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THE
WORKS
OF
RICHARD HURD, D.D.
LORD BISHOP OF WORCESTER.
VOL. VII.

Printed by J. Nichols and Son,
Red Lion Passage, Fleet Street, London.

THE
WORKS
OF
RICHARD HURD, D.D.
LORD BISHOP OF WORCESTER.
IN EIGHT VOLUMES.
VOL. VII.

LONDON:
PRINTED FOR T. CADELL AND W. DAVIES, STRAND.
1811.

THEOLOGICAL WORKS.
VOL. III.

SERMONS
PREACHED AT
LINCOLN’S-INN,
BETWEEN THE YEARS 1765 AND 1776:
WITH
A LARGER DISCOURSE,
ON
CHRIST’S DRIVING THE MERCHANTS
OUT OF THE TEMPLE;
IN WHICH THE NATURE AND END OF THAT FAMOUS
TRANSACTION IS EXPLAINED.

SATIS ME VIXISSE ARBITRABOR, ET OFFICIUM HOMINIS IMPLESSE, SI LABOR MEUS ALIQUOS HOMINES, AB ERRORIBUS LIBERATOS, AD ITER CŒLESTE DIREXERIT. Lactantius.

CONTENTS
OF
THE SEVENTH VOLUME.

SERMON XXIX.
PREACHED MARCH 21, 1773.

Acts xxiv. 24, 25.

After certain days, when Felix came with his wife Drusilla, which was a Jewess, he sent for Paul, and heard him concerning the faith of Christ. And, as he reasoned of righteousness, temperance, and judgment to come, Felix trembled, and answered, Go thy way for this time; when I have a convenient season, I will call for thee.

This Felix, whose name is become so memorable in the Christian church, had been made Procurator of Judæa by the Emperor Claudius, and continued in that government during the six or seven first years of Nero: when he was recalled to answer for his oppressive administration before the emperor; who, we are told, would have punished him, according to his deserts, but for the interposition of Pallas, at that time Nero’s chief minister.

He was, indeed, in all respects a very corrupt and profligate man, as appears from the testimony of Tacitus[2] and Josephus[3]; from whom we learn, that he was more especially addicted to the vices of lust and cruelty; both which he exercised in the most audacious manner; vexing the people with all sorts of oppression, and rioting in his excesses, without restraint. Drusilla, too, is represented to us in a light, not much more favourable. For, though a Jewess, and the wife of another man, she had contracted a marriage, or rather lived in adultery with this pagan governor of Judæa; transgressing at once both a moral and positive law of her religion, for the sake of ascending to that honour.

One would wonder how persons of this character should have any curiosity to hear Paul concerning the faith of Christ. And, without doubt, they had no serious desire of information. It is likely they proposed to themselves some entertainment from questioning the prisoner; and the presence of Drusilla makes it credible that the entertainment was chiefly designed for her; who might be a bigot to her religion, though she scorned to live up to it; and therefore wanted, we may suppose, to insult Jesus in the person of his disciple.

However, let their purpose be what it would, such were Felix and Drusilla, before whom Paul reasoned of righteousness, temperance, and a judgment to come.

Paul was not in the number of those complaisant preachers, who take a text, in which their hearers have no concern. He had to do with persons, who bade defiance to religion in all its forms; and his subject was well suited to the occasion. They expected an amusing tale of Jesus Christ: but the Apostle, who knew how unworthy they were of being instructed in the faith, as not yet possessing the fist principles of morals, took up the matter a great deal higher; and, discoursing to them on the natural duties of justice and temperance, which they had grossly violated, and on the natural doctrine of a judgment to come, which they had never believed or respected, gave them to understand, that they had much to learn, or practise at least, before they were fit hearers of what he had further to say concerning the Christian revelation.

Being taken at this advantage, we may easily conceive their surprise and disappointment: and, as the speaker knew how to give an energy to his discourse on these interesting topics, we cannot wonder, that one or both of them should be much discomposed by it. Of Drusilla the sacred text says nothing: she was, perhaps, the more skilful dissembler of the two; or her rage and indignation might, for the moment, get the better of her fears: but Felix had not the address, or the fortune, to disguise his feelings; he trembled before this plain, intrepid speaker.

This event is instructive, indeed, as it sets before us the power of conscience over the worst of men; and, at the same time, the meanness of guilt, which, in such place and dignity, could not help shrinking at the voice of truth, though speaking by the mouth of a poor dependant prisoner. But when we have made the proper use of these reflexions, on the case of Felix, we shall find a still more instructive lesson in the subsequent conduct of this affrighted sinner.

When the fit of trembling came upon him, he said hastily to the preacher: Go thy way for this time; when I have a convenient season, I will call for thee.

How striking a picture of that fatal disposition which men have to put off repentance, even under the fullest conviction of guilt; and that too, on the most frivolous pretences! What Felix should have done instantly, when his conscience was so much alarmed, he omits to do: Go thy way for this time: and yet, to quiet that conscience, he would not be thought to lay aside all purpose of reformation: When I have a convenient season, I will call for thee.

With this famous example in my eye, I shall attempt to shew in the following discourse: 1. That PROCRASTINATION is the usual support of vice: 2. That false reasoning, or, what we may call, the SOPHISTRY OF VICE, is the great support of procrastination: 3. That a FINAL IMPENITENCE is the too common effect of this pernicious confederacy. And

I. Procrastination is the main support of vice; the favourite stratagem, by which the grand deceiver himself ensnares the souls of men, and maintains his empire over them.

There are few persons so desperately wicked but they resolve, secretly at least, and in their own minds, to amend their bad lives, at some time or other. But that time is rarely the present. They have other business in hand: some scheme of interest to manage, some project of ambition to pursue, some intrigue of pleasure to accomplish; in short, some darling sin or other to gratify, before they can be at leisure to execute this intended work of reformation.

Nay, there are seasons of recollection, in which the memory of their past lives afflicts and torments them; there are hours of melancholy, or ill health, in which the necessity of repentance seems pressing and instant; there are certain moments of terror, in which the final resolution is on the point of being taken: yet still, this delusive idea of to-morrow steps in: the memory, the necessity, the terror, are over-ruled: the ungrateful task is, for the present, deferred; to-morrow laid aside, and the next day forgotten.

This was the case of Felix in the text. When bad men are clothed with power, it is not easy for truth of any kind, especially for moral truth, to gain access to them. Yet it made its way to this potent governor, and with a force which nothing could resist. It borrowed the thunder of Paul’s rhetoric to speak home and loudly to his affrighted conscience. It shook his guilty mind with the sense of his crimes, his incontinence and injustice, his riot and rapine, his lust and cruelty; and still more, with the apprehension of a judgment to come, armed with terror, and ready to take vengeance of his multiplied iniquities.

You expect now, that, in this agony, he should take the part, which duty and prudence, his conviction and his fears, equally recommended to him. You expect, that he should apply to his instructor, who had raised this storm, to compose it; and that, leaving his chair of state, he should spring forth and accost his prisoner, as the honest jaylor at Philippi had done, on a similar occasion: What must I do to be saved[4]? But, no; it was not yet convenient to put that question. His pleasures, his fortune, his ambition, might be endangered by it. It was not the moment to take this decisive step. Better to think twice of it, and dismiss the preacher for this time.

And is there nothing in this case which we may apply to ourselves? Is there none here, whom the free remonstrance of a friend, an unexpected sentence in a moral writer, the admonition of a preacher, and, above all, the word of God, hath, at any time, awakened to a lively sense of his condition? A reproof from one or other of these sometimes falls in so exactly with a man’s own case, and goes so directly to the heart, that he is more than commonly disturbed and confounded by it. It flashes such conviction on the mind, and shews the sinner to himself in so just a light, that he stands aghast at the deformity of his conduct, and at the peril of it. In the agitation of this distress, he half resolves to repent: nay, he strives for a moment to enforce this good resolution: when, let but that dæmon, which every sinner carries about with him, whisper the word, to-morrow, and his conscience revives, his fears disperse, and this precious opportunity is lost, though at the hazard of never returning any more.

Not that he permits this idle insinuation to banish all thoughts of future repentance, or to prevail with him, for the present, in its true and proper form: No: to be thus far the dupe of his own folly, would disgrace him too much, and expose his prevarication too plainly: if it pass upon him, it shall be under the mask of wisdom. He turns sophister then in his own defence, and is easily convinced, “That his conduct is not altogether absurd or unreasonable.”

And thus, as I proposed to shew,

II. In the next place, this fatal procrastination, which supports vice, is itself supported by a READY AND CONVENIENT SOPHISTRY.

The case of Felix will again illustrate this second observation; and shew us the whole process of that preverted ingenuity, by which the credulous mind is made easy under its delusion.

He thought it not sufficient to say to Paul; Go thy way for this time. This abrupt dismission of the preacher was to be justified, in some sort, to himself, and to those who were witnesses of his consternation. He covers it, then, with this pretence; When I have a convenient season, I will call for thee.

The TIME, it seems, was not proper for his immediate conversion. To become a penitent just then; on the instant; to be surprised into a good life, had the appearance of too much facility and inconsideration. He must take a space to reflect on the grounds and reasons of what had been offered to him. He had, besides, other affairs, which pressed upon him at this moment: or, if not, to deliberate on the matter, would render his conversion more solemn and effectual.

The PLACE, too, we may believe, was as little suited, as the time, to this business. “What! in a public apartment of his palace! in the presence of Drusilla, whose tenderest interests were concerned in the case, and whose delicacy required managing! before his pagan courtiers, and many, we may suppose, of his Jewish subjects, who would be equally scandalized at this precipitate conversion of their master and governor!” These, and other pretences of the like sort, without doubt, occurred to him: and on the strength of these he concludes his procrastination to be fit, and decent, and justifiable, in a good degree, on the principles of virtue and prudence.

“But why, unhappy man (if one may presume to expostulate the case with thee) why this hasty and unweighed conclusion? Could there be any time more convenient for thy conversion, or any place more suitable, if thou wert in earnest to be converted?

Wast thou ever so prepared for this change as now? Was thy mind ever so convinced, or thy heart so affected? Didst thou ever hear and tremble till this day, and wilt thou expect such a miracle a second time? Can thy bad life be reformed too soon, or can it need an afterthought to justify such reformation? Can any other business come in competition with this? and can it deserve the name of weakness and surprise to give way to the powerful workings of thy own conscience? In a doubtful case, it may be well to deliberate: but can it be a secret even to thyself, that nothing is questionable here, but thy sincerity?

For what, let me ask, is that convenient season, which flatters thy present irresolution? Wilt thou find such a monitor, as Paul, in thy dependants? Will thy tax-gatherers preach righteousness to thee, and thy centurions, temperance? or, thy philosophers (if, perhaps, thou hast of these about thee, to grace thy provincial pomp) will they reason with thee, on a judgment to come?

But the PLACE is unfit; and thou wilt send for Paul to confer in private with thee.

Wast thou then afraid to expose thy honour by this step? And did it seem too much to give to God and truth, the glory of thy conversion? True penitence knows nothing of these punctilios. The example had edified thy unbelieving court; and might have had its effect on the insensible Drusilla. Thy injustice and incontinence had been open to all men. Was it not fit thou shouldst atone for this scandal by as public a reformation? Yet still thy pretence is, a convenient season! As if the first season, that offers for renouncing a bad life, were not always the most convenient.”

But I continue this address to the Roman governor too long, if you consider me as directing it to him only. Let me profess, then, that by Felix I mean every sinner at this day, who procrastinates in the affair of his salvation, and would colour that procrastination by a still more contemptible sophistry. For, let us be ingenuous. This miserable Pagan, after all, had something to say for himself. This was, probably, the only time that repentance had ever been preached to him. He still, perhaps, was acquainted with little more than the name of Jesus: for his teacher, as we have seen, insisted chiefly on the great truths of natural religion. If he then scrupled to take the benefit of this first and imperfect lecture, there is some allowance to be made for his folly. But what shall we say of those who possess every possible advantage of light and knowledge, who have grown up in the profession of Christianity, and are not now to learn either its duties or terrors? If such as these have sinned themselves into the condition of Felix, and yet resist the calls of grace, the commands of the Gospel, the exhortations of its ministers, the admonitions of their own conscience, all of them concurring to press upon them an immediate repentance; if there be among us such procrastinators as these, what topics of defence are there by which they can hope to excuse, or so much as palliate, their prodigious infatuation?

“Shall we say for them, or will they say for themselves, that they are young and healthy? that they have time enough before them, in which to grow wise at their leisure? that they wait till the boisterous passions have been calmed by reason and experience? that they expect a convenient season for repentance, in declining life, and the languor of old age? or that they shall find it, as others have done, on the bed of sickness, or on the bed of death?”

I have never heard that Christians have any better reasons than these for delaying repentance: and, if they have not, though the sophistry of Felix deserved to be laid open, the respect I owe to those who now hear me, will not permit me to imagine that such sophistry as this, can want to be exposed.

It will be to better purpose to set before you,

III. In the last place, the issue of this too natural alliance between procrastination and vice, in a FINAL IMPENITENCE; of which the case of Felix, again, affords us a striking example.

When I have a convenient season, says he to Paul, I will call for thee. This season came, and Paul attended; to what effect, we shall now understand.

When Felix dismissed him from his presence, he insinuated, nay perhaps thought, that he should have a disposition hereafter to profit by his religious instructions. But time and bad company quieted his fears: and a favourite vice inspired other motives for the interview, than those of religion. For he hoped, says the historian, that money should have been given him of Paul, that he might loose him: wherefore he sent for him the oftener, and communed with him.

The case, we see, is well altered. He trembled before at Paul’s charge against him of rapine and extortion: he would now exercise these very vices on Paul himself. Such was the fruit of that convenient season, which was to have teemed with better things!

But this is not all: For, after two years Portius Festus came into Felix’s room; and Felix, willing to shew the Jews a pleasure, left Paul bound.

Felix then had his preacher within call for two whole years: time sufficient, one would think, to afford the opportunity of many a lecture concerning the faith of Christ. Yet, though he communed with Paul oft, it does not appear that his conferences with him turned on this subject. What he wanted to draw from him was, not truth, but money; and, when this hope failed, he was little concerned about the rest. Nay, the impression which Paul had made upon him was so entirely effaced, that he left an innocent man in bonds, for the sake of doing a pleasure to the Jews. But he had his reason still for this unwonted courtesy. For their complaints were ready to follow him (as indeed they did) to the throne of Cæsar; whither he went, at last, unrepentant and unreformed, to encounter, as he could, the rigors of imperial justice; just as so many others, by the like misuse of time and opportunity, expose themselves to all the terrors of divine.

Not but there is yet this advantage in the parallel on the side of Felix. He neglected to use the space of two years, which was mercifully allowed him for the season of reformation: but how many Christians omit this work, not for two only, but for twenty, forty years; nay, for the whole extent of a long life; and never find a convenient season for doing the only thing, which it greatly concerns them to do, although with the astonishing delusion of always intending it.

To conclude: We have seen that procrastination serves the ends of vice; and that vice, in return, is but too successful in pleading the cause of procrastination: leaving between them this salutary lesson to mankind, “That he who seriously intends to repent to-morrow, should in all reason begin to-day; to-day, as the Apostle admonishes, while it is called to-day, lest the heart, in the mean time, be hardened through the deceitfulness of sin[5].”

SERMON XXX.
PREACHED DECEMBER 19, 1773.

1 John v. 11.

And this is the record that God hath given to us, eternal life; and THIS LIFE IS IN HIS SON.

We are indebted to the Gospel for the knowledge and hope we have of eternal life; this important doctrine having, first, been delivered by Jesus Christ, and only by him, on any proper grounds of authority. This then is the record, or the substance of what the Gospel testifies and affirms, That God hath given to us eternal life: and this life, adds the Apostle, IS IN HIS SON: that is, he procured this blessing for us; he is not only the teacher, but the author of eternal life.

This last is a distinct and very momentous consideration. Reason might seem to have some part in discovering, or at least in confirming, the doctrine itself: but the manner of conveying the inestimable gift of eternal life, whether immediately from the giver of it, or by the mediation of some other, this is a matter of pure revelation; and reason hath nothing more to do in the case, than to see that the revelation is, indeed, made, and then with all humility to acquiesce in it.

Being, then, to treat this sublime subject, the redemption of mankind through Christ, I shall do it simply in the terms of scripture, or at least with a scrupulous regard to the plain and obvious sense of them. The text says, eternal life is in the Son of God; and my discourse must be merely a scriptural comment on this declaration.

Now, the scripture teaches, that immortality was originally, and from the beginning, the free gift of God to man, on the condition of his obeying a certain law, or command, prescribed to him: whether that command be interpreted literally, of not eating the fruit of the forbidden tree in paradise, as we read in the second and third chapters of Genesis; or allegorically, of some other prohibition, expressed agreeably to the oriental genius, in these terms. This diversity of interpretation makes no difference in the case: whatever the test of man’s disobedience was, the will of the law-giver is clearly announced: If thou art guilty of disobedience, thou shalt surely die[6].

Obedience, then, had the promise of continued life; the penalty threatened to disobedience, was death: which was only saying, that the gift freely bestowed on a certain condition (and surely what man had no right to demand, might be offered on what terms the giver pleased) should be withdrawn on the breach of it. The loss, indeed, was immense; but to the loser no wrong was done: and of him who recalled the free gift, conditionally bestowed, and justly forfeited, no complaint, in reason, can be made.

But to what purpose, some will ask, to give that with one hand, which was presently to be withdrawn by the other? for the best reason, no doubt, whether conceivable by us, or not. However, the sad event was certainly foreseen: and, what is more, such provision was made against it, as to infinite wisdom and goodness seemed meet.

By contemplating the gradual steps of Providence, as we are able to trace them in the revelation itself, we understand, that it was in the eternal purpose of the divine Governor to restore life to fallen and mortal man, as freely as it had been at first bestowed, and on terms still more advantageous him. But the ways of heaven are not as our ways, nor to be regulated by our impatient wishes, or expectations. What man, in a moment, had wantonly thrown away, he was to recover once more; but in God’s good time; not instantly, but after a long succession of ages, and such a state of intermediate discipline and preparation, as might best serve to introduce the intended blessing with effect.

Man, then was to be reinstated in his forfeited inheritance: and the promise was made, though purposely in obscure terms, from the moment the forfeiture was incurred. In process of time, it was less, and still less obscurely signified; yet so as that the full discovery of what was intended, and, still more, the execution of it, was long deferred.

At length, Jesus Christ came into the world to fulfill and to declare the whole will of God on this interesting subject: and from him, and from those commissioned by him, we learn what the wisest men, and even angels, had desired to look into, and could at most discern but imperfectly through the types and shadows of the patriarchal and Mosaic dispensations.

The great mystery, now unveiled, was briefly this: that God of his infinite goodness had, indeed, from the foundation of the world, purposed the restoration of eternal life to his unworthy creature, man; but that in his wisdom he saw fit to confer this unmerited blessing in a way, that should at once secure the honour of his government; and, if any thing could secure it, the future obedience and happiness of his creature: that he would only confer this mighty privilege at the instance, as it were, and for the sake of a transcendantly divine person, his only begotten Son, the second person in the glorious Trinity, as we now style him: that this divine person; of his own free will co-operating with the eternal purpose[7] of the all-gracious Father, should descend from Heaven; should become incarnate; should as man, converge with men, and instruct them by his heavenly doctrine; should taste deeply of all their sorrows and infirmities (sin only excepted); should even pour out his blood unto death, and by that blood should wash away the stain of guilt; and, on the condition of faith in his name, operating, as of course it must do, by a sincere obedience to his authority, should admit us, once more, to the possession of eternal happiness; of which, finally, we have a lively and certain hope, in that he who had laid down his life, had power to take it again, as was declared to all the world by his resurrection from the dead[8].

In this awfully stupendous manner (at which reason stands aghast, and faith herself is half confounded) was the Grace of God to man, at length, manifested: and thus it is, when we come a little to unfold the record, or testimony of the Gospel, that God hath given to as eternal life; and that this life is in his Son.

Curious men have perplexed themselves and others by inquiring into the nature of this astonishing scheme, and have seemed half inclined not to accept so great salvation, till they could reconcile it to their ideas of philosophy. Hence those endless altercations concerning merit, satisfaction, imputed sin, and vicarious punishment; in which it is hard to say, whether more subtlety has been shewn, or more perverseness; more ingenuity, or presumption. If most of these questions were well examined, it would appear, perhaps, that they are mere verbal disputes, and as frivolous as they are contentious. But, be the difference between the parties nominal or real, this we are sure of, without taking part in the controversy, that the scriptures speak of the death of Christ, as a ransom for many[9]; the price of our redemption[10]; a sacrifice for us[11]; a propitiation for the sins of the whole world[12]: that they speak of Christ himself, as dying for us[13], as bearing our sins in his own body on the tree[14]; as suffering for sins, the just for the unjust[15]; as tasting death for every man[16]; as giving himself for us, an offering and sacrifice to God[17]; as justifying us by his blood[18]; and redeeming us by the price of it[19]: with a multitude of other passages to the same purpose. Now let men use what art they will in torturing such expressions as these; they will hardly prevent our seeing what the plain doctrine of scripture is, “That it pleased God to give us eternal life only in his Son; and in his Son only as suffering and dying for us.”

But in this consideration the whole mystery consists; how to be fully cleared up to our reason, men may dispute if they will, and they will dispute the rather, because the subject is out of their sphere, and beyond their comprehension. Whether God could accept such a sacrifice for sin as the death of his own Son, many have presumptuously asked. Whether he could not have given life to man, in another way, some have more modestly doubted: but the issue of all this arrogant or needless curiosity, is but the discovery of their own weakness, on the one hand, and the confession of this stupendous truth, on the other; That God did not see fit to bestow eternal salvation on mankind, but in his own appointed way, through Christ Jesus.

In this momentous truth, then, enough for us to know, let us humbly acquiesce, and leave to others the vanity of disputing the grounds of it.

But, though the reasons of this dispensation be inscrutable to us, the measure of its influence, some think, they have the means to discover. For it seems to follow from St. Paul’s assertion, that, as in Adam all died, so in Christ shall all be made alive[20]; and from the idea given us of the Redeemer, as of the lamb slain from the foundation of the world[21]; that the benefits of Christ’s death extend to all men, of all times, and are, in the proper sense of the word, universal. Only it is to be remembered, that, if all men have an interest in Christ, whether they know it or not, we who do know what our interest in him is, have infinitely the advantage of them, and are inexcusable, if we reject it.

Thus far then we go upon safe grounds, and affirm without hesitation, that God, through his mercies in Christ Jesus, is the Saviour of all men, but especially of them that believe[22].

Another consideration, and of the utmost moment, is yet behind. Though eternal life be now again bestowed on mankind, this gift is not one and the same thing to all, but is differently modified according to the different conduct of those to whom it is given. All shall live; but whether to happiness, or misery, and to what degree of either, will depend on the use of those advantages, whether of nature or grace, which every one enjoys. Not, that any degree of eternal happiness is, or can be strictly due to any man, but that the several degrees of it will be proportioned to our respective moral and religious qualifications. To have done otherwise, would have been to confound the order of things, and to appoint a scheme of salvation, which must utterly extinguish all virtuous industry among men. Hence, we are told, that the righteous shall shine out in different degrees of happiness, as one star differeth from another star in glory[23].

In like manner, they who shall be found worthy, not of happiness, but misery, will be sentenced to several allotments of it, by the same equal rule.

It may seem, perhaps, that, as our best works could not merit eternal life in happiness, so our worst cannot deserve eternal life in misery. But let us take care how we push our inquiries into this aweful subject. In rewarding obedience, the divine goodness is chiefly displayed; and who shall presume to set bounds to it? But, in punishing disobedience, the divine Wisdom, of which we conceive much more imperfectly, is mainly concerned: and what examples of severity in the punishment of incorrigibly impenitent offenders, after such means as have been devised to reclaim them, and for the support of his moral government over more worlds than we have any idea of, this attribute may demand, we shall do well, with all submission and modesty, to leave unexplored.

Still, what is just, that is, what is right and fit, on the whole, undoubtedly take place: but we are not, we cannot, be competent judges of what is fit and right in this instance. It will be safest to rely, without further inquiry, on the general declaration of him, who was not only our Redeemer, but shall one day be our merciful judge: These, says he, [that is, the wicked] shall go away into everlasting punishment: but the righteous into life eternal[24].

What remains on this subject, is only to admonish you of those relations, in which we stand towards the Author of our salvation, and the correspondent duties they impose upon us. I can but just point out these relations and duties: though they deserve to be inculcated (as, in fact, they have been, by the sacred writers) with all the force of eloquent persuasion, that words can give.

With regard, to the supreme cause of all things, who is of himself only the source, and principle of deity, and the original author of our salvation, God, thus understood, is graciously pleased to present himself to us in the Gospel, under the idea of the Father, and to consider us in the tender relation of sons. We owe him, therefore, all possible filial love and reverence, and must so conceive of his part in the mystery of our redemption, as to refer all the fruits of it, ultimately, to the glory of God the Father[25].

In subordination to the Father, HE in whom we have eternal life, is our friend[26], and therefore entitled to our warmest love: he is our greatest benefactor[27], and therefore claims our utmost gratitude: he is our only master[28], and of course, must be followed with all observance: he is our redeemer, and sole mediator between God and man[29]; therefore he challenges an implicit, an exclusive trust and confidence from us: he is the appointed judge of the world[30]; therefore to be regarded with the humblest fear and veneration: lastly, he is the only begotten Son of God[31], nay our Lord and our God[32]; to whom therefore we are to pay transcendant honour, so as to honour, the Son even as we honour the Father[33].

These are some, the chief of those duties, which, as Christians, we are bound to perform towards the Author of our salvation. The relations from which they spring, could not be discovered by the light of nature; but, when made known to us by revelation, they require as certainly, and as reasonably, the several duties which correspond to them, as the relations in which we stand to God and man, as discoverable by nature only, require their respective duties.

You see, then, the sphere of a Christian’s duty is much enlarged beyond that of the natural man: and not in these instances only, for the gospel has made known another divine person, (so we are obliged to speak) the holy Spirit of God, who stands in a distinct relation to us; and to whom, therefore, his proper and peculiar honour is due. But of this divine person in the glorious Trinity, I shall find another occasion to lay before you, at large, what the scriptures have brought to light.

For the present, it may suffice to have put you in mind of what we are taught concerning the grace of God in his Son Jesus Christ; to the end that, religiously observing all the duties which this revealed doctrine requires of us, we may fully correspond to the gracious intentions of the revealer, by having our fruit unto holiness; and the end, everlasting life. For the wages of sin (be it ever remembered) is death: but eternal life is the gift of God through Jesus Christ our Lord[34]: To whom be all praise, thanksgiving, and honour, now and for evermore. Amen.

SERMON XXXI.
PREACHED JUNE 12, 1774.

Gal. vi. 8.

He that soweth to the spirit, shall OF THE SPIRIT REAP LIFE EVERLASTING.

Without staying to point out the immediate occasion of these words, or to enumerate and define the several senses of the word spirit, in sacred scripture, it is sufficient to my present purpose to observe, that the text affirms a general and fundamental truth of the Gospel, more clearly and particularly explained elsewhere. It is this: That he who in this life conducts himself according to the rules and admonitions of God’s holy spirit, which the Apostle calls, sowing to the spirit, shall, through the influence of the same spirit, obtain, that is, in the Apostle’s figurative style, shall reap, life everlasting.

But, what! you will say, everlasting life is the gift of God through Christ: how is it then that we receive this gift at the hands of another, of God’s holy spirit?

To resolve this difficulty, and to open to you at the same time the Christian doctrine of grace, together with the concern which we have in it, I shall consider,

I. In what sense we are to understand the assertion, That everlasting life is of the spirit.

II. In what way this blessing is conferred upon us; under which head I shall have occasion to set forth the several offices and operations of the holy Spirit.

III. Lastly, what returns of duty, as corresponding to these offices of the Spirit, and as resulting from the relations in which we stand towards him, are, in consequence of this revelation, reasonably required of us.

I. To understand in what sense the scriptures assert everlasting life to be of the spirit, it will be necessary to form to ourselves a distinct idea of the divine œconomy in the whole work of our redemption; which (to sum up briefly what is revealed to us) appears to have been conducted in the following manner.

God the Father of his mere grace, purposed and willed[35], from all eternity, the restoration of life to man, after his forfeiture of it by disobedience: but he saw fit to make our title to this free gift depend on the death and sacrifice of his son Jesus Christ: and, lastly, to give the actual possession of it only through the ministration of his holy Spirit.

The whole of this process is full of wonder; but there is no contradiction, or inconsistency in its several parts.

However, to open the œconomy of this dispensation a little more distinctly, it is to be observed, that eternal life may be taken in two senses. It may either imply a mere state of ENDLESS EXISTENCE; and, in this sense, it is solely and properly the gift of God through Christ; for as in Adam all died, even so in Christ shall all be made alive[36]: Or, it may mean, what it always does mean in those passages of scripture, where it is magnified so much, a state of HAPPINESS, in that existence; and then only a capacity of being put into this state is procured for us by the Redeemer. But this capacity, this grace of God, may be frustrated by us[37], may even turn against is, if we be not duly prepared to enjoy that happiness of which we are made capable; and such preparation, is the proper distinctive work of God’s holy spirit.

Further, to see the necessity, the importance at least, of such preparation, we are to reflect, that, by the fall of man, not only life was forfeited, but the powers of his mind were weakened. Transgression had clouded his understanding, and perverted his will. He neither saw his duty so clearly as before, nor was disposed to perform it so vigorously. And this depravation of his faculties, we easily conceive, might, as an original taint, be transmitted to his posterity; nay, we certainly feel that it is so: yet, without any imputation on the author of our being, who might have placed us in this disadvantageous state, if he had pleased, from the beginning; and to whom we are accountable for the right use of the advantages we have, not of those we have not. Still, the purity of God’s nature might require what his wisdom has decreed, that without holiness no man shall see the Lord[38], and that Jesus should be the author of eternal salvation to those only, who, in a higher degree than our fallen nature of itself permits, obey him[39]. And this change in our moral condition from bad to good, from a propensity to evil to a love of righteousness, is called in scripture, a renewing of our minds, a new creation, a new man; in opposition to the former so different state of our minds, which is called the old man corrupted according to the deceitful lusts[40].

For the change itself, it is represented in scripture as proceeding, not from the virtue of our own minds, but from the influence of the Holy Ghost upon them[41]: and when it has taken place in us, then, and not till then, is our election sure, and we are made heirs according to the hope of eternal life[42].

This extraordinary provision for restoring man to the image of God, to the new man, which after God is created in righteousness and true holiness[43], is what reason could not have hoped for, but, when made known by revelation, seems to have been expedient, may be conceived to have been even necessary, and is clearly an expression of the divine goodness, which, though it fill our minds very justly with wonder, well as gratitude, none of our natural notions contradict.

We see, then, in general, how the new man receives the gift of eternal life from the spirit. Let us now consider more particularly,

II. In the second place, in what way this new creation is carried on and perfected in us. And here we shall find all the marks of that wisdom and fitness, which are discernable in the thing itself.

For we are renewed in the spirit of our minds[44], by the teaching of the spirit of truth[45], through sanctification of the spirit[46], and comfort of the Holy Ghost[47]: that is, we have a new and better turn given to our minds, by the light derived into them from the spirit; by the good thoughts and purposes which he excites in them; and by the joy and consolation with which he rewards our endeavours to profit by the assistance thus graciously afforded to us.

That we very much want these helps and encouragements, we all know: that we are very much indebted to them, we Christians believe: and that they are not the less real, because, perhaps, not distinguishable from the workings of our own minds, now that revelation assures us of the fact, we have no scruple to affirm.

To this divine Spirit, then, the spirit of the Father[48], and the spirit of the Son[49], as he is equally styled, because proceeding from both; to this spirit, I say, enlightening our understandings, purifying our wills, and confirming our faith, we must impute all that is good in us, all that proficiency in true holiness which qualifies us for the enjoyment of heaven: and through this discipline it is, that they who sow to the spirit, are, in the end, enabled of the spirit to reap everlasting life.

These three characters might be further opened and distinctly considered; and then it would appear, that all the revelations of God’s will, chiefly with regard to the redemption of man, made to the patriarchs of old, to the prophets under the law, to the Apostles of our Lord, nay to our Lord himself, as the man Christ Jesus, and all the secret illuminations of the faithful in all times, are to be regarded as so many emanations from the spirit of God, THE ENLIGHTENER: that at the gradual improvements of our virtue, all the graces which first descend upon our hearts, and then manifest themselves in every good word and work, are the production of the same spirit, in his office of SANCTIFIER: and, lastly, that all the firmness and resolution we possess under every trial in this world, all the foretaste we have of future favour and acceptance, all our joy and peace in believing, are the signs and proofs of the COMFORTER, speaking to us, and, according to our Saviour’s promise, abiding in us.

It is very conceivable that all this diversity of operations may be justly and reasonably ascribed to the influence of the holy Spirit, without supposing that our own freedom is impeded or infringed. For influence is not compulsion; and we are every day induced by others to do that which we should not have done of ourselves, without feeling or suspecting that the least violence is offered to our free-will. A convincing truth clearly presented to us; a virtuous thought incidentally suggested; a gleam of hope or gladness, suddenly let in upon us; all this is no more than we frequently experience in the company of wise and good men, who yet would be much surprised, and would have reason to think themselves much injured, if we complained of any undue influence exerted by them. Yet thus it is, and thus only, that the holy spirit constraineth us: and the scriptures are so far from representing this constraint under the idea of force, or physical necessity, that they speak of it as the perfection of moral freedom: Where the spirit of the Lord is, says the Apostle, there is liberty[50].

Having, therefore, seen in what sense it is affirmed that the spirit giveth life; and in what way, consistently with the free use of our faculties, he dispenses this gift, and exercises a variety of offices towards us; it remains,

III. In the last place, to see what returns of duty, as corresponding to the several characters of the holy Spirit, and resulting from the relations in which we stand to him, are required on our part; in other words, what we are to do, before we can hope to be transformed by the renewing of our minds, under the influence of the holy Spirit.

One previous indispensable condition of our obtaining that influence seems to be, that we ASK it, that is, put up our petitions to God for it: a consideration, which, while it shews the utility, the necessity of prayer, sufficiently accounts, I doubt, to many of us, for the little or no effect which, as we pretend and sometimes lament, this renovating power of the spirit has upon us.

This duty of prayer being supposed; with regard to the holy spirit himself, in general, all the reverence, honour, worship, which his divine nature exacts from us, and all the love and gratitude which his gracious concurrence with the Father and the Son, in the great work of our redemption, so eminently deserves, are to be religiously paid to him.

More particularly, we are to consider, that to the several characters or offices, sustained by this divine person, and exercised towards us, several duties respectively correspond; which indeed are obvious enough, but must just be pointed out.

1. If a ray of light break in upon us, if a new degree of knowledge be imparted to us, if we see the truth of the gospel more clearly in any respect than before we had done, we cannot mistake in ascribing this additional information or conviction (which comes very frequently we know not how, and when the general bent of our thoughts, perhaps, lies another way) to the illuminating spirit within us; and we are to see to what further purpose that illumination may serve, and how far it may go towards dissipating the darkness of our minds in other instances.

2. If we feel (as at times we all of us do) a vicious inclination checked, a virtuous purpose encouraged, a moral or a pious sentiment suggested, these secret motions are, nay, must be, from the holy Spirit; and our duty is to entertain and to improve them.

3. Or, again, if we perceive our devotions to be quickened, our hopes enlivened, our faith fortified, though the present state of our temper or constitution may be instrumental in producing these effects, yet, if they go no father than scripture warrants, and right reason allows, we shall not mistake (having the express promise of our Lord and Master) in ascribing these consolations of peace and joy to the Comforter; we may regard them as the earnest and pledge of the spirit in our hearts[51]: and then, our part is so to cherish and use them, as to go on from strength to strength[52], till we arrive at perfection.

You see there is enough for us to do, though the spirit strive with our spirit[53], and in such sort that we derive the power to will and to do[54] what we ought, ultimately from him.

I know that this, and other things, which on the authority of scripture, I have delivered on the present subject, will appear strange to natural reason. But so that scripture has prepared us to expect they would do. For the natural man, says the Apostle, receiveth not the things of the spirit of God: for they are foolishness unto him[55]. And to the same purpose our divine Master himself, speaking of the spirit of truth; whom, says he, the world cannot receive, because it seeth him not, neither knoweth him: but ye, addressing himself to his disciples [that is, to men, who walk by faith, and not by sight] ye know him, for he dwelleth with you, and shall be in you.

On this assurance, then, we may reasonably believe what, by reason, we cannot understand. And the substance of what we are to believe on this whole subject, is contained in a single text of St. Peter, where the three divine persons, yet ineffably one God, “the Trinity in unity[56],” whom we adore, and their respective offices, are accurately distinguished. For in the opening of his first epistle, he pronounces the Christians, to whom he writes, ELECT, that is, entitled to salvation, according to the foreknowledge, or pre-determination[57], of God the father; through the sanctification of the Spirit unto obedience; and sprinkling of the blood of Jesus Christ.

In these memorable words, we have a brief, yet clear epitome of our whole faith. And thus at length you see that, though eternal life be the gift of God in his Son, it is only ensured, and finally conveyed to us, by the ministry of his HOLY SPIRIT: to which blessed Trinity, therefore, be all honour, and praise, and adoration, now and for ever! Amen.

SERMON XXXII.
PREACHED JUNE 19, 1774.

2 Cor. vii. 1.

Having therefore these promises (dearly beloved) let us cleanse ourselves from all filthiness of flesh and spirit, perfecting holiness in the fear of God.

Our discourses from this place turning very much, as they ought to do, on the great Christian doctrine of salvation, that is, of eternal life, considered as the gift of God to mortal and sinful man, through the redemption of his Son, and the sanctification of his holy Spirit, it would be a strange neglect in us, if we did not take care to remind our hearers of the effect which that doctrine ought to have upon them.

This duty I mean now to discharge towards you: and I cannot do it more properly than by enforcing that advice which St. Paul gave the Corinthians, as the result of a long and eloquent discourse to them on the same subject. Having THEREFORE (says he) these promises [i. e. the promise of eternal life, and of acceptance through Christ, so as to become the people of God, nay the sons of God, with other assurances of the like sort[58], interspersed in the two preceding chapters, Having these promises] let us cleanse ourselves from all filthiness of flesh and spirit, perfecting holiness in the fear of God.

The inference, you see, is direct to our purpose: and common ingenuity, if nothing else, might well engage us, in return for such great and precious promises, to draw the same conclusion for ourselves. But, when we further consider that these promises are conditional, and made only to those who obey the giver of them[59], interest, as well as gratitude, will oblige us to yield that obedience so expressly required of us.

This obedience is briefly summed up in the direction; to cleanse ourselves from all filthiness of flesh and spirit, that is, to take care, agreeably to the double obligation imposed upon us by the distinct parts of our constitution, that we consult the integrity both of our bodies and minds; and preserve them both from that defilement which each of them, according to its nature, is liable to contract in this state of moral probation.

I. With regard to the FLESH, the gross vices which defile that part of our frame, are so expressly condemned by the law of reason, as well as of the gospel, and are so repugnant to the inbred modesty of every man, especially, a such as have had their natural sense of decency quickened by a good education, that but to mention them in this place, I would hope, is quite sufficient. If I go farther, it shall only be to remind you of one thing, which I have explained at large on a former occasion[60], That Christianity hath added unspeakably to the worth and dignity of the human body, by considering it no longer as the store-house of impure lusts, but as the habitation, the temple of the living God, to whose sole use it is now dedicated[61].

The turpitude, the dishonour, the impiety of desecrating this sanctuary of the holy Spirit by sordid, carnal excesses, is then apparent to every Christian.

But the vices of the SPIRIT do not always strike the attention so forcibly; though they be as real as those of the body, and sometimes more fatal. The reason is, that the spiritual part of man does not lie so open to observation as the corporeal. The mind is not easily made an object to itself; and, when it is, we have a strange power of seeing it in a false light, and of overlooking its blemishes, or of even mistaking them for beauties. In short, the filthiness of the spirit may be long unobserved, and therefore uncleansed, if it be not pointed out to us by some friendly monitor, who is more practised in this mental inspection than ourselves, or has less interest, however, to conceal our depravity from us.

Permit me, then, to assume the charitable office of holding up to your view these spiritual vices; not all of every sort (for that would be endless) but the chief of those which tend more immediately to defeat the gracious promises made to us in the gospel.

II. I say nothing of that corruption which direct and positive infidelity strikes through the soul, whether it be the infidelity of Atheism, or what is called Deism; because, on men who espouse either of these systems, the promises of the gospel take no hold; and because it ought not, cannot be supposed, that men of no religion, or of no faith, appear in these Christian assemblies. You will think me better employed in pointing out such corruptions, as may not improbably adhere even to believers; though concealed from their own observation, it may be, or disguised, at least, to themselves, under various pretences.

1. The first of these that I shall mention is a sort of HALF-BELIEF, which floats in the mind, and, though it do not altogether renounce the hopes of the Gospel, is far from reposing a firm trust in them. Many professed believers have, I doubt, this infirmity, this taint of infidelity, still cleaving to them. They think Christianity an useful institution; nay, they think it not destitute of all divine authority. But then they reduce this authority to just nothing, by allowing themselves to put it as low as they can—by taking great liberties in explaining both its doctrines and precepts—by admitting such parts of this revelation, as they believe themselves able to make out to the satisfaction of their own minds, and by rejecting, at least by questioning in some sort, whatever they cannot perfectly understand—by treating some things as incredible, others, as impracticable; one part of their religion as too mysterious, and another as too severe. “They believe, they say, what they can: but, after all, there are many strange things in this religion; and the evidence for the truth of them is not so controuling, but that there is room for some degree of doubt and hesitation.”

All this, perhaps, they do not say to others; nay, not to themselves, except when they are pressed by some conclusion from scripture, which either their prejudices, or their passions, make them very unwilling to admit; and then they take leave to be as sceptical as the occasion requires.

But now from such a faith as this, no wholesome or permanent fruits can be expected. It has no root in them; and the promises, that should feed and nourish it, have but a faint and feeble effect; just enough, perhaps, to keep their hopes from dying outright, but much too little to push them into any vigorous efforts of obedience.

The way for such to cleanse themselves from this pollution of spirit (for to the several defects, the proper remedy in each case shall, as we go along, be subjoined) is, once for all, to examine the foundations of their religion; and, if they find them, on the whole, solid and satisfactory, to rely upon them thenceforth with a confidence entire and unshaken. They should reflect, that every revealed doctrine, of whatever sort, as standing on the same ground of infallible truth, is equally to be admitted. There is no compromising matters with their divine Master: they must either quit his service, or follow him without reserve. And this, upon the whole, they will find to be the manly and the reasonable part for them to take. To halt between two opinions so repugnant to each other, to embrace so interesting a thing as religion by halves, is neither for the credit of their courage, nor of their understanding.

Having then the promise of eternal life, let them reckon upon that promise, like men who know its value, and do not mistrust on what ground it stands. If they are Christians at all, they cannot justify it even to themselves not to be Christians in good earnest. And thus will they happily escape the disgrace of an irresolved and indolent faith; which involves them in much of the guilt, and in almost all the mischiefs, of infidelity. But,

2. There are those who have not a doubt about the truth of Christianity, and yet, through a certain LEVITY OF MIND, derive but little benefit from their conviction.

This spiritual vice is, perhaps, the commonest of all others; and, though it seems to have something prodigious in it, is easily accounted for from the intoxication of health, youth, and high spirits; from the restless pursuit of pleasure, which occupies one part of the world, and of business, which distracts another; from a too passionate love of society in many; from feverish habits of dissipation in more; and from a fatal impatience of solitude and recollection in almost all.

But, by whichsoever of these causes the vice of inconsideration, we have now before us, is produced and nourished, it is of the most malignant sort, and being ready to branch out into many others, should be resolutely checked and suppressed. Though there be nothing directly criminal in the pursuit which takes us from ourselves, it is always dangerous to lose sight of what we are, and whither we are going, and may be fatal. For, not to believe, and not to call to mind what we believe, is nearly the same thing. And when a temptation meets us thus unprepared, it wants no assistance from infidelity, but is secure of prevailing by its own strength, under cover of our inattention.

Such, I doubt not, is the sad experience of thousands, every day; while yet the misjudging world, that part of it, especially, whose interest it is to suppose that all men are equally destitute of religious principles, rashly conclude that there is no faith, where there is so much folly. “These hypocrites, say they, are convicted of the same unbelief, which they perpetually object to us:” Alas, no: they are convicted of inconsequence, only.

Not that this consideration excuses their guilt: it even aggravates and inflames it. For, when one thing, only, is needful, and they know it to be so, not to retain a practical, an habitual sense of it, but to suffer every trifle to mislead, every sudden gust of passion to drive them from the hope and end of their calling, argues an extreme depravity of mind, and deserves a harsher name than we commonly give to this conduct.

However, soften it to ourselves, as we will, under any fashionable denomination, the spirit must be cured of this vice, or the promises of the Gospel are lost upon us. And the proper remedy is but one. We must resolve, at all events, to acquire the contrary habit of consideration. We must meditate much and often on what we believe: we must force our minds to dwell upon it: we must converse more with ourselves, how bad company soever we take that to be, and less with the world, which so easily dissipates our thoughts, and oversets our best resolutions.

If we would but every day set apart a small portion of our time, were it but a few minutes, to supplicate the grace of God, and to say seriously to ourselves; I believe the promises, and I acknowledge the authority of the gospel; (and less than this, who can think excusable in any man, whatever his condition of life may be, that calls himself a Christian?) this short and easy discipline, regularly pursued, and, on no pretence whatever, intermitted, would presently effect the cure we so much want, and restore the sickly mind to its health and vigour.

3. Still, there may be a general belief in the promises of the Gospel, and a good degree of attention to them, and yet men may be but little impressed by what they thus believe and consider. This affection of the mind is sometimes experienced, but has hardly acquired a distinct name. Let us call it, if you please, a DEADNESS, or INSENSIBILITY OF HEART; which, so far as it proceeds from natural constitution, is a misfortune only; but, when cherished or even neglected by us, it becomes a fault.

The danger of it lies here, lest by seeing with indifference the most important objects of our hopes and fears, we come by degrees to neglect or overlook them; to question, perhaps, the reality of them; or, to lose, however, the benefit which even a calm view of these objects, when frequently set before the mind, must needs convey to us.

The rule in this case plainly is, To prescribe to ourselves such a regimen as is proper to correct this spiritual lethargy: that is, to stimulate the sluggish mind by the most poignant reflexions; to bring the objects of our faith as near and close to us as we can; to paint them in the liveliest colours of the imagination, which, when touched itself, easily sets fire to the affections; and, above all, to keep our eye intently and steadily upon them.

We may see the utility of this regimen, in a case which is familiar to every body.

When we look forward to the end of life, it appears at a vast distance. The many, or the few years, that lie before us, take up a great deal of room in the mind, and present the idea of a long, and almost interminable duration. Hence the fatal security in which we most of us live, as conceiving that, when so much time is on our hands, we need not be sollicitous to make the most of it.

But that all this is a mere delusion, we may see by looking back on the time that is already elapsed. We have lived in this world, twenty, forty, it may be, many more years: yet, in reflecting on this space, we find it just nothing: the several parts of it run together in the mind, and the first moment of our existence seems almost to touch upon the present. Now, by anticipating this experience, and applying it to the remaining period of our lives, we may satisfy ourselves, that the years to come will pass away as rapidly, and, when gone, will appear as inconsiderable as the past; and the effect of this anticipation must be, to convince us, that no part of this brief term is to be trifled with, or unimproved.

Then, again, we have the power of imaging to ourselves, in a very lively manner, the circumstances in which death surprises very many thoughtless persons every day; and what we should feel in their situation.

Lay then these two things together; make the shortness of life, and the terrors of an unprepared death, the frequent object of your meditation; and see if the most callous mind will not presently be much affected by them.

4. The fourth and last vice of the spirit, which I have time to mention to you, is rather, perhaps, to be accounted a complication of vices. But what I mean is that unhappy turn of mind which prompts many persons to elude the effects of faith, reflexion, and even a lively sense, in matters of religion, by certain tricks of SOPHISTRY, which they practise on themselves. They believe, and they would gladly obtain, the promises of the gospel, but repentance, they suppose, will supply the place of uniform obedience: they will repent, but not yet; there is time enough, and fitter for that purpose, when passion cools, and the heat of life is over: or, they fancy to themselves an inexhaustible fund of goodness in their religion; the terms of it may not be rigidly insisted upon; the promises may not be so conditional as they seem to be; and the threats, without doubt, will not be punctually executed. At the worst, there is no need to despair of mercy, considering the frailty of man, and the infinite merits of the Redeemer.

Such reasonings as these argue a depraved mind, and tend, further, to deprave it. But your good sense prevents me in the confutation of them. I would only observe, that this vice is, as I said, a complicated one: for, together with the unfairness and disingenuity (which belongs to all sophistry, as such) we have here united (what is too common in religious sophistry) a great deal of unwarrantable presumption.

The remedy in the case is, To cultivate in ourselves a modest and ingenuous love of truth; an awful reverence of the revealed word, and that simplicity of heart which excludes all artifice and refinement.

From these so pernicious vices of the spirit, then, that is, from a fluctuating faith, an inconsiderate levity, an inapprehensive deadness of heart, and a perverse sophistical abuse of the understanding, let us emancipate ourselves by a firm, attentive, vigorous, and ingenuous dependance on the promises of the gospel; from these defilements, I say, in particular (having shaken off the other more sordid corruptions of the flesh and spirit) let us anxiously cleanse our minds, with the view of perfecting holiness, as the text admonishes, IN THE FEAR OF GOD.

This last clause is by no means an insignificant one; as ye will see by recollecting, that the true temper of a Christian is, hope mixed with fear; hope, to animate his courage, and fear, to quicken his attention. For, unless this principle of fear, not a servile, but filial fear, inform the soul and invigorate its functions, we shall be far from PERFECTING HOLINESS; we shall at best exhibit in our lives but some broken, detached, incoherent parcels of it. A steady, uniform piety, such as begets that hope, which maketh not ashamed[62], is only kept up by a constant watchfulness and circumspection; which our probationary state plainly demands, and which nothing but the fear of God effectually secures.

SERMON XXXIII.
PREACHED APRIL 8, 1776.

1 Tim. iii. 16.

Without controversy great is the mystery of godliness: God was manifest in the flesh; justified in the spirit; seen of Angels; preached to the Gentiles; believed on in the world; received up into glory.

The inspired writers, sometimes, dilate on the articles of the Christian religion; pursue them separately, and at length, for the fuller and more distinct information of the faithful. Sometimes, again, they give them to us, as it were, in clusters: they accumulate their awful doctrines and discoveries, to strike and astonish the mind with their united force.

This last is the method of the text, which I shall a little open and explain; but so as to conform myself to the Apostle’s purpose in giving a brief collective view of Christianity, that, the whole of it being seen together, we may be the more sensibly affected by it.

1. This great mystery of godliness opens with—God manifest in the flesh.

When the scheme of man’s redemption was laid, it was not thought fit that an Apostle, a prophet, a man like ourselves, no nor an Angel or Archangel, should be the instrument of it; but that the word of God, the Son of God, nay God himself (as he is here and elsewhere[63] called) should take this momentous office upon him: that heaven should stoop to earth, and that the divine nature should condescend to leave the mansions of glory, inshrine itself in a fleshly tabernacle, should be made man, should dwell among us, and die for us.

If you ask, why may not a man, or angel, have sufficed to execute this purpose of man’s salvation; or, if only this divine person was equal to it, why he did not rather assume a glorified, than our mortal body; why it was necessary for him to inherit all our infirmities (sin only excepted,) and yet be conceived, in so extraordinary a manner of the holy Spirit; nay, and why he should be so conceived, and born of a virgin (a miracle of that peculiar sort as scarce seems capable of proof, and, in fact, is only proved indirectly by the subsequent life and character and history of this divine person): If you ask these, and a hundred other such questions, I answer readily and frankly, I know not: But then consider, that my ignorance, that is, any man’s ignorance, of the reasons why these things were done, is no argument, not so much as a presumption against there being reasons, nay, and the best reasons, for so mysterious a dispensation. Consider, too, that these mysteries no way contradict any clear principle of your own reason: all that appears is, that you should not have expected, previously to the revelation of it, such a design to be formed; and that, now it is revealed, you do not understand why it was so conducted. But we are just in the same state of ignorance, with regard to almost every part of the divine conduct. This world, so unquestionably the work of infinite wisdom and goodness, is not, in numberless respects, what we should expect it to have been; of many parts we see not the use and end; in some, there is the appearance of deformity; in others, of mischief; in all, when attentively considered, of something above, or beside, our apprehension.

Such then being the case of the natural world, why may not the moral have its depths and difficulties? You see God in the creation: why not in redemption? In the former, he condescends, according to our best philosophy, to manifest himself in the meanest reptile, all whose instincts he immediately prompts, and whose movements he directs and governs: why then might he not manifest himself in man, though in another manner, and by an union with him still more close and intimate?

But I pursue these questions no farther. It is enough that, admitting the fact, on the faith of the revelation itself, we see a wonderful goodness and condescension in this whole procedure: that we understand the importance of having such a saviour and guide and example of life, as God manifest in the flesh; that we are led to conceive, with astonishment, of the dignity of man, for whose sake the Godhead assumed our nature, and, at the same time, with consternation, of the guilt of man, for the atonement of which this assumption, with all its consequences, became necessary.

God manifest in the flesh, is then the first chapter of this mysterious book: and yet, as mysterious as it is, full of the clearest and most momentous instruction.

2. The second is, that this wonderfully compounded person was JUSTIFIED IN THE SPIRIT: that is, by, or through the Spirit: another mystery, which, however, acquaints us with this fact, that a third divine person ministered in the great work of our redemption.

And his ministry was seen in directing the ancient prophets to foretell the Redeemer’s coming[64]; in accomplishing his miraculous conception[65]; in assisting at his baptism[66]; in conducting him through his temptation[67]; in giving him the power to cast out devils, which is expressly said to be by the Spirit of God[68]; in raising him from the dead, by which event he was declared the Son of God with power, according to the spirit of holiness[69]; in descending on his disciples on the day of Pentecost[70]; in bestowing diversities of miraculous gifts[71] upon them, for the confirmation of his doctrine, and the propagation of it through the world; and lastly in sanctifying and illuminating the faithful of all times and places[72].

In all these ways (and if there be any other) Jesus was justified, that is, his commission was authenticated by the testimony of the Holy Spirit. Here, again, many curious questions may be asked: but what we clearly learn is, the awful relation we bear to the Holy Ghost, as co-operating in the scheme of man’s redemption; and the infinite dignity of that scheme itself, the execution of which required the agency of that transcendantly divine person.

Hitherto the mystery of godliness has been doubly mysterious, being wrapped up in the incomprehensible essence of the Deity. It now stoops, as it were, through this cloud of glory, and gives itself to be somewhat distinctly apprehended by us.

3. In the next view we have of the Redeemer, as being SEEN OF ANGELS.

We have some grounds from analogy to conclude, that, as there is a scale of beings below us, there is also one above us: at least, the conclusion has been pretty generally drawn: and the belief almost universal of such a scale ascending from us to God, though the uppermost round of it still be at an infinite distance from his throne. But the direct, indeed the only solid proof of its existence, is the revealed word, which speaks of Angels and Archangels, nay myriads[73] of them, disposed into different ranks, and rising above each other in a wonderful harmony and proportion.

Such is the idea which scripture gives us of the invisible world. Now, to raise our minds to some just apprehension of the great scheme of our redemption, it represents that world, as being put in motion by that scheme, as attentive and earnest to look into it[74]: and, to exalt our conceptions of the Redeemer himself, it speaks of that world as being in subjection to him; of all its inhabitants, the highest in place and dignity, as serving in his retinue, and paying homage to his person[75].

They accordingly ministered to him in this capacity, when they celebrated his birth in the fields of Bethlehem[76]; when they took part with him in his triumphs over the adversary in the desart[77]: when they flew to strengthen him in his last agonies[78]; when they attended, in their robes of state to grace his resurrection[79]: and when they ranked themselves, with all observance, about him, as he went up into heaven[80].

Of the angels, then, he was seen, on all these, and doubtless other, occasions. But how was he seen? With love and wonder unspeakable, when they saw their Lord and Master thus humbling himself for the sake of man; when they contemplated this bright effulgence of the Deity, the express image of his person[81], veiling all his glories in flesh, and,

—low-rooft beneath the skies,

as our great poet sublimely represents his humiliation[82].

Still the mystery continues, though it now submits itself to the scrutiny of our senses; for it follows,

4. That he was PREACHED TO THE GENTILES.

To enter into the full meaning of this clause, we are to reflect, That, when the nations of the earth had so prodigiously corrupted themselves as to lose the memory of the true religion, and to give themselves over to the most abominable impieties, it pleased God to select one faithful family from the rest of the degenerate world, and in due time to advance it into a numerous people; which he vouchsafed to take into a near relation to himself, and, by a singular policy, to preserve distinct and separate from the surrounding tribes of Idolaters. Henceforth, the Jews (for of that people I speak) considered themselves as the sole favourites of Heaven (as they were, indeed, the sole worshippers of the true God), and all the heathen as the outcasts of its providence.

This notion, in process of time, became so rooted in them, that when Jesus now appeared in Judea, they were ready to engross all his favours to themselves, and thought it strange and incredible, that any part of them should be conferred on the reprobate heathen. So that he himself was obliged to proceed with much caution in opening the extent of his commission, and St. Paul everywhere speaks of the design to save the Gentiles as the profoundest mystery, as that which had been kept secret since the world began[83].

In the mean time, the mercy of God had much larger views, and sent the Messiah to be the saviour of ALL men, especially of them, out of every nation, that believe[84].

But this mercy, so mysterious to the Jews, could not be much less so to the Gentiles, who must feel how disproportioned the blessing was to any deserts of man; and who saw how enormous and how general that corruption was, which in all likelihood must exclude them from it. Thus it might reasonably be matter of silent wonder[85], to both parties, to hear Christ preached to the Gentiles: only, this latter (of which party we ourselves are) might say with a peculiar exultation, what the Jews, even in glorifying the Author of it, were not, without some reluctance, brought to acknowledge; Then hath God, also, to the Gentiles granted repentance unto life.

And if the surprize be deservedly great to hear Christ preached to the Gentiles, it must in all reason grow upon us to find,

5. In the succeeding link of this mysterious chain, that he was even BELIEVED ON IN THE WORLD; that is, in the world both of Jews and Gentiles; in the former, to a certain extent; and, in the latter, to one which, though not universal, is truly astonishing.

Of the Jews it is affirmed, that multitudes[86] of them believed: and what especially redounds to their honour and to our benefit, is, that out of the Jewish believers were taken those favoured servants of God, that opened the door of faith to the Gentiles, and became his instruments in conveying the light of the Gospel to all generations. And, considering the inveterate prejudices of that people, such a measure of faith, and such effects of it, could not well have been expected from that quarter.

But then, for the Gentiles, it is astonishing to observe how quick and how general their conversion to the faith was: so that all men seemed to press[87] into the kingdom of God, and, as it were, to take it by violence[88]. For, within forty years from the death of Christ, the sound of the Gospel had gone out into all lands[89]; and, in less than three centuries from that event, the empire itself, that is, all the civilized part of the earth, became Christian: and this, in spite of every obstruction, which the lusts of men, operating with all their force, and confederated together, could throw in the way of the new religion.

So mightily grew the word of God, and prevailed[90]! and it still prevails: not every where indeed, nor any where to that degree in which, we trust, it one day will; but to a certain degree over a great part of the globe, and especially in the more enlightened parts of it: an evident proof, that reason is congenial with faith; and that nothing but ignorance, corrupted by vice, can hold out against the cross of Jesus.

Yet this power of the cross must be thought prodigious; since its pretensions are so high, and its doctrine so pure, that, in a world overgrown with presumption and vice, it could never have made its way to so much consideration, if the hand of God had not been with it.

Such is the mystery of Christ believed on in the world!

But now the Apostle, who had digressed a little from his main subject, or rather had anticipated some part of it, returns, from the effects which Christianity was to have on the world, to the person of its divine Author; who, as it follows in the

6. Sixth, and last clause of this panegyrick, WAS RECEIVED UP INTO GLORY.

And this circumstance was proper to shut up so stupendous a scene. It opened with a view of God manifest in the flesh, degraded, eclipsed, obscured by this material vestment; yet emerging out of its dark shade through the countenance of the spirit, and by the ministry of angels; then shining out in the face of the Gentiles, and gradually ascending to his meridian height in the conversion of the whole world. Yet was this prize of glory to be won by a long and painful conflict with dangers, sufferings, and death; in regard to which last enemy (the most alarming of all) the Apostle affirms, that it was not possible for so divine a person to be holden of it[91]. It follows, therefore, naturally and properly (to vindicate the Redeemer’s honour, and to replace him in that celestial state, from which he had descended), that, in his own person, he triumphed over hell and the grave, and went up visibly into heaven; there to sit down at the right hand of the Father, till, his great mediatorial scheme being accomplished, he himself shall voluntarily quit the distinction of his name and place, and GOD SHALL BE ALL IN ALL[92].

On this brief comment on the text, thus far unfolded to you, I have but one reflexion to make. Ye will not derive from it a clearer insight into the reasons of all the wonders presented to you: for I undertook only to lay before you those wonders themselves; not to account to you for them: but, if ye feel yourselves touched with a view of these things; if ye find your hearts impressed with an awful sense of your divine religion, and nourished[93] in the faith of it, then will ye be in a way to reap that fruit from this discourse, which is better than all wisdom and all knowledge; the fruit of HOLINESS, in this short but unspeakably momentous stage of your existence; and of HAPPINESS without measure, and without end, in the kingdom of glory.

SERMON XXXIV.
PREACHED MAY 19, 1776.

Isaiah l. 11.

Behold, all ye that kindle a fire, that compass yourselves about with sparks; Walk in the light of your fire, and in the sparks which ye have kindled: This shall ye have of my hand, ye shall lie down in sorrow.

The expression, we see, is figurative. By the fire kindled, and the sparks, with which men compass themselves about, may, indeed, be understood any of those worldly comforts, such as honours, riches, and pleasures, which the generality of men are studious to procure to themselves; and in the light of which they love to walk, as being that, which, in their opinion, contributes most to warm, to chear, and illustrate human life.

The effect, however, of these comforts, is, that they who possess the largest share of them, and seek for no other, lie down in sorrow: that is, their lives are without joy, and their end is without hope. This is the recompense, which they receive from the hand of God; as might easily be shewn, if my purpose, at this time, were to enlarge of that common-place in morals, the unsatisfactory nature of all earthly enjoyments.

But my design is to engage your thoughts on a different argument, to which the letter of the text more directly leads us. For light, in all languages, is the emblem of knowledge; which is to the mind, what that is to the eye: And, the speaker in the text being God himself, we are naturally led to interpret that light, of religious knowledge; that genial fire, which, more than the Sun itself, is necessary to warm our spirits, and guide our steps through the cold and dark passage of this life.

The question is, Whether we are to kindle this fire, for ourselves; or, whether we should not derive it, if we have it in our power so to do, immediately from heaven: Whether we shall do best to walk in the light of those few sparks, which our Reason is able to strike out for us, on the subject of religion; or, whether it will not be our interest, and should not be our choice, to take the benefit of that pure and steady flame, which Revelation holds out to us.

The text, in a severe, indignant irony, refers us to the former of these expedients, the better to excite our attention to the latter. Walk, says the Almighty, addressing himself to the idolaters of human reason, Walk in the light of your fire, and in the sparks which ye have kindled. But to what end is this advice given? To one, they little dreamt of, and would surely avoid—This ye shall have of my hand, in recompense of all your speculations, Ye shall lie down in sorrow.

It seems, then, to be the purpose of the text, to inculcate this great truth, That Revelation is the only sure and comfortable guide in matters of religion. And, to second this purpose, so energetically expressed by the prophet, I would now shew you, that all the sparks of human knowledge, on this important subject, are but smoke; and all the fire, which human genius or industry can kindle at the altar of human reason, ice itself; when compared with the light and heat of divine Revelation.

I SUPPOSE, that we are all convinced of what the voice of nature so loudly proclaims, that there is a God, a moral governor of the world; and that we are intimately related to him, and dependant upon him. The sum of our religious inquiries will then be

I. What we are to do, in order to obtain the favour of that God: And

II. What that favour is, which, when we have done our best, we have reason to expect from him.

Now, it will be easy to shew, that the issue of our best reason, in the former of these enquiries, is suspense and doubt; and despair, or disappointment, in the latter. It will appear, that we cannot assure ourselves of the means, by which the favour of Heaven is to be obtained; and that the highest degree of favour, we have a right to claim, is not that to which we aspire. So fated are we, when trusting to the faint, delusive light of our own minds, on this great, this only important subject, to lie down in sorrow.

I. To begin with the consideration of what we are to do, in order to obtain the favour of God.

That we are to worship God, will be allowed by all reasonable theists.

But in what way is he to be worshipped? By GIFTS AND OFFERINGS? So a great part of the world has believed. But, by what gifts and offerings, how, and when, and where, and by whom presented? Are all indifferent to him, and is no preference due to some above others? or, may not my offering lose its value, unless made in a certain manner? Is it of no moment with what rites I tender my gifts to God? Are all seasons equally fit; are all places equally pure; are all persons equally hallowed, for the oblation of them?

Or, again, are gifts and offerings, to the lord of all things, impertinent and vain? And is my reverence of him to be expressed by acts of SELF-DENIAL, PENANCE, AND MORTIFICATION? So the pious of all times have very generally conceived. But by what penance, to what end referred, to what degree carried, and how long continued?

We may think of these questions, and of ourselves, what we will. But such questions, as these, have been asked by wise men, and, when those wise men had only to take council of their own reason, have rarely been answered to their satisfaction.

Or, let us advance a step further, and say that our dependance on God is to be signified, and his favour obtained, by PRAYER: that gifts are mercenary, and penance servile; both, a manifest affront to the all-sufficient and all-merciful Deity; and that the supplications of a devout mind are the only incense fit for heaven. Be it so: Good and wise men have at all times thought highly of prayer; and are generally agreed in recommending it as the most becoming expression of human piety. But here again, doubts and difficulties meet us. How are we to pray, and for what?

Are all forms of address equally acceptable to him, we adore? The Gentile world thought not: they were solicitous to petition their Gods in a certain style, and to gain their ear by some favourite appellation. Let this, again, pass for a scruple of superstition. Still, is it indifferent with what sentiments we approach the throne of God, and with what ideas of his nature and attributes we prostrate ourselves before him? If those sentiments or ideas be not suited, in some degree, to the majesty of that great being, is there no danger that we may dishonour, may injure, may insult him by our addresses? May not our very prayers become affronts, and our praises, blasphemies?

And is it so easy to think justly on this mysterious subject, as that reason, every man’s own reason, can instruct him? What if two or three divine men of the pagan world guessed right? Was their opinion any rule, was it even any authority, to the bulk of worshippers[94]?

But say, that it was their own fault to misconceive of the Deity: still, for what shall they pray to him? For every thing, they want or wish? But thus, they would most commonly pray amiss, for what they should pray against, for what would corrupt and hurt them.

These difficulties, with regard both to the mode and matter of this duty, appeared so great to the old masters of wisdom, that some[95] of them thought it the highest effort of human wit, to form a reasonable prayer; and others supposed that none but God himself could instruct man how to do it[96].

There is a way, indeed, to cut these difficulties short; which is, by maintaining, as some[97] have done, that prayer is no duty at all; but a vain superfluous observance, justly ranked with the fancies of superstition: that God is not honoured by any external, no, nor by any mental, applications to him: that a good conscience[98] is true piety, and a spotless life, the only religion.

Admit this exalted idea of divine worship; yet, where shall we find, among the sons of Adam, one such worshipper? Who shall lay claim to that conscience, or this life? Where is the man, that passes a single day, an hour almost, without doing that which he ought not to do, or omitting somewhat he ought to have done? And what multitudes are there, who cover themselves with infamy, and with crimes?

And what shall the trembling mind do, when it looks up, as at times it cannot help doing, to that God, who is of purer eyes, than to behold iniquity?

Repent, it will be said: that species of piety is all-powerful with Heaven; it can efface sin, and restore tranquillity.

Here, again, the general sense of mankind runs another way. For, if it be so clear, that repentance alone has this virtue, how came the idea of atonement and expiation into the world? and whence the almost universal practice of propitiatory sacrifices?

It is easy, no doubt, to brand this disposition of the human mind, as so many others, with the opprobrious name of superstition. Let us see, then, what the merits and claims are, of Repentance itself.

A man offends against God, and the sense of his own mind. On reflexion (what can he do less?) he repents; and (if it please God) is forgiven. But passion revives; he offends again, and repents again; and so goes on, through his whole life, in a course of alternate transgression, and repentance. And is this all the claim he has to be received, at length, into the favour of God, that he never sinned, though he did it every day, but he was sorry for it?

Yes, you will say, If my brother trespass against me seven times in a day, and seven times in a day turn again and repent, I am bound by the law of Christ himself to forgive him[99]. And will God be less placable, than his creature man is required to be[100]?

This rule of conduct is very fit to be observed by one offender towards another: but is it past a doubt that it will, that it must take place between God and man? WE are bound to this repeated, this continual forgiveness of others, by a sense of our common infirmities. HE has a government to support; of what extent, over what worlds, and how connected with this, no man may say: And what would become of government in this world, if every convict was to be pardoned on repentance?

Nor is it enough to reply, that human governors cannot pronounce on the sincerity of such repentance. If they could, they would certainly not regulate their proceedings by that consideration. The law has denounced a penalty on such a crime: And the public interest requires that the penalty, for example-sake, be inflicted.

Something, like this, may be true of God’s moral government. No man can say, it is not. And therefore repentance, as plausible as its plea may appear, can never free the guilty mind from all apprehension.

But another dreadful circumstance attends this matter. We often satisfy ourselves, that we repent of a past crime: Yet we commit that crime again; perhaps the very next hour. Can we call that repentance sincere? Or, have we a right to conclude that God, who sees through all the prevarication and duplicity of our hearts, must accept such repentance, on our profession of it? Let what virtue there will be in repentance, when seen by the unerring eye of God to be true and unfeigned, how shall man reckon on the efficacy of it, when he may so easily mistake, and cannot certainly know the real worth and character of what he calls repentance?

Here then, whether we consider what the moral attributes of the Deity, and his righteous government, may demand; or whether we regard the weakness and inefficacy of our best purposes; there is room enough for the terrors of religion to invade and possess the mind, in spite of all that Reason can do to repell, or dislodge them from it.

After all, in contemplation of that infinite mercy which surrounds the throne of God, and of the infirmity incident to frail man, I am willing to suppose (as it is our common interest to do) that repentance, at all times, and how oft soever renewed, is a ground, on which he may reasonably build fair hopes and chearful expectations. To repent, is always the best thing we can do: It is always a conduct right in itself; and, as such, is intitled, we will say, on the principles of natural religion, to the divine acceptance.

But what does that ACCEPTANCE import? The reward of eternal life? A remission of all punishment? or, only an abatement of it? Here, again, fresh difficulties start up, and come to be considered,

II. Under the second general head of this discourse; in which it was proposed to inquire, What that favour is, which, when we have done our best to recommend ourselves to God, we have reason to expect at his hands?

1. If presumptuous man could learn to estimate himself at his true worth, he might perhaps see reason to conclude, that his highest moral merit can pretend to no more, than to some abatement of present or future punishment.

Let him calculate how oft, how knowingly, how willfully he hath offended; and, on the other hand, when he did his duty, how coldly, how remissly, how reluctantly he did it: with what a gust of passion he disobeyed; and with what indifference he repented: with how full a consent of his mind, with what deliberation, and against what conviction, he sinned; and then, again, with what hesitation, by what degrees, in what circumstances, and upon what motives, he recovered himself from any bad habit: In a word, how full and complete and contagious his vices have been; and how faint and partial and ineffective, his best virtues: Let him, I say, calculate all this, and then tell us where is the stock of merit, on the balance of the account, that should encourage him to do more than hope that some part of the punishment, he hath justly incurred, may by a merciful judge be struck off, in consideration of his virtues? If such a man recovered his health, when he left his intemperance; or his credit in the world, when he shook hands with his injustice; or, if his penitence could avail so far as to shorten the term, or qualify the rigour, of his sufferings in some other state of being, would he not have reason to think he had all the recompense he deserved? Could most men, at least, on a strict scrutiny of their hearts and lives, carry their pretensions higher? But,

2. But let us be indulgent to human virtue, and suppose it pure and active enough to work out all the guilt, which vice had contracted, could it do more than cancel the punishment due to vice, and should we be authorized to expect more than a full remission of it? Suppose, that after a long life, checquered with good and bad actions, but in such sort as that the good equalled the bad, and perfectly atoned for them (and which of us will say, that this is not a favourable supposition?); suppose, I say, that after such a life, as this, the whole man were suffered to fall into a state of insensibility, that all his powers and faculties were suspended, or the man himself utterly extinguished, could we complain of this allotment, or could reason pretend that it was not according to the rules of strict justice?

3. Still I agree to make a further concession to the pride of Virtue. Let the moral qualities of some men be so excellent, and the tenour of their lives so pure, as to entitle them to a positive reward from the great searcher of hearts and inspector of human actions: would not the daily blessings of this life be a suitable recompense for such desert; would not health, and prosperity, and reputation, and peace of mind, be an adequate return for their best services? Or, if all this did not satisfy their claims, could they require more than such a portion of happiness in a future state, as should correspond to their merits, and make them full amends for all the sacrifices they here made to Conscience and to Virtue? And might not a small degree of such happiness, and for a short term, be an equivalent for such sacrifices? Could they dream of living for ever, and of living happily for ever in heaven; and call such a reward, as this, a debt, a claim of right, which could not justly be withheld from them? Could any man in his senses pretend, even to himself, that a Virtue of sixty or seventy years, though ever so perfect, ever so constant, deserved immortal life in bliss and glory? Incredible: impossible: the merit and the recompense are too widely disjoined, the disproportion between them is too vast, to give the least colour of reason to such expectations. A Saint, or a Martyr, has no claim of right to so immense a reward, so transcendant a felicity.

’Tis true, Christianity gives us these hopes, which Reason forwardly assumes, and makes her own; forgetting at the same time, or unthankfully slighting, the only grounds on which they are founded. For, though eternal life be promised to favoured man in the Gospel, it is there promised to him, not as a debt, but as a free gift; and that, not in consideration of his good works, but of his faith in Jesus.

See then, to what the hopes of nature, the conclusions of reason and philosophy, amount, on this interesting subject. We are in the hands of an all-wise and all-righteous God, and are undone without his favour. Yet how that favour is to be obtained, we know not; or, if we do know, we are unable of ourselves to obtain it in the degree, we wish, and to the ends, for which we aspire to it. Our best speculations on the means of propitiating Heaven, are mixed with uncertainty; and our best hopes dashed with mistrust and suspicion. For what man is so righteous as to have perfect confidence in his good works; or, so sanguine, as to think heaven the due reward of them? And yet will any thing, short of this, content our impatient desires? Should our virtues merit no more than some abatement of future misery, so justly due to our innumerable ill deserts, how sad a prospect have we before us? or, if they do but free us from punishment, what man is so abject as not to shudder at the thought of extinction or insensibility? or, lastly, if they supply some faint hope of future reward, what generous man but wishes more to himself, than a slight, a precarious, and short-lived happiness; beyond which, as we have seen, he has no right to extend his expectations?

If the Gentiles, who had only the light of Nature to conduct them, had no way to get quit of these doubts and fears, their condition was certainly unhappy, but would bespeak the mercy of God: their disadvantages and distresses would be allowed for, and considered by him. But for those, who have now the light of Heaven shining about them, and yet chuse to walk in the dim, disastrous twilight of their own reason, what must be their folly, as well as misery? I say, their misery. For this last is no secret to observing men, notwithstanding the airs of gaiety and satisfaction, they sometimes assume; and indeed deserves the tenderest pity, though their perverse folly be apt to excite a different passion.

But to conclude: It is enough to have shewn, in justification of the sacred text, that they who walk in the light of their own fire, and in the sparks which they have kindled, have this recompense of their choice, allotted to them by the hand of God, and the nature of things, That they do and must lie down in sorrow.

To you, who have determined more wisely to govern yourselves by faith, and not by Reason only; who rejoice to walk in the clear sunshine of the blessed Gospel, and not in the malignant light of philosophical speculation, To you, I say, the reward of your better conduct, is, that ye know how to recommend yourselves to the favour of God; and ye know what to expect from that favour: Ye understand that, by FAITH AND REPENTANCE, ye have peace of mind in this transitory life, and assured hopes of immortal unspeakable felicity, reserved for you in the heavens.

SERMON XXXV.
PREACHED NOVEMBER 15, 1767.

2 Cor. iv. 3.

If our Gospel be hid, it is hid to them that are lost.

The text implies, that the evidence, with which Christianity is attended, may fail of convincing the minds of some men. And indeed from the time that the Sun of righteousness rose upon the earth, there have always been those, who could not, or would not, be enlightened by Him.

Now it might be a question, whether this effect were owing to the nature of the evidence itself, or to some obscurity in the manner of proposing it. This, I say, might have been a question, even among Christians themselves, if the Apostle had not determined it to our hands. He who was fully instructed in the truths of the Gospel, knew the evidence, with which they were accompanied, was enlightened by the same spirit that had inspired them, and had great experience in the different tempers and capacities of men, roundly asserts that Infidelity has no countenance, either from within or without, neither from the sort or degree of evidence, by which the Christian Revelation is supported, nor from any mysterious conveyance of it; but that, universally, the fault lies in those, who do not receive it. If the Gospel be hid, it is hid to them that are lost: to those, who would not be convinced by any evidence whatsoever.

What the evidences of Christianity, in fact, are, and how abundantly sufficient for the conviction of all reasonable men, I shall not now enquire. The subject is fitter for a volume, than a discourse in this place. Let it be supposed, on St. Paul’s authority, that those evidences are sufficient; still ye may be curious to know, and it may tend to the establishment of your faith to understand, how it has come to pass, that so much light could be resisted.

To this question a pertinent answer has been given from the prejudices and passions, from the vices and corruptions of unbelievers; it being no new thing that men should love darkness rather than light, when their deeds are, and when they have resolved with themselves they shall be, evil[101]. For, as our Lord himself argues in this case, Every one that doth evil, hateth the light, lest his deeds should be reproved: But he that doth the Truth, cometh to the light, that his deeds may be manifested, that they are wrought in God[102].

But then it has been replied, that, though Vice may be many times the ground of infidelity, and the condemnation of such men be just, yet that some, too, have disbelieved from no such motives; that the Gospel has been rejected by persons, who appear to have been men of large and liberal minds, as free, as others, from all perverse prejudices, and as little subject to gross vice or passion: Nay, that, in the class of unbelievers, there have been those who have distinguished themselves as much by the purity of their lives, as the brightness of their understandings.

All this may be true; and yet our Saviour affirms, that he, who believeth not, is condemned already[103]; and St. Paul in the text, to the same purpose, that if the Gospel be hid, it is hid to them that are lost. There must needs, then, be some latent cause of this strange fact; some secret depravity lurking in the mind of those, who disbelieve the Gospel, thought appearances be thus fair and flattering. And, though Christian Charity be not forward to think evil of his neighbour, yet in this case we have reason to suspect it: and what we suspect, we may perhaps find, in a VICE so secret and insinuating, that it creeps upon men unawares; so congenial, as it were, to our depraved nature, that hardly any man can be sure of his being wholly free from it; and so ingenious in disguising itself, as to pass upon others, nay upon the man possessed by it, for one of his best qualities.

By these characters, ye will easily see I speak of self-love, or rather the vicious exertion of it in what we call, PRIDE: A vice, which may as fatally obstruct our pursuit of Truth, as any the most vulgar immorality; and the rather, because it is not easily suspected or acknowledged by us.

This vice then it may be, that hides the Gospel from those better sort of men, to whom it is hid. They had need examine themselves well, for it assumes, as I said, the most imposing forms. Who would look for it, in the cultivation of the mind, and the love of Virtue? Yet in either of these, it may lie concealed: and an inquirer into the truth of the most rational, and the purest of all religions, may be prejudiced against it by a double Pride, by the PRIDE OF REASON, and the PRIDE OF VIRTUE.

I. First, Infidelity may proceed from the Pride of Reason.

When it pleased God to bestow the faculty of Reason on his creature, Man, he intended that this substitute of himself should be the guide of life, and the handmaid of Religion. And that it might serve to these purposes, it was made sagacious enough, if honestly exerted, to lead him to some competent knowledge of his Maker, and of his moral duty, and to judge of the pretensions of any further light from Heaven, which might be graciously vouchsafed to him.

Man, proud of this free Gift, was in haste to make trial of its strength; and finding it could do something, too easily concluded it could do every thing. Yet its weakness soon appeared; first, in man’s transgression, and consequent forfeiture of another free Gift, that of immortality; and next, in the portentous errors he fell into, both in respect of virtue and religion. For God, who had graciously intended for him, in due time, another and safer guide, to prepare him for the reception of it, and to convince him, in the mean time, how much it was wanted, had suffered him to abuse this, to the worst purposes, of immorality, and idolatry: by both which the earth was generally overspread for many ages, and even in the most enlightened times, notwithstanding his Reason might, and should have taught him better.

But God’s wisdom and goodness foresaw this abuse, and provided, from the first, for the correction of it. He had signified his purpose from the moment of man’s transgression, and afterwards by a gradual opening of his scheme, in many successive revelations; all terminating in that universal redemption of mankind by the sacrifice, and through the Gospel, of his Son. This last and greatest instance of the divine love for man, it might be expected, after so much experience of his own debility and folly, he would gladly and thankfully receive; and, that he might be qualified to discern the hand of God from the practices of fallible and designing men, was one main end, as I said, which God designed in lighting up the lamp of Reason in him.

But now this boasted Guide, though found to be poor and weak, grew proud and presumptuous. It would not only judge of the credentials of divine Revelation (which was its proper office, and without which faculty of judging there could be no security from the endless impostures of fanaticism and superstition, but not content with this power) it would decide peremptorily on the nature and fitness of the Revelation itself; and would either admit none, or such only, as it should perfectly comprehend.

Here, then, Reason forgot its own use, and power: its use, which was to bring him to the acknowledgement of a divine Religion; and its power, which did not enable him to judge of the infinite counsels of God, but to try whether any such were revealed to him. In a word, he forgot that his utmost capacity extended no farther than just to see whether the proposed Revelation were such as might come from God, as contradicting no clear and certain principles of reason, and whether the evidences were such as proved that it did so. If it contained nothing repugnant to right Reason, that is, to a prior light derived from the same source of Truth, it might come from Heaven; if the attestations of it were clear and convincing, it must proceed from that quarter. To try its credibility and authority, was then within the province of Reason: to determine of its absolute necessity and fitness, and to explore the depth and height of those counsels, on which it is framed, was above its reach and comprehension.

Yet Reason assumed to herself, too generally, this latter office; and this I call, the PRIDE of Reason. Hence all its wanderings and miscarriages; from this perverse application of its powers arose all the heresies that have distracted the Christian Church, and all the infidel systems that have been invented to overthrow it. In both cases, men would be wise above, or against, what was written.

Of the Heresies, I have nothing to say at this time. They appear at large in the ecclesiastical historian. Of the dreams of infidelity, as arising from the fumes of pride, so much is to be said, as my present subject requires of me, but this in as few words as possible.

The pride of Reason has then pronounced (as it operated at different times, and on different tempers), that Revelation is unnecessary, because Reason could see and discover by its own light all that was needful to our direction and happiness—that, if it were wanted by us, it was impossible to be given consistently with the laws of nature and experience—that as to that pretended scheme of Revelation, called the Gospel, its morality indeed was pure enough, but that it carried no other internal marks of its divinity: that its doctrines were such as Reason would not expect, and in many cases could not understand: that it talked of divine things in a manner that was strange and extraordinary; of a purpose to redeem mankind which, if it were needful at all, might have been effected by more rational and less operose methods; and to save and sanctify them by such means as seemed fanciful and delusive: that the divine nature was spoken of in high mysterious terms, which puzzle and confound our Metaphysics; and that the offices, in which the Godhead was employed, are either degrading, or such as imply an immoderate and inconceivable condescension.

And what then, say others, is the basis on which this incredible Revelation rests? Why on Miracles, which we cannot admit, as being violations or suspensions of those laws, by which we know the Supreme Being governs the world; and on Prophecies, which may have been feigned, as many have been, or which imply such a prescience in the Deity of free contingent events, as is perhaps impossible. If the Gospel then is to be admitted as a truly divine Revelation, convince us, that its external proofs are above all doubt and suspicion; and that all its internal characters are such as lie open to the perfect scrutiny, and entire investigation of our faculties.

Thus does the Pride of Reason vaunt itself, against Reason. For, if to any or all of these objections (on which so many infidel systems hang) we should only say, that they are nothing to the purpose, what could the objectors reply to us? If pressed closely, they could only take refuge in this principle, that no Religion can be divine, all the reasons of which are not fully known to us; a principle, for which they have surely no warrant from right Reason. How do they know what is necessary, or fit, or right, with regard to the divine dispensations, I mean (which is the case here) when they only silence, not contradict our Reason? Every thing may be fit and right, and might appear to be so, if the whole scheme of Providence were fully unveiled to us. It must be fit and right, whether we see it or no, if the Religion in question be credibly attested: And the credibility will depend not on our fancies or expectations of I know not what irresistible evidence (which it might be best and wisest not to give) but on the real moment of the arguments, on which it is established.

So that the last effort of Infidelity is only an appeal to the ignorance of mankind; which proves nothing but the necessity of a long-forgotten virtue, Modesty, in our researches into Religion.

We see then how the Pride of Reason has betrayed presumptuous men into a disbelief of Revelation, and how true it is that, if the Gospel be hid, it is hid to them that are lost, as well by this means, as by any other.

II. But, secondly, there is A PRIDE OF VIRTUE, as well as of Reason: and by this Pride, too, (such is the infirmity of our common nature) the Gospel may be hid from us.

On whatever foundation a man chuses to build his moral system, he easily convinces himself of the worth and excellence of moral action. The reasonableness, the utility, and the beauty of Virtue are so conspicuous, that even the vicious look up to her with respect, and the virtuous easily grow enamoured of her. Thus it came to be among the extravagances of the Stoics, its best friends in the pagan world, that virtue was not only the perfection of man’s nature, but that it raised him in some sense, above the Divine[104]. And to make their arrogant system all of a piece, they further maintained that this super-celestial virtue, in which they gloried, was their own proper acquisition; that they derived it wholly from themselves, and that God did not, and could not give it[105].

This, you will say, was stoical pride; but it is, too commonly, also, the pride of virtue, of whatever denomination. Penetrated with a lively sense of its use and excellence, virtuous men, especially of a certain temperament, take fire from their own heated ideas, and flame out into a kind of moral fanaticism. They consider virtue, as the supreme and only good, absolute in itself, and independant of any other. They exalt and deify themselves in their own imaginations; and, though their language may be more decent, the sense of their hearts is truly stoical.

See, now, whether virtue, under this intoxication, be in a condition to benefit by the sober truths of the Gospel. It presents to us a frightful picture of the moral world; much is said concerning the weakness and inefficacy of moral virtue. This representation, of itself, is disgusting. But one great design of the Gospel was to reform this state of things: And thus far is well: But by what means would it reform it? Why, among others, by Faith and Hope. Yet, in Faith, the proud moralist sees no virtue, at all; and Hope, in his ideas, degrades and servilizes his adored virtue. The Gospel proposes to save us by the sacrifice of Christ: But He acknowledges no need of any sacrifice; relies, with confidence, on his own merits; and disdains the notion of an intercessor. He holds, that nothing more could be intended by a Revelation, if such were given, than the promotion of our virtue; and that we want not its aid, for that purpose: that we read our duty in the sense of our own minds; which Reason enforces in as high terms, as the Gospel, in a more engaging way, and on principles more sublime and generous.

Above all, the Gospel speaks much of the succours of Grace, as necessary to infuse and to confirm our virtue; a language, which the Pride of virtue will not understand: And of a Heaven, and a Hell; by which if any thing more be meant than the proper natural effects of virtue and vice itself, the idea is rejected, as superfluous and even childish.

To such an extreme of folly, and even impiety, may the Pride of virtue carry us; and so fatally may the Gospel be hid from those, whom this last infirmity of human nature blinds by its specious illusions! And that this is no ideal picture, but one taken from the life, will appear to those who know any thing of human nature; and of the perverse prejudices, by which some ingenious, and otherwise virtuous men, have suffered themselves to be misled in their religious inquiries[106].

Enough has been said to shew the issue of intellectual and moral Pride: And how it comes to pass that men lose themselves, who reason, on Religion, without modesty, or would be virtuous without Religion.

The application is short, but striking. It is, That men should examine themselves well, before they presume to think slightly of the Gospel. They may learn to suspect the power and influence of their grosser passions, when they see that even these refined ones may corrupt their judgement, and betray them into Infidelity.

The Apostle says expressly, that if the Gospel be hid, it is hid to them that are lost: and who, that rejects the Gospel, but must tremble for himself, when his REASON, nay his VIRTUE, may be the instrument of his ruin?

SERMON XXXVI.
PREACHED NOVEMBER 13, 1774.

1 Peter iii. 15.

—Be ready always to give an answer to every man that asketh You a reason of the hope, that is in You, with meekness and fear.

These words have been often and justly quoted to prove the rational genius of our religion: but they have sometimes been quoted to prove much more, “The obligation, that Christians are under, to justify their religion, in the way of argument, against all opposers, and to satisfy all the difficulties and objections, that can be brought against it.” A magnificent pretension! but surely without authority from the text, as I shall briefly shew, by enquiring,

1. Who the persons are, to whom this direction is given:

2. What that hope is, which is in them, and concerning which they are supposed to be interrogated: And therefore

3. Lastly, what the proper answer, or apology must be, of those persons, when required to give a reason of such hope.

The resolution of these questions will afford us a clear insight into the meaning of the text: and then we shall be enabled to make some pertinent and useful reflexions upon it.

1. St. Peter addresses himself to the elect strangers scattered throughout Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bythinia—i. e. most probably, to Jewish Christians, dispersed through these countries, in which they were properly strangers; though, in some sense, all good men are strangers and sojourners on earth, and therefore the use of this term may not necessarily exclude such Heathen converts to the faith, as lived in those quarters. But whatever be the precise meaning of the term, it is clear, that all persons of this general denomination, or all the stranger Christians, residing in the places, here mentioned, are, without distinction, concerned in this catholic epistle. There is not a word that implies any difference of age, or sex, or education, or rank: not the least regard is had to the office of some, or the qualifications of others: all indiscriminately, of the class specified, who had knowledge and understanding enough to profess themselves Christians, are the objects of the Apostle’s address: and of these, universally, is the requisition made, that they be ready always to give an answer to every man, that asketh a reason of the hope that is in them. But what then

2. Is that Hope, of which all such persons were expected and required to render a reason? Plainly the general hope of Christians, the hope of eternal life, the hope of a resurrection from the dead, the blessed hope, in short, of salvation through Jesus Christ.

The context shews, that it was this hope, and this only, of which they were to give an account. For, in the preceding verse, the Apostle had been speaking of the trials which they should undergo for the sake of their religion. Possibly, they were, then, in a state of persecution; or, it was foreseen that they soon would be in that state. But and if ye suffer, says he, for righteousness sake, happy are ye. Why? because they knew the hope of their calling, and the ample recompense that would be made them in a future life for all such sufferings. Therefore, he advises that they should always have this precious hope present to them, and well established in their minds: nay, and that, for their own better support in the midst of their sufferings, and for the vindication of themselves to others, their persecutors, perhaps, who might ask on what grounds they exposed themselves to such torments, they should have in readiness an answer, or apology for their own conduct, setting forth the reason they had to confide in that hope; from which reason it would appear that they acted, as became prudent men, and not as blind, frantic enthusiasts.

It being now seen, to whom the text is directed, and what the hope, under consideration, is, we have no difficulty in answering

3. The last question, “What the proper answer might, or rather must be, of such persons, when required to give a reason of such hope?”

For what other answer could they give (and this they all might give), than that their Lord and Master, Jesus Christ, by whom they had been encouraged to entertain this hope, had shewn himself well able to make it good by his own resurrection? They might say, in the words of the Apostle Paul (who apologized for himself to the Athenians, in like circumstances), We therefore think ourselves happy in suffering for righteousness sake,—because God hath appointed a day in the which he will judge the world in righteousness, by that man whom he hath ordained; whereof he hath given assurance unto all men, in that he hath raised him from the dead[107].

This was an obvious reason of the hope, that was in them, and level to all capacities. It was, also, a sufficient reason, if it was any at all, that is, if the fact alleged be true; and, that it was so, they might appeal to the testimony of those, who had seen the Lord and conversed with him, after his resurrection; nay, whom themselves had seen confirming that testimony by signs and wonders, done in the name of Jesus.

We see, then, what is the true and full meaning of the text. The Apostle exhorts those, to whom he writes, all of them, the simpler, as well as more informed, to bear in mind the end of their religion, EVERLASTING LIFE; and the grounds, on which they expected it, the WORD of their divine MASTER, confirmed to them by them that heared him[108], and by his rising from the dead.

And now we are at liberty to make some reflexions on the text, which may be useful and instructive to us.

And, first, I observe, as most others have done, that Christians are allowed and encouraged to reason on the subject of their religion, and to build their faith on conviction. For the Apostle’s advice is, not to decline the way of argument, but to use such arguments as are cogent and satisfactory. And in this free exercise of the understanding, which is permitted, or rather enjoined to all Christians, the manly genius of our religion is seen, and by it is distinguished from that of every blind and servile superstition. But then,

Secondly, I observe, that this work of reason is enjoined, only, with regard to the hope, that is in us, that is, to the end and scope of Christianity, and to the authority on which it rests; in other words, with regard to the EVIDENCES of this Religion.

It is true, these evidences are a different thing to different persons, according to their respective situations. To the primitive Christians, such as those to whom the exhortation of the text is addressed, it was evidence sufficient, “That they had the great facts of the Gospel, especially that decisive fact, the resurrection of Christ, reported to them by persons, who had been eye-witnesses of those extraordinary transactions, or, who had heared them, at least, from eye-witnesses, and were endowed, besides, with the power of working miracles in confirmation of their testimony.” For in those days, it is to be observed, they, who were commissioned to plant the Gospel in the world, went forth, and preached every where, the Lord working with them, and confirming the word with signs following[109].

This state of things continued through what is called the Apostolic Age, and perhaps longer, during which time it was easy for the plainest Christian to give such an answer, to these who required a reason of the hope that was in him, as was perfectly satisfactory. But, when the Gospels were admitted by the faithful, as authentic accounts of their Master’s history and doctrine, and when the Apostles had further drawn out and explained the principles and proofs of Christianity in their several writings, that is, when the Canon of the New Testament was completed, and generally received (all which was done within the first century from the Christian æra), Then the appeal lay to these scriptures, and the ground of a Christian’s persuasion was, the authority of the inspired writers. And now, if believers were asked the reason of the hope that was in them, the answer was, “That so it was written in books, which were in all hands, and allowed by all to contain nothing but infallible truth.” Nor could the force of this answer be disputed, when the memory of certain facts was recent, when the places where, and the person to whom, or for whose use the sacred books were written, could be pointed out, and when the writers of them were known, by the miracles wrought by them, to have been under the direction of the Holy Ghost.

On the conviction, which this apology carried with it, the world became Christian. But in process of time, and after a course of many ages, it might be doubted whether those books had been transmitted pure and uncorrupted. And under these circumstances the answer, being somewhat enlarged, stands thus: “That the hope of a Christian is founded on the authority of the sacred canon, composed by inspired men, as was universally allowed in the first ages of Christianity, and not materially altered, as we have reason to believe, to this day.”

The answer given in these three periods, is, you see, very general, because the question is, on what grounds of reason a plain man could justify his profession of Christianity: and the answer, in each case, is a proper one, and of real weight. But the answer of knowing and skilful men is more particular, may indeed be infinitely varied and extended according to the abilities of the answerer; and, from such minute, and laboured apologies much additional light and conviction hath been derived. Still you see the subject of inquiry, is, the EVIDENCES of Christianity, how different soever in different ages, and in the view of different persons in the same age. All that unbelievers have a right to ask, is, on what grounds we affirm the truth and divinity of our religion: and the sole duty which the text imposes upon us, is to satisfy that question. Their curiosity, and our labour, should not, at least needs not, be extended beyond these bounds. But

Thirdly, what if inquisitive men should go farther, and, when they have set forth the evidences of Christianity to their own satisfaction, and that of others, should proceed to give us a rationale of its doctrines: Would not their pains be useful, as tending very much to promote the honour of our divine religion?