summaryrefslogtreecommitdiff
path: root/54541-h/54541-h.htm
blob: cf271ec791bab84e2b5bb1e7ea3bd17ae7d7d85c (plain) 
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464
465
466
467
468
469
470
471
472
473
474
475
476
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487
488
489
490
491
492
493
494
495
496
497
498
499
500
501
502
503
504
505
506
507
508
509
510
511
512
513
514
515
516
517
518
519
520
521
522
523
524
525
526
527
528
529
530
531
532
533
534
535
536
537
538
539
540
541
542
543
544
545
546
547
548
549
550
551
552
553
554
555
556
557
558
559
560
561
562
563
564
565
566
567
568
569
570
571
572
573
574
575
576
577
578
579
580
581
582
583
584
585
586
587
588
589
590
591
592
593
594
595
596
597
598
599
600
601
602
603
604
605
606
607
608
609
610
611
612
613
614
615
616
617
618
619
620
621
622
623
624
625
626
627
628
629
630
631
632
633
634
635
636
637
638
639
640
641
642
643
644
645
646
647
648
649
650
651
652
653
654
655
656
657
658
659
660
661
662
663
664
665
666
667
668
669
670
671
672
673
674
675
676
677
678
679
680
681
682
683
684
685
686
687
688
689
690
691
692
693
694
695
696
697
698
699
700
701
702
703
704
705
706
707
708
709
710
711
712
713
714
715
716
717
718
719
720
721
722
723
724
725
726
727
728
729
730
731
732
733
734
735
736
737
738
739
740
741
742
743
744
745
746
747
748
749
750
751
752
753
754
755
756
757
758
759
760
761
762
763
764
765
766
767
768
769
770
771
772
773
774
775
776
777
778
779
780
781
782
783
784
785
786
787
788
789
790
791
792
793
794
795
796
797
798
799
800
801
802
803
804
805
806
807
808
809
810
811
812
813
814
815
816
817
818
819
820
821
822
823
824
825
826
827
828
829
830
831
832
833
834
835
836
837
838
839
840
841
842
843
844
845
846
847
848
849
850
851
852
853
854
855
856
857
858
859
860
861
862
863
864
865
866
867
868
869
870
871
872
873
874
875
876
877
878
879
880
881
882
883
884
885
886
887
888
889
890
891
892
893
894
895
896
897
898
899
900
901
902
903
904
905
906
907
908
909
910
911
912
913
914
915
916
917
918
919
920
921
922
923
924
925
926
927
928
929
930
931
932
933
934
935
936
937
938
939
940
941
942
943
944
945
946
947
948
949
950
951
952
953
954
955
956
957
958
959
960
961
962
963
964
965
966
967
968
969
970
971
972
973
974
975
976
977
978
979
980
981
982
983
984
985
986
987
988
989
990
991
992
993
994
995
996
997
998
999
1000
1001
1002
1003
1004
1005
1006
1007
1008
1009
1010
1011
1012
1013
1014
1015
1016
1017
1018
1019
1020
1021
1022
1023
1024
1025
1026
1027
1028
1029
1030
1031
1032
1033
1034
1035
1036
1037
1038
1039
1040
1041
1042
1043
1044
1045
1046
1047
1048
1049
1050
1051
1052
1053
1054
1055
1056
1057
1058
1059
1060
1061
1062
1063
1064
1065
1066
1067
1068
1069
1070
1071
1072
1073
1074
1075
1076
1077
1078
1079
1080
1081
1082
1083
1084
1085
1086
1087
1088
1089
1090
1091
1092
1093
1094
1095
1096
1097
1098
1099
1100
1101
1102
1103
1104
1105
1106
1107
1108
1109
1110
1111
1112
1113
1114
1115
1116
1117
1118
1119
1120
1121
1122
1123
1124
1125
1126
1127
1128
1129
1130
1131
1132
1133
1134
1135
1136
1137
1138
1139
1140
1141
1142
1143
1144
1145
1146
1147
1148
1149
1150
1151
1152
1153
1154
1155
1156
1157
1158
1159
1160
1161
1162
1163
1164
1165
1166
1167
1168
1169
1170
1171
1172
1173
1174
1175
1176
1177
1178
1179
1180
1181
1182
1183
1184
1185
1186
1187
1188
1189
1190
1191
1192
1193
1194
1195
1196
1197
1198
1199
1200
1201
1202
1203
1204
1205
1206
1207
1208
1209
1210
1211
1212
1213
1214
1215
1216
1217
1218
1219
1220
1221
1222
1223
1224
1225
1226
1227
1228
1229
1230
1231
1232
1233
1234
1235
1236
1237
1238
1239
1240
1241
1242
1243
1244
1245
1246
1247
1248
1249
1250
1251
1252
1253
1254
1255
1256
1257
1258
1259
1260
1261
1262
1263
1264
1265
1266
1267
1268
1269
1270
1271
1272
1273
1274
1275
1276
1277
1278
1279
1280
1281
1282
1283
1284
1285
1286
1287
1288
1289
1290
1291
1292
1293
1294
1295
1296
1297
1298
1299
1300
1301
1302
1303
1304
1305
1306
1307
1308
1309
1310
1311
1312
1313
1314
1315
1316
1317
1318
1319
1320
1321
1322
1323
1324
1325
1326
1327
1328
1329
1330
1331
1332
1333
1334
1335
1336
1337
1338
1339
1340
1341
1342
1343
1344
1345
1346
1347
1348
1349
1350
1351
1352
1353
1354
1355
1356
1357
1358
1359
1360
1361
1362
1363
1364
1365
1366
1367
1368
1369
1370
1371
1372
1373
1374
1375
1376
1377
1378
1379
1380
1381
1382
1383
1384
1385
1386
1387
1388
1389
1390
1391
1392
1393
1394
1395
1396
1397
1398
1399
1400
1401
1402
1403
1404
1405
1406
1407
1408
1409
1410
1411
1412
1413
1414
1415
1416
1417
1418
1419
1420
1421
1422
1423
1424
1425
1426
1427
1428
1429
1430
1431
1432
1433
1434
1435
1436
1437
1438
1439
1440
1441
1442
1443
1444
1445
1446
1447
1448
1449
1450
1451
1452
1453
1454
1455
1456
1457
1458
1459
1460
1461
1462
1463
1464
1465
1466
1467
1468
1469
1470
1471
1472
1473
1474
1475
1476
1477
1478
1479
1480
1481
1482
1483
1484
1485
1486
1487
1488
1489
1490
1491
1492
1493
1494
1495
1496
1497
1498
1499
1500
1501
1502
1503
1504
1505
1506
1507
1508
1509
1510
1511
1512
1513
1514
1515
1516
1517
1518
1519
1520
1521
1522
1523
1524
1525
1526
1527
1528
1529
1530
1531
1532
1533
1534
1535
1536
1537
1538
1539
1540
1541
1542
1543
1544
1545
1546
1547
1548
1549
1550
1551
1552
1553
1554
1555
1556
1557
1558
1559
1560
1561
1562
1563
1564
1565
1566
1567
1568
1569
1570
1571
1572
1573
1574
1575
1576
1577
1578
1579
1580
1581
1582
1583
1584
1585
1586
1587
1588
1589
1590
1591
1592
1593
1594
1595
1596
1597
1598
1599
1600
1601
1602
1603
1604
1605
1606
1607
1608
1609
1610
1611
1612
1613
1614
1615
1616
1617
1618
1619
1620
1621
1622
1623
1624
1625
1626
1627
1628
1629
1630
1631
1632
1633
1634
1635
1636
1637
1638
1639
1640
1641
1642
1643
1644
1645
1646
1647
1648
1649
1650
1651
1652
1653
1654
1655
1656
1657
1658
1659
1660
1661
1662
1663
1664
1665
1666
1667
1668
1669
1670
1671
1672
1673
1674
1675
1676
1677
1678
1679
1680
1681
1682
1683
1684
1685
1686
1687
1688
1689
1690
1691
1692
1693
1694
1695
1696
1697
1698
1699
1700
1701
1702
1703
1704
1705
1706
1707
1708
1709
1710
1711
1712
1713
1714
1715
1716
1717
1718
1719
1720
1721
1722
1723
1724
1725
1726
1727
1728
1729
1730
1731
1732
1733
1734
1735
1736
1737
1738
1739
1740
1741
1742
1743
1744
1745
1746
1747
1748
1749
1750
1751
1752
1753
1754
1755
1756
1757
1758
1759
1760
1761
1762
1763
1764
1765
1766
1767
1768
1769
1770
1771
1772
1773
1774
1775
1776
1777
1778
1779
1780
1781
1782
1783
1784
1785
1786
1787
1788
1789
1790
1791
1792
1793
1794
1795
1796
1797
1798
1799
1800
1801
1802
1803
1804
1805
1806
1807
1808
1809
1810
1811
1812
1813
1814
1815
1816
1817
1818
1819
1820
1821
1822
1823
1824
1825
1826
1827
1828
1829
1830
1831
1832
1833
1834
1835
1836
1837
1838
1839
1840
1841
1842
1843
1844
1845
1846
1847
1848
1849
1850
1851
1852
1853
1854
1855
1856
1857
1858
1859
1860
1861
1862
1863
1864
1865
1866
1867
1868
1869
1870
1871
1872
1873
1874
1875
1876
1877
1878
1879
1880
1881
1882
1883
1884
1885
1886
1887
1888
1889
1890
1891
1892
1893
1894
1895
1896
1897
1898
1899
1900
1901
1902
1903
1904
1905
1906
1907
1908
1909
1910
1911
1912
1913
1914
1915
1916
1917
1918
1919
1920
1921
1922
1923
1924
1925
1926
1927
1928
1929
1930
1931
1932
1933
1934
1935
1936
1937
1938
1939
1940
1941
1942
1943
1944
1945
1946
1947
1948
1949
1950
1951
1952
1953
1954
1955
1956
1957
1958
1959
1960
1961
1962
1963
1964
1965
1966
1967
1968
1969
1970
1971
1972
1973
1974
1975
1976
1977
1978
1979
1980
1981
1982
1983
1984
1985
1986
1987
1988
1989
1990
1991
1992
1993
1994
1995
1996
1997
1998
1999
2000
2001
2002
2003
2004
2005
2006
2007
2008
2009
2010
2011
2012
2013
2014
2015
2016
2017
2018
2019
2020
2021
2022
2023
2024
2025
2026
2027
2028
2029
2030
2031
2032
2033
2034
2035
2036
2037
2038
2039
2040
2041
2042
2043
2044
2045
2046
2047
2048
2049
2050
2051
2052
2053
2054
2055
2056
2057
2058
2059
2060
2061
2062
2063
2064
2065
2066
2067
2068
2069
2070
2071
2072
2073
2074
2075
2076
2077
2078
2079
2080
2081
2082
2083
2084
2085
2086
2087
2088
2089
2090
2091
2092
2093
2094
2095
2096
2097
2098
2099
2100
2101
2102
2103
2104
2105
2106
2107
2108
2109
2110
2111
2112
2113
2114
2115
2116
2117
2118
2119
2120
2121
2122
2123
2124
2125
2126
2127
2128
2129
2130
2131
2132
2133
2134
2135
2136
2137
2138
2139
2140
2141
2142
2143
2144
2145
2146
2147
2148
2149
2150
2151
2152
2153
2154
2155
2156
2157
2158
2159
2160
2161
2162
2163
2164
2165
2166
2167
2168
2169
2170
2171
2172
2173
2174
2175
2176
2177
2178
2179
2180
2181
2182
2183
2184
2185
2186
2187
2188
2189
2190
2191
2192
2193
2194
2195
2196
2197
2198
2199
2200
2201
2202
2203
2204
2205
2206
2207
2208
2209
2210
2211
2212
2213
2214
2215
2216
2217
2218
2219
2220
2221
2222
2223
2224
2225
2226
2227
2228
2229
2230
2231
2232
2233
2234
2235
2236
2237
2238
2239
2240
2241
2242
2243
2244
2245
2246
2247
2248
2249
2250
2251
2252
2253
2254
2255
2256
2257
2258
2259
2260
2261
2262
2263
2264
2265
2266
2267
2268
2269
2270
2271
2272
2273
2274
2275
2276
2277
2278
2279
2280
2281
2282
2283
2284
2285
2286
2287
2288
2289
2290
2291
2292
2293
2294
2295
2296
2297
2298
2299
2300
2301
2302
2303
2304
2305
2306
2307
2308
2309
2310
2311
2312
2313
2314
2315
2316
2317
2318
2319
2320
2321
2322
2323
2324
2325
2326
2327
2328
2329
2330
2331
2332
2333
2334
2335
2336
2337
2338
2339
2340
2341
2342
2343
2344
2345
2346
2347
2348
2349
2350
2351
2352
2353
2354
2355
2356
2357
2358
2359
2360
2361
2362
2363
2364
2365
2366
2367
2368
2369
2370
2371
2372
2373
2374
2375
2376
2377
2378
2379
2380
2381
2382
2383
2384
2385
2386
2387
2388
2389
2390
2391
2392
2393
2394
2395
2396
2397
2398
2399
2400
2401
2402
2403
2404
2405
2406
2407
2408
2409
2410
2411
2412
2413
2414
2415
2416
2417
2418
2419
2420
2421
2422
2423
2424
2425
2426
2427
2428
2429
2430
2431
2432
2433
2434
2435
2436
2437
2438
2439
2440
2441
2442
2443
2444
2445
2446
2447
2448
2449
2450
2451
2452
2453
2454
2455
2456
2457
2458
2459
2460
2461
2462
2463
2464
2465
2466
2467
2468
2469
2470
2471
2472
2473
2474
2475
2476
2477
2478
2479
2480
2481
2482
2483
2484
2485
2486
2487
2488
2489
2490
2491
2492
2493
2494
2495
2496
2497
2498
2499
2500
2501
2502
2503
2504
2505
2506
2507
2508
2509
2510
2511
2512
2513
2514
2515
2516
2517
2518
2519
2520
2521
2522
2523
2524
2525
2526
2527
2528
2529
2530
2531
2532
2533
2534
2535
2536
2537
2538
2539
2540
2541
2542
2543
2544
2545
2546
2547
2548
2549
2550
2551
2552
2553
2554
2555
2556
2557
2558
2559
2560
2561
2562
2563
2564
2565
2566
2567
2568
2569
2570
2571
2572
2573
2574
2575
2576
2577
2578
2579
2580
2581
2582
2583
2584
2585
2586
2587
2588
2589
2590
2591
2592
2593
2594
2595
2596
2597
2598
2599
2600
2601
2602
2603
2604
2605
2606
2607
2608
2609
2610
2611
2612
2613
2614
2615
2616
2617
2618
2619
2620
2621
2622
2623
2624
2625
2626
2627
2628
2629
2630
2631
2632
2633
2634
2635
2636
2637
2638
2639
2640
2641
2642
2643
2644
2645
2646
2647
2648
2649
2650
2651
2652
2653
2654
2655
2656
2657
2658
2659
2660
2661
2662
2663
2664
2665
2666
2667
2668
2669
2670
2671
2672
2673
2674
2675
2676
2677
2678
2679
2680
2681
2682
2683
2684
2685
2686
2687
2688
2689
2690
2691
2692
2693
2694
2695
2696
2697
2698
2699
2700
2701
2702
2703
2704
2705
2706
2707
2708
2709
2710
2711
2712
2713
2714
2715
2716
2717
2718
2719
2720
2721
2722
2723
2724
2725
2726
2727
2728
2729
2730
2731
2732
2733
2734
2735
2736
2737
2738
2739
2740
2741
2742
2743
2744
2745
2746
2747
2748
2749
2750
2751
2752
2753
2754
2755
2756
2757
2758
2759
2760
2761
2762
2763
2764
2765
2766
2767
2768
2769
2770
2771
2772
2773
2774
2775
2776
2777
2778
2779
2780
2781
2782
2783
2784
2785
2786
2787
2788
2789
2790
2791
2792
2793
2794
2795
2796
2797
2798
2799
2800
2801
2802
2803
2804
2805
2806
2807
2808
2809
2810
2811
2812
2813
2814
2815
2816
2817
2818
2819
2820
2821
2822
2823
2824
2825
2826
2827
2828
2829
2830
2831
2832
2833
2834
2835
2836
2837
2838
2839
2840
2841
2842
2843
2844
2845
2846
2847
2848
2849
2850
2851
2852
2853
2854
2855
2856
2857
2858
2859
2860
2861
2862
2863
2864
2865
2866
2867
2868
2869
2870
2871
2872
2873
2874
2875
2876
2877
2878
2879
2880
2881
2882
2883
2884
2885
2886
2887
2888
2889
2890
2891
2892
2893
2894
2895
2896
2897
2898
2899
2900
2901
2902
2903
2904
2905
2906
2907
2908
2909
2910
2911
2912
2913
2914
2915
2916
2917
2918
2919
2920
2921
2922
2923
2924
2925
2926
2927
2928
2929
2930
2931
2932
2933
2934
2935
2936
2937
2938
2939
2940
2941
2942
2943
2944
2945
2946
2947
2948
2949
2950
2951
2952
2953
2954
2955
2956
2957
2958
2959
2960
2961
2962
2963
2964
2965
2966
2967
2968
2969
2970
2971
2972
2973
2974
2975
2976
2977
2978
2979
2980
2981
2982
2983
2984
2985
2986
2987
2988
2989
2990
2991
2992
2993
2994
2995
2996
2997
2998
2999
3000
3001
3002
3003
3004
3005
3006
3007
3008
3009
3010
3011
3012
3013
3014
3015
3016
3017
3018
3019
3020
3021
3022
3023
3024
3025
3026
3027
3028
3029
3030
3031
3032
3033
3034
3035
3036
3037
3038
3039
3040
3041
3042
3043
3044
3045
3046
3047
3048
3049
3050
3051
3052
3053
3054
3055
3056
3057
3058
3059
3060
3061
3062
3063
3064
3065
3066
3067
3068
3069
3070
3071
3072
3073
3074
3075
3076
3077
3078
3079
3080
3081
3082
3083
3084
3085
3086
3087
3088
3089
3090
3091
3092
3093
3094
3095
3096
3097
3098
3099
3100
3101
3102
3103
3104
3105
3106
3107
3108
3109
3110
3111
3112
3113
3114
3115
3116
3117
3118
3119
3120
3121
3122
3123
3124
3125
3126
3127
3128
3129
3130
3131
3132
3133
3134
3135
3136
3137
3138
3139
3140
3141
3142
3143
3144
3145
3146
3147
3148
3149
3150
3151
3152
3153
3154
3155
3156
3157
3158
3159
3160
3161
3162
3163
3164
3165
3166
3167
3168
3169
3170
3171
3172
3173
3174
3175
3176
3177
3178
3179
3180
3181
3182
3183
3184
3185
3186
3187
3188
3189
3190
3191
3192
3193
3194
3195
3196
3197
3198
3199
3200
3201
3202
3203
3204
3205
3206
3207
3208
3209
3210
3211
3212
3213
3214
3215
3216
3217
3218
3219
3220
3221
3222
3223
3224
3225
3226
3227
3228
3229
3230
3231
3232
3233
3234
3235
3236
3237
3238
3239
3240
3241
3242
3243
3244
3245
3246
3247
3248
3249
3250
3251
3252
3253
3254
3255
3256
3257
3258
3259
3260
3261
3262
3263
3264
3265
3266
3267
3268
3269
3270
3271
3272
3273
3274
3275
3276
3277
3278
3279
3280
3281
3282
3283
3284
3285
3286
3287
3288
3289
3290
3291
3292
3293
3294
3295
3296
3297
3298
3299
3300
3301
3302
3303
3304
3305
3306
3307
3308
3309
3310
3311
3312
3313
3314
3315
3316
3317
3318
3319
3320
3321
3322
3323
3324
3325
3326
3327
3328
3329
3330
3331
3332
3333
3334
3335
3336
3337
3338
3339
3340
3341
3342
3343
3344
3345
3346
3347
3348
3349
3350
3351
3352
3353
3354
3355
3356
3357
3358
3359
3360
3361
3362
3363
3364
3365
3366
3367
3368
3369
3370
3371
3372
3373
3374
3375
3376
3377
3378
3379
3380
3381
3382
3383
3384
3385
3386
3387
3388
3389
3390
3391
3392
3393
3394
3395
3396
3397
3398
3399
3400
3401
3402
3403
3404
3405
3406
3407
3408
3409
3410
3411
3412
3413
3414
3415
3416
3417
3418
3419
3420
3421
3422
3423
3424
3425
3426
3427
3428
3429
3430
3431
3432
3433
3434
3435
3436
3437
3438
3439
3440
3441
3442
3443
3444
3445
3446
3447
3448
3449
3450
3451
3452
3453
3454
3455
3456
3457
3458
3459
3460
3461
3462
3463
3464
3465
3466
3467
3468
3469
3470
3471
3472
3473
3474
3475
3476
3477
3478
3479
3480
3481
3482
3483
3484
3485
3486
3487
3488
3489
3490
3491
3492
3493
3494
3495
3496
3497
3498
3499
3500
3501
3502
3503
3504
3505
3506
3507
3508
3509
3510
3511
3512
3513
3514
3515
3516
3517
3518
3519
3520
3521
3522
3523
3524
3525
3526
3527
3528
3529
3530
3531
3532
3533
3534
3535
3536
3537
3538
3539
3540
3541
3542
3543
3544
3545
3546
3547
3548
3549
3550
3551
3552
3553
3554
3555
3556
3557
3558
3559
3560
3561
3562
3563
3564
3565
3566
3567
3568
3569
3570
3571
3572
3573
3574
3575
3576
3577
3578
3579
3580
3581
3582
3583
3584
3585
3586
3587
3588
3589
3590
3591
3592
3593
3594
3595
3596
3597
3598
3599
3600
3601
3602
3603
3604
3605
3606
3607
3608
3609
3610
3611
3612
3613
3614
3615
3616
3617
3618
3619
3620
3621
3622
3623
3624
3625
3626
3627
3628
3629
3630
3631
3632
3633
3634
3635
3636
3637
3638
3639
3640
3641
3642
3643
3644
3645
3646
3647
3648
3649
3650
3651
3652
3653
3654
3655
3656
3657
3658
3659
3660
3661
3662
3663
3664
3665
3666
3667
3668
3669
3670
3671
3672
3673
3674
3675
3676
3677
3678
3679
3680
3681
3682
3683
3684
3685
3686
3687
3688
3689
3690
3691
3692
3693
3694
3695
3696
3697
3698
3699
3700
3701
3702
3703
3704
3705
3706
3707
3708
3709
3710
3711
3712
3713
3714
3715
3716
3717
3718
3719
3720
3721
3722
3723
3724
3725
3726
3727
3728
3729
3730
3731
3732
3733
3734
3735
3736
3737
3738
3739
3740
3741
3742
3743
3744
3745
3746
3747
3748
3749
3750
3751
3752
3753
3754
3755
3756
3757
3758
3759
3760
3761
3762
3763
3764
3765
3766
3767
3768
3769
3770
3771
3772
3773
3774
3775
3776
3777
3778
3779
3780
3781
3782
3783
3784
3785
3786
3787
3788
3789
3790
3791
3792
3793
3794
3795
3796
3797
3798
3799
3800
3801
3802
3803
3804
3805
3806
3807
3808
3809
3810
3811
3812
3813
3814
3815
3816
3817
3818
3819
3820
3821
3822
3823
3824
3825
3826
3827
3828
3829
3830
3831
3832
3833
3834
3835
3836
3837
3838
3839
3840
3841
3842
3843
3844
3845
3846
3847
3848
3849
3850
3851
3852
3853
3854
3855
3856
3857
3858
3859
3860
3861
3862
3863
3864
3865
3866
3867
3868
3869
3870
3871
3872
3873
3874
3875
3876
3877
3878
3879
3880
3881
3882
3883
3884
3885
3886
3887
3888
3889
3890
3891
3892
3893
3894
3895
3896
3897
3898
3899
3900
3901
3902
3903
3904
3905
3906
3907
3908
3909
3910
3911
3912
3913
3914
3915
3916
3917
3918
3919
3920
3921
3922
3923
3924
3925
3926
3927
3928
3929
3930
3931
3932
3933
3934
3935
3936
3937
3938
3939
3940
3941
3942
3943
3944
3945
3946
3947
3948
3949
3950
3951
3952
3953
3954
3955
3956
3957
3958
3959
3960
3961
3962
3963
3964
3965
3966
3967
3968
3969
3970
3971
3972
3973
3974
3975
3976
3977
3978
3979
3980
3981
3982
3983
3984
3985
3986
3987
3988
3989
3990
3991
3992
3993
3994
3995
3996
3997
3998
3999
4000
4001
4002
4003
4004
4005
4006
4007
4008
4009
4010
4011
4012
4013
4014
4015
4016
4017
4018
4019
4020
4021
4022
4023
4024
4025
4026
4027
4028
4029
4030
4031
4032
4033
4034
4035
4036
4037
4038
4039
4040
4041
4042
4043
4044
4045
4046
4047
4048
4049
4050
4051
4052
4053
4054
4055
4056
4057
4058
4059
4060
4061
4062
4063
4064
4065
4066
4067
4068
4069
4070
4071
4072
4073
4074
4075
4076
4077
4078
4079
4080
4081
4082
4083
4084
4085
4086
4087
4088
4089
4090
4091
4092
4093
4094
4095
4096
4097
4098
4099
4100
4101
4102
4103
4104
4105
4106
4107
4108
4109
4110
4111
4112
4113
4114
4115
4116
4117
4118
4119
4120
4121
4122
4123
4124
4125
4126
4127
4128
4129
4130
4131
4132
4133
4134
4135
4136
4137
4138
4139
4140
4141
4142
4143
4144
4145
4146
4147
4148
4149
4150
4151
4152
4153
4154
4155
4156
4157
4158
4159
4160
4161
4162
4163
4164
4165
4166
4167
4168
4169
4170
4171
4172
4173
4174
4175
4176
4177
4178
4179
4180
4181
4182
4183
4184
4185
4186
4187
4188
4189
4190
4191
4192
4193
4194
4195
4196
4197
4198
4199
4200
4201
4202
4203
4204
4205
4206
4207
4208
4209
4210
4211
4212
4213
4214
4215
4216
4217
4218
4219
4220
4221
4222
4223
4224
4225
4226
4227
4228
4229
4230
4231
4232
4233
4234
4235
4236
4237
4238
4239
4240
4241
4242
4243
4244
4245
4246
4247
4248
4249
4250
4251
4252
4253
4254
4255
4256
4257
4258
4259
4260
4261
4262
4263
4264
4265
4266
4267
4268
4269
4270
4271
4272
4273
4274
4275
4276
4277
4278
4279
4280
4281
4282
4283
4284
4285
4286
4287
4288
4289
4290
4291
4292
4293
4294
4295
4296
4297
4298
4299
4300
4301
4302
4303
4304
4305
4306
4307
4308
4309
4310
4311
4312
4313
4314
4315
4316
4317
4318
4319
4320
4321
4322
4323
4324
4325
4326
4327
4328
4329
4330
4331
4332
4333
4334
4335
4336
4337
4338
4339
4340
4341
4342
4343
4344
4345
4346
4347
4348
4349
4350
4351
4352
4353
4354
4355
4356
4357
4358
4359
4360
4361
4362
4363
4364
4365
4366
4367
4368
4369
4370
4371
4372
4373
4374
4375
4376
4377
4378
4379
4380
4381
4382
4383
4384
4385
4386
4387
4388
4389
4390
4391
4392
4393
4394
4395
4396
4397
4398
4399
4400
4401
4402
4403
4404
4405
4406
4407
4408
4409
4410
4411
4412
4413
4414
4415
4416
4417
4418
4419
4420
4421
4422
4423
4424
4425
4426
4427
4428
4429
4430
4431
4432
4433
4434
4435
4436
4437
4438
4439
4440
4441
4442
4443
4444
4445
4446
4447
4448
4449
4450
4451
4452
4453
4454
4455
4456
4457
4458
4459
4460
4461
4462
4463
4464
4465
4466
4467
4468
4469
4470
4471
4472
4473
4474
4475
4476
4477
4478
4479
4480
4481
4482
4483
4484
4485
4486
4487
4488
4489
4490
4491
4492
4493
4494
4495
4496
4497
4498
4499
4500
4501
4502
4503
4504
4505
4506
4507
4508
4509
4510
4511
4512
4513
4514
4515
4516
4517
4518
4519
4520
4521
4522
4523
4524
4525
4526
4527
4528
4529
4530
4531
4532
4533
4534
4535
4536
4537
4538
4539
4540
4541
4542
4543
4544
4545
4546
4547
4548
4549
4550
4551
4552
4553
4554
4555
4556
4557
4558
4559
4560
4561
4562
4563
4564
4565
4566
4567
4568
4569
4570
4571
4572
4573
4574
4575
4576
4577
4578
4579
4580
4581
4582
4583
4584
4585
4586
4587
4588
4589
4590
4591
4592
4593
4594
4595
4596
4597
4598
4599
4600
4601
4602
4603
4604
4605
4606
4607
4608
4609
4610
4611
4612
4613
4614
4615
4616
4617
4618
4619
4620
4621
4622
4623
4624
4625
4626
4627
4628
4629
4630
4631
4632
4633
4634
4635
4636
4637
4638
4639
4640
4641
4642
4643
4644
4645
4646
4647
4648
4649
4650
4651
4652
4653
4654
4655
4656
4657
4658
4659
4660
4661
4662
4663
4664
4665
4666
4667
4668
4669
4670
4671
4672
4673
4674
4675
4676
4677
4678
4679
4680
4681
4682
4683
4684
4685
4686
4687
4688
4689
4690
4691
4692
4693
4694
4695
4696
4697
4698
4699
4700
4701
4702
4703
4704
4705
4706
4707
4708
4709
4710
4711
4712
4713
4714
4715
4716
4717
4718
4719
4720
4721
4722
4723
4724
4725
4726
4727
4728
4729
4730
4731
4732
4733
4734
4735
4736
4737
4738
4739
4740
4741
4742
4743
4744
4745
4746
4747
4748
4749
4750
4751
4752
4753
4754
4755
4756
4757
4758
4759
4760
4761
4762
4763
4764
4765
4766
4767
4768
4769
4770
4771
4772
4773
4774
4775
4776
4777
4778
4779
4780
4781
4782
4783
4784
4785
4786
4787
4788
4789
4790
4791
4792
4793
4794
4795
4796
4797
4798
4799
4800
4801
4802
4803
4804
4805
4806
4807
4808
4809
4810
4811
4812
4813
4814
4815
4816
4817
4818
4819
4820
4821
4822
4823
4824
4825
4826
4827
4828
4829
4830
4831
4832
4833
4834
4835
4836
4837
4838
4839
4840
4841
4842
4843
4844
4845
4846
4847
4848
4849
4850
4851
4852
4853
4854
4855
4856
4857
4858
4859
4860
4861
4862
4863
4864
4865
4866
4867
4868
4869
4870
4871
4872
4873
4874
4875
4876
4877
4878
4879
4880
4881
4882
4883
4884
4885
4886
4887
4888
4889
4890
4891
4892
4893
4894
4895
4896
4897
4898
4899
4900
4901
4902
4903
4904
4905
4906
4907
4908
4909
4910
4911
4912
4913
4914
4915
4916
4917
4918
4919
4920
4921
4922
4923
4924
4925
4926
4927
4928
4929
4930
4931
4932
4933
4934
4935
4936
4937
4938
4939
4940
4941
4942
4943
4944
4945
4946
4947
4948
4949
4950
4951
4952
4953
4954
4955
4956
4957
4958
4959
4960
4961
4962
4963
4964
4965
4966
4967
4968
4969
4970
4971
4972
4973
4974
4975
4976
4977
4978
4979
4980
4981
4982
4983
4984
4985
4986
4987
4988
4989
4990
4991
4992
4993
4994
4995
4996
4997
4998
4999
5000
5001
5002
5003
5004
5005
5006
5007
5008
5009
5010
5011
5012
5013
5014
5015
5016
5017
5018
5019
5020
5021
5022
5023
5024
5025
5026
5027
5028
5029
5030
5031
5032
5033
5034
5035
5036
5037
5038
5039
5040
5041
5042
5043
5044
5045
5046
5047
5048
5049
5050
5051
5052
5053
5054
5055
5056
5057
5058
5059
5060
5061
5062
5063
5064
5065
5066
5067
5068
5069
5070
5071
5072
5073
5074
5075
5076
5077
5078
5079
5080
5081
5082
5083
5084
5085
5086
5087
5088
5089
5090
5091
5092
5093
5094
5095
5096
5097
5098
5099
5100
5101
5102
5103
5104
5105
5106
5107
5108
5109
5110
5111
5112
5113
5114
5115
5116
5117
5118
5119
5120
5121
5122
5123
5124
5125
5126
5127
5128
5129
5130
5131
5132
5133
5134
5135
5136
5137
5138
5139
5140
5141
5142
5143
5144
5145
5146
5147
5148
5149
5150
5151
5152
5153
5154
5155
5156
5157
5158
5159
5160
5161
5162
5163
5164
5165
5166
5167
5168
5169
5170
5171
5172
5173
5174
5175
5176
5177
5178
5179
5180
5181
5182
5183
5184
5185
5186
5187
5188
5189
5190
5191
5192
5193
5194
5195
5196
5197
5198
5199
5200
5201
5202
5203
5204
5205
5206
5207
5208
5209
5210
5211
5212
5213
5214
5215
5216
5217
5218
5219
5220
5221
5222
5223
5224
5225
5226
5227
5228
5229
5230
5231
5232
5233
5234
5235
5236
5237
5238
5239
5240
5241
5242
5243
5244
5245
5246
5247
5248
5249
5250
5251
5252
5253
5254
5255
5256
5257
5258
5259
5260
5261
5262
5263
5264
5265
5266
5267
5268
5269
5270
5271
5272
5273
5274
5275
5276
5277
5278
5279
5280
5281
5282
5283
5284
5285
5286
5287
5288
5289
5290
5291
5292
5293
5294
5295
5296
5297
5298
5299
5300
5301
5302
5303
5304
5305
5306
5307
5308
5309
5310
5311
5312
5313
5314
5315
5316
5317
5318
5319
5320
5321
5322
5323
5324
5325
5326
5327
5328
5329
5330
5331
5332
5333
5334
5335
5336
5337
5338
5339
5340
5341
5342
5343
5344
5345
5346
5347
5348
5349
5350
5351
5352
5353
5354
5355
5356
5357
5358
5359
5360
5361
5362
5363
5364
5365
5366
5367
5368
5369
5370
5371
5372
5373
5374
5375
5376
5377
5378
5379
5380
5381
5382
5383
5384
5385
5386
5387
5388
5389
5390
5391
5392
5393
5394
5395
5396
5397
5398
5399
5400
5401
5402
5403
5404
5405
5406
5407
5408
5409
5410
5411
5412
5413
5414
5415
5416
5417
5418
5419
5420
5421
5422
5423
5424
5425
5426
5427
5428
5429
5430
5431
5432
5433
5434
5435
5436
5437
5438
5439
5440
5441
5442
5443
5444
5445
5446
5447
5448
5449
5450
5451
5452
5453
5454
5455
5456
5457
5458
5459
5460
5461
5462
5463
5464
5465
5466
5467
5468
5469
5470
5471
5472
5473
5474
5475
5476
5477
5478
5479
5480
5481
5482
5483
5484
5485
5486
5487
5488
5489
5490
5491
5492
5493
5494
5495
5496
5497
5498
5499
5500
5501
5502
5503
5504
5505
5506
5507
5508
5509
5510
5511
5512
5513
5514
5515
5516
5517
5518
5519
5520
5521
5522
5523
5524
5525
5526
5527
5528
5529
5530
5531
5532
5533
5534
5535
5536
5537
5538
5539
5540
5541
5542
5543
5544
5545
5546
5547
5548
5549
5550
5551
5552
5553
5554
5555
5556
5557
5558
5559
5560
5561
5562
5563
5564
5565
5566
5567
5568
5569
5570
5571
5572
5573
5574
5575
5576
5577
5578
5579
5580
5581
5582
5583
5584
5585
5586
5587
5588
5589
5590
5591
5592
5593
5594
5595
5596
5597
5598
5599
5600
5601
5602
5603
5604
5605
5606
5607
5608
5609
5610
5611
5612
5613
5614
5615
5616
5617
5618
5619
5620
5621
5622
5623
5624
5625
5626
5627
5628
5629
5630
5631
5632
5633
5634
5635
5636
5637
5638
5639
5640
5641
5642
5643
5644
5645
5646
5647
5648
5649
5650
5651
5652
5653
5654
5655
5656
5657
5658
5659
5660
5661
5662
5663
5664
5665
5666
5667
5668
5669
5670
5671
5672
5673
5674
5675
5676
5677
5678
5679
5680
5681
5682
5683
5684
5685
5686
5687
5688
5689
5690
5691
5692
5693
5694
5695
5696
5697
5698
5699
5700
5701
5702
5703
5704
5705
5706
5707
5708
5709
5710
5711
5712
5713
5714
5715
5716
5717
5718
5719
5720
5721
5722
5723
5724
5725
5726
5727
5728
5729
5730
5731
5732
5733
5734
5735
5736
5737
5738
5739
5740
5741
5742
5743
5744
5745
5746
5747
5748
5749
5750
5751
5752
5753
5754
5755
5756
5757
5758
5759
5760
5761
5762
5763
5764
5765
5766
5767
5768
5769
5770
5771
5772
5773
5774
5775
5776
5777
5778
5779
5780
5781
5782
5783
5784
5785
5786
5787
5788
5789
5790
5791
5792
5793
5794
5795
5796
5797
5798
5799
5800
5801
5802
5803
5804
5805
5806
5807
5808
5809
5810
5811
5812
5813
5814
5815
5816
5817
5818
5819
5820
5821
5822
5823
5824
5825
5826
5827
5828
5829
5830
5831
5832
5833
5834
5835
5836
5837
5838
5839
5840
5841
5842
5843
5844
5845
5846
5847
5848
5849
5850
5851
5852
5853
5854
5855
5856
5857
5858
5859
5860
5861
5862
5863
5864
5865
5866
5867
5868
5869
5870
5871
5872
5873
5874
5875
5876
5877
5878
5879
5880
5881
5882
5883
5884
5885
5886
5887
5888
5889
5890
5891
5892
5893
5894
5895
5896
5897
5898
5899
5900
5901
5902
5903
5904
5905
5906
5907
5908
5909
5910
5911
5912
5913
5914
5915
5916
5917
5918
5919
5920
5921
5922
5923
5924
5925
5926
5927
5928
5929
5930
5931
5932
5933
5934
5935
5936
5937
5938
5939
5940
5941
5942
5943
5944
5945
5946
5947
5948
5949
5950
5951
5952
5953
5954
5955
5956
5957
5958
5959
5960
5961
5962
5963
5964
5965
5966
5967
5968
5969
5970
5971
5972
5973
5974
5975
5976
5977
5978
5979
5980
5981
5982
5983
5984
5985
5986
5987
5988
5989
5990
5991
5992
5993
5994
5995
5996
5997
5998
5999
6000
6001
6002
6003
6004
6005
6006
6007
6008
6009
6010
6011
6012
6013
6014
6015
6016
6017
6018
6019
6020
6021
6022
6023
6024
6025
6026
6027
6028
6029
6030
6031
6032
6033
6034
6035
6036
6037
6038
6039
6040
6041
6042
6043
6044
6045
6046
6047
6048
6049
6050
6051
6052
6053
6054
6055
6056
6057
6058
6059
6060
6061
6062
6063
6064
6065
6066
6067
6068
6069
6070
6071
6072
6073
6074
6075
6076
6077
6078
6079
6080
6081
6082
6083
6084
6085
6086
6087
6088
6089
6090
6091
6092
6093
6094
6095
6096
6097
6098
6099
6100
6101
6102
6103
6104
6105
6106
6107
6108
6109
6110
6111
6112
6113
6114
6115
6116
6117
6118
6119
6120
6121
6122
6123
6124
6125
6126
6127
6128
6129
6130
6131
6132
6133
6134
6135
6136
6137
6138
6139
6140
6141
6142
6143
6144
6145
6146
6147
6148
6149
6150
6151
6152
6153
6154
6155
6156
6157
6158
6159
6160
6161
6162
6163
6164
6165
6166
6167
6168
6169
6170
6171
6172
6173
6174
6175
6176
6177
6178
6179
6180
6181
6182
6183
6184
6185
6186
6187
6188
6189
6190
6191
6192
6193
6194
6195
6196
6197
6198
6199
6200
6201
6202
6203
6204
6205
6206
6207
6208
6209
6210
6211
6212
6213
6214
6215
6216
6217
6218
6219
6220
6221
6222
6223
6224
6225
6226
6227
6228
6229
6230
6231
6232
6233
6234
6235
6236
6237
6238
6239
6240
6241
6242
6243
6244
6245
6246
6247
6248
6249
6250
6251
6252
6253
6254
6255
6256
6257
6258
6259
6260
6261
6262
6263
6264
6265
6266
6267
6268
6269
6270
6271
6272
6273
6274
6275
6276
6277
6278
6279
6280
6281
6282
6283
6284
6285
6286
6287
6288
6289
6290
6291
6292
6293
6294
6295
6296
6297
6298
6299
6300
6301
6302
6303
6304
6305
6306
6307
6308
6309
6310
6311
6312
6313
6314
6315
6316
6317
6318
6319
6320
6321
6322
6323
6324
6325
6326
6327
6328
6329
6330
6331
6332
6333
6334
6335
6336
6337
6338
6339
6340
6341
6342
6343
6344
6345
6346
6347
6348
6349
6350
6351
6352
6353
6354
6355
6356
6357
6358
6359
6360
6361
6362
6363
6364
6365
6366
6367
6368
6369
6370
6371
6372
6373
6374
6375
6376
6377
6378
6379
6380
6381
6382
6383
6384
6385
6386
6387
6388
6389
6390
6391
6392
6393
6394
6395
6396
6397
6398
6399
6400
6401
6402
6403
6404
6405
6406
6407
6408
6409
6410
6411
6412
6413
6414
6415
6416
6417
6418
6419
6420
6421
6422
6423
6424
6425
6426
6427
6428
6429
6430
6431
6432
6433
6434
6435
6436
6437
6438
6439
6440
6441
6442
6443
6444
6445
6446
6447
6448
6449
6450
6451
6452
6453
6454
6455
6456
6457
6458
6459
6460
6461
6462
6463
6464
6465
6466
6467
6468
6469
6470
6471
6472
6473
6474
6475
6476
6477
6478
6479
6480
6481
6482
6483
6484
6485
6486
6487
6488
6489
6490
6491
6492
6493
6494
6495
6496
6497
6498
6499
6500
6501
6502
6503
6504
6505
6506
6507
6508
6509
6510
6511
6512
6513
6514
6515
6516
6517
6518
6519
6520
6521
6522
6523
6524
6525
6526
6527
6528
6529
6530
6531
6532
6533
6534
6535
6536
6537
6538
6539
6540
6541
6542
6543
6544
6545
6546
6547
6548
6549
6550
6551
6552
6553
6554
6555
6556
6557
6558
6559
6560
6561
6562
6563
6564
6565
6566
6567
6568
6569
6570
6571
6572
6573
6574
6575
6576
6577
6578
6579
6580
6581
6582
6583
6584
6585
6586
6587
6588
6589
6590
6591
6592
6593
6594
6595
6596
6597
6598
6599
6600
6601
6602
6603
6604
6605
6606
6607
6608
6609
6610
6611
6612
6613
6614
6615
6616
6617
6618
6619
6620
6621
6622
6623
6624
6625
6626
6627
6628
6629
6630
6631
6632
6633
6634
6635
6636
6637
6638
6639
6640
6641
6642
6643
6644
6645
6646
6647
6648
6649
6650
6651
6652
6653
6654
6655
6656
6657
6658
6659
6660
6661
6662
6663
6664
6665
6666
6667
6668
6669
6670
6671
6672
6673
6674
6675
6676
6677
6678
6679
6680
6681
6682
6683
6684
6685
6686
6687
6688
6689
6690
6691
6692
6693
6694
6695
6696
6697
6698
6699
6700
6701
6702
6703
6704
6705
6706
6707
6708
6709
6710
6711
6712
6713
6714
6715
6716
6717
6718
6719
6720
6721
6722
6723
6724
6725
6726
6727
6728
6729
6730
6731
6732
6733
6734
6735
6736
6737
6738
6739
6740
6741
6742
6743
6744
6745
6746
6747
6748
6749
6750
6751
6752
6753
6754
6755
6756
6757
6758
6759
6760
6761
6762
6763
6764
6765
6766
6767
6768
6769
6770
6771
6772
6773
6774
6775
6776
6777
6778
6779
6780
6781
6782
6783
6784
6785
6786
6787
6788
6789
6790
6791
6792
6793
6794
6795
6796
6797
6798
6799
6800
6801
6802
6803
6804
6805
6806
6807
6808
6809
6810
6811
6812
6813
6814
6815
6816
6817
6818
6819
6820
6821
6822
6823
6824
6825
6826
6827
6828
6829
6830
6831
6832
6833
6834
6835
6836
6837
6838
6839
6840
6841
6842
6843
6844
6845
6846
6847
6848
6849
6850
6851
6852
6853
6854
6855
6856
6857
6858
6859
6860
6861
6862
6863
6864
6865
6866
6867
6868
6869
6870
6871
6872
6873
6874
6875
6876
6877
6878
6879
6880
6881
6882
6883
6884
6885
6886
6887
6888
6889
6890
6891
6892
6893
6894
6895
6896
6897
6898
6899
6900
6901
6902
6903
6904
6905
6906
6907
6908
6909
6910
6911
6912
6913
6914
6915
6916
6917
6918
6919
6920
6921
6922
6923
6924
6925
6926
6927
6928
6929
6930
6931
6932
6933
6934
6935
6936
6937
6938
6939
6940
6941
6942
6943
6944
6945
6946
6947
6948
6949
6950
6951
6952
6953
6954
6955
6956
6957
6958
6959
6960
6961
6962
6963
6964
6965
6966
6967
6968
6969
6970
6971
6972
6973
6974
6975
6976
6977
6978
6979
6980
6981
6982
6983
6984
6985
6986
6987
6988
6989
6990
6991
6992
6993
6994
6995
6996
6997
6998
6999
7000
7001
7002
7003
7004
7005
7006
7007
7008
7009
7010
7011
7012
7013
7014
7015
7016
7017
7018
7019
7020
7021
7022
7023
7024
7025
7026
7027
7028
7029
7030
7031
7032
7033
7034
7035
7036
7037
7038
7039
7040
7041
7042
7043
7044
7045
7046
7047
7048
7049
7050
7051
7052
7053
7054
7055
7056
7057
7058
7059
7060
7061
7062
7063
7064
7065
7066
7067
7068
7069
7070
7071
7072
7073
7074
7075
7076
7077
7078
7079
7080
7081
7082
7083
7084
7085
7086
7087
7088
7089
7090
7091
7092
7093
7094
7095
7096
7097
7098
7099
7100
7101
7102
7103
7104
7105
7106
7107
7108
7109
7110
7111
7112
7113
7114
7115
7116
7117
7118
7119
7120
7121
7122
7123
7124
7125
7126
7127
7128
7129
7130
7131
7132
7133
7134
7135
7136
7137
7138
7139
7140
7141
7142
7143
7144
7145
7146
7147
7148
7149
7150
7151
7152
7153
7154
7155
7156
7157
7158
7159
7160
7161
7162
7163
7164
7165
7166
7167
7168
7169
7170
7171
7172
7173
7174
7175
7176
7177
7178
7179
7180
7181
7182
7183
7184
7185
7186
7187
7188
7189
7190
7191
7192
7193
7194
7195
7196
7197
7198
7199
7200
7201
7202
7203
7204
7205
7206
7207
7208
7209
7210
7211
7212
7213
7214
7215
7216
7217
7218
7219
7220
7221
7222
7223
7224
7225
7226
7227
7228
7229
7230
7231
7232
7233
7234
7235
7236
7237
7238
7239
7240
7241
7242
7243
7244
7245
7246
7247
7248
7249
7250
7251
7252
7253
7254
7255
7256
7257
7258
7259
7260
7261
7262
7263
7264
7265
7266
7267
7268
7269
7270
7271
7272
7273
7274
7275
7276
7277
7278
7279
7280
7281
7282
7283
7284
7285
7286
7287
7288
7289
7290
7291
7292
7293
7294
7295
7296
7297
7298
7299
7300
7301
7302
7303
7304
7305
7306
7307
7308
7309
7310
7311
7312
7313
7314
7315
7316
7317
7318
7319
7320
7321
7322
7323
7324
7325
7326
7327
7328
7329
7330
7331
7332
7333
7334
7335
7336
7337
7338
7339
7340
7341
7342
7343
7344
7345
7346
7347
7348
7349
7350
7351
7352
7353
7354
7355
7356
7357
7358
7359
7360
7361
7362
7363
7364
7365
7366
7367
7368
7369
7370
7371
7372
7373
7374
7375
7376
7377
7378
7379
7380
7381
7382
7383
7384
7385
7386
7387
7388
7389
7390
7391
7392
7393
7394
7395
7396
7397
7398
7399
7400
7401
7402
7403
7404
7405
7406
7407
7408
7409
7410
7411
7412
7413
7414
7415
7416
7417
7418
7419
7420
7421
7422
7423
7424
7425
7426
7427
7428
7429
7430
7431
7432
7433
7434
7435
7436
7437
7438
7439
7440
7441
7442
7443
7444
7445
7446
7447
7448
7449
7450
7451
7452
7453
7454
7455
7456
7457
7458
7459
7460
7461
7462
7463
7464
7465
7466
7467
7468
7469
7470
7471
7472
7473
7474
7475
7476
7477
7478
7479
7480
7481
7482
7483
7484
7485
7486
7487
7488
7489
7490
7491
7492
7493
7494
7495
7496
7497
7498
7499
7500
7501
7502
7503
7504
7505
7506
7507
7508
7509
7510
7511
7512
7513
7514
7515
7516
7517
7518
7519
7520
7521
7522
7523
7524
7525
7526
7527
7528
7529
7530
7531
7532
7533
7534
7535
7536
7537
7538
7539
7540
7541
7542
7543
7544
7545
7546
7547
7548
7549
7550
7551
7552
7553
7554
7555
7556
7557
7558
7559
7560
7561
7562
7563
7564
7565
7566
7567
7568
7569
7570
7571
7572
7573
7574
7575
7576
7577
7578
7579
7580
7581
7582
7583
7584
7585
7586
7587
7588
7589
7590
7591
7592
7593
7594
7595
7596
7597
7598
7599
7600
7601
7602
7603
7604
7605
7606
7607
7608
7609
7610
7611
7612
7613
7614
7615
7616
7617
7618
7619
7620
7621
7622
7623
7624
7625
7626
7627
7628
7629
7630
7631
7632
7633
7634
7635
7636
7637
7638
7639
7640
7641
7642
7643
7644
7645
7646
7647
7648
7649
7650
7651
7652
7653
7654
7655
7656
7657
7658
7659
7660
7661
7662
7663
7664
7665
7666
7667
7668
7669
7670
7671
7672
7673
7674
7675
7676
7677
7678
7679
7680
7681
7682
7683
7684
7685
7686
7687
7688
7689
7690
7691
7692
7693
7694
7695
7696
7697
7698
7699
7700
7701
7702
7703
7704
7705
7706
7707
7708
7709
7710
7711
7712
7713
7714
7715
7716
7717
7718
7719
7720
7721
7722
7723
7724
7725
7726
7727
7728
7729
7730
7731
7732
7733
7734
7735
7736
7737
7738
7739
7740
7741
7742
7743
7744
7745
7746
7747
7748
7749
7750
7751
7752
7753
7754
7755
7756
7757
7758
7759
7760
7761
7762
7763
7764
7765
7766
7767
7768
7769
7770
7771
7772
7773
7774
7775
7776
7777
7778
7779
7780
7781
7782
7783
7784
7785
7786
7787
7788
7789
7790
7791
7792
7793
7794
7795
7796
7797
7798
7799
7800
7801
7802
7803
7804
7805
7806
7807
7808
7809
7810
7811
7812
7813
7814
7815
7816
7817
7818
7819
7820
7821
7822
7823
7824
7825
7826
7827
7828
7829
7830
7831
7832
7833
7834
7835
7836
7837
7838
7839
7840
7841
7842
7843
7844
7845
7846
7847
7848
7849
7850
7851
7852
7853
7854
7855
7856
7857
7858
7859
7860
7861
7862
7863
7864
7865
7866
7867
7868
7869
7870
7871
7872
7873
7874
7875
7876
7877
7878
7879
7880
7881
7882
7883
7884
7885
7886
7887
7888
7889
7890
7891
7892
7893
7894
7895
7896
7897
7898
7899
7900
7901
7902
7903
7904
7905
7906
7907
7908
7909
7910
7911
7912
7913
7914
7915
7916
7917
7918
7919
7920
7921
7922
7923
7924
7925
7926
7927
7928
7929
7930
7931
7932
7933
7934
7935
7936
7937
7938
7939
7940
7941
7942
7943
7944
7945
7946
7947
7948
7949
7950
7951
7952
7953
7954
7955
7956
7957
7958
7959
7960
7961
7962
7963
7964
7965
7966
7967
7968
7969
7970
7971
7972
7973
7974
7975
7976
7977
7978
7979
7980
7981
7982
7983
7984
7985
7986
7987
7988
7989
7990
7991
7992
7993
7994
7995
7996
7997
7998
7999
8000
8001
8002
8003
8004
8005
8006
8007
8008
8009
8010
8011
8012
8013
8014
8015
8016
8017
8018
8019
8020
8021
8022
8023
8024
8025
8026
8027
8028
8029
8030
8031
8032
8033
8034
8035
8036
8037
8038
8039
8040
8041
8042
8043
8044
8045
8046
8047
8048
8049
8050
8051
8052
8053
8054
8055
8056
8057
8058
8059
8060
8061
8062
8063
8064
8065
8066
8067
8068
8069
8070
8071
8072
8073
8074
8075
8076
8077
8078
8079
8080
8081
8082
8083
8084
8085
8086
8087
8088
8089
8090
8091
8092
8093
8094
8095
8096
8097
8098
8099
8100
8101
8102
8103
8104
8105
8106
8107
8108
8109
8110
8111
8112
8113
8114
8115
8116
8117
8118
8119
8120
8121
8122
8123
8124
8125
8126
8127
8128
8129
8130
8131
8132
8133
8134
8135
8136
8137
8138
8139
8140
8141
8142
8143
8144
8145
8146
8147
8148
8149
8150
8151
8152
8153
8154
8155
8156
8157
8158
8159
8160
8161
8162
8163
8164
8165
8166
8167
8168
8169
8170
8171
8172
8173
8174
8175
8176
8177
8178
8179
8180
8181
8182
8183
8184
8185
8186
8187
8188
8189
8190
8191
8192
8193
8194
8195
8196
8197
8198
8199
8200
8201
8202
8203
8204
8205
8206
8207
8208
8209
8210
8211
8212
8213
8214
8215
8216
8217
8218
8219
8220
8221
8222
8223
8224
8225
8226
8227
8228
8229
8230
8231
8232
8233
8234
8235
8236
8237
8238
8239
8240
8241
8242
8243
8244
8245
8246
8247
8248
8249
8250
8251
8252
8253
8254
8255
8256
8257
8258
8259
8260
8261
8262
8263
8264
8265
8266
8267
8268
8269
8270
8271
8272
8273
8274
8275
8276
8277
8278
8279
8280
8281
8282
8283
8284
8285
8286
8287
8288
8289
8290
8291
8292
8293
8294
8295
8296
8297
8298
8299
8300
8301
8302
8303
8304
8305
8306
8307
8308
8309
8310
8311
8312
8313
8314
8315
8316
8317
8318
8319
8320
8321
8322
8323
8324
8325
8326
8327
8328
8329
8330
8331
8332
8333
8334
8335
8336
8337
8338
8339
8340
8341
8342
8343
8344
8345
8346
8347
8348
8349
8350
8351
8352
8353
8354
8355
8356
8357
8358
8359
8360
8361
8362
8363
8364
8365
8366
8367
8368
8369
8370
8371
8372
8373
8374
8375
8376
8377
8378
8379
8380
8381
8382
8383
8384
8385
8386
8387
8388
8389
8390
8391
8392
8393
8394
8395
8396
8397
8398
8399
8400
8401
8402
8403
8404
8405
8406
8407
8408
8409
8410
8411
8412
8413
8414
8415
8416
8417
8418
8419
8420
8421
8422
8423
8424
8425
8426
8427
8428
8429
8430
8431
8432
8433
8434
8435
8436
8437
8438
8439
8440
8441
8442
8443
8444
8445
8446
8447
8448
8449
8450
8451
8452
8453
8454
8455
8456
8457
8458
8459
8460
8461
8462
8463
8464
8465
8466
8467
8468
8469
8470
8471
8472
8473
8474
8475
8476
8477
8478
8479
8480
8481
8482
8483
8484
8485
8486
8487
8488
8489
8490
8491
8492
8493
8494
8495
8496
8497
8498
8499
8500
8501
8502
8503
8504
8505
8506
8507
8508
8509
8510
8511
8512
8513
8514
8515
8516
8517
8518
8519
8520
8521
8522
8523
8524
8525
8526
8527
8528
8529
8530
8531
8532
8533
8534
8535
8536
8537
8538
8539
8540
8541
8542
8543
8544
8545
8546
8547
8548
8549
8550
8551
8552
8553
8554
8555
8556
8557
8558
8559
8560
8561
8562
8563
8564
8565
8566
8567
8568
8569
8570
8571
8572
8573
8574
8575
8576
8577
8578
8579
8580
8581
8582
8583
8584
8585
8586
8587
8588
8589
8590
8591
8592
8593
8594
8595
8596
8597
8598
8599
8600
8601
8602
8603
8604
8605
8606
8607
8608
8609
8610
8611
8612
8613
8614
8615
8616
8617
8618
8619
8620
8621
8622
8623
8624
8625
8626
8627
8628
8629
8630
8631
8632
8633
8634
8635
8636
8637
8638
8639
8640
8641
8642
8643
8644
8645
8646
8647
8648
8649
8650
8651
8652
8653
8654
8655
8656
8657
8658
8659
8660
8661
8662
8663
8664
8665
8666
8667
8668
8669
8670
8671
8672
8673
8674
8675
8676
8677
8678
8679
8680
8681
8682
8683
8684
8685
8686
8687
8688
8689
8690
8691
8692
8693
8694
8695
8696
8697
8698
8699
8700
8701
8702
8703
8704
8705
8706
8707
8708
8709
8710
8711
8712
8713
8714
8715
8716
8717
8718
8719
8720
8721
8722
8723
8724
8725
8726
8727
8728
8729
8730
8731
8732
8733
8734
8735
8736
8737
8738
8739
8740
8741
8742
8743
8744
8745
8746
8747
8748
8749
8750
8751
8752
8753
8754
8755
8756
8757
8758
8759
8760
8761
8762
8763
8764
8765
8766
8767
8768
8769
8770
8771
8772
8773
8774
8775
8776
8777
8778
8779
8780
8781
8782
8783
8784
8785
8786
8787
8788
8789
8790
8791
8792
8793
8794
8795
8796
8797
8798
8799
8800
8801
8802
8803
8804
8805
8806
8807
8808
8809
8810
8811
8812
8813
8814
8815
8816
8817
8818
8819
8820
8821
8822
8823
8824
8825
8826
8827
8828
8829
8830
8831
8832
8833
8834
8835
8836
8837
8838
8839
8840
8841
8842
8843
8844
8845
8846
8847
8848
8849
8850
8851
8852
8853
8854
8855
8856
8857
8858
8859
8860
8861
8862
8863
8864
8865
8866
8867
8868
8869
8870
8871
8872
8873
8874
8875
8876
8877
8878
8879
8880
8881
8882
8883
8884
8885
8886
8887
8888
8889
8890
8891
8892
8893
8894
8895
8896
8897
8898
8899
8900
8901
8902
8903
8904
8905
8906
8907
8908
8909
8910
8911
8912
8913
8914
8915
8916
8917
8918
8919
8920
8921
8922
8923
8924
8925
8926
8927
8928
8929
8930
8931
8932
8933
8934
8935
8936
8937
8938
8939
8940
8941
8942
8943
8944
8945
8946
8947
8948
8949
8950
8951
8952
8953
8954
8955
8956
8957
8958
8959
8960
8961
8962
8963
8964
8965
8966
8967
8968
8969
8970
8971
8972
8973
8974
8975
8976
8977
8978
8979
8980
8981
8982
8983
8984
8985
8986
8987
8988
8989
8990
8991
8992
8993
8994
8995
8996
8997
8998
8999
9000
9001
9002
9003
9004
9005
9006
9007
9008
9009
9010
9011
9012
9013
9014
9015
9016
9017
9018
9019
9020
9021
9022
9023
9024
9025
9026
9027
9028
9029
9030
9031
9032
9033
9034
9035
9036
9037
9038
9039
9040
9041
9042
9043
9044
9045
9046
9047
9048
9049
9050
9051
9052
9053
9054
9055
9056
9057
9058
9059
9060
9061
9062
9063
9064
9065
9066
9067
9068
9069
9070
9071
9072
9073
9074
9075
9076
9077
9078
9079
9080
9081
9082
9083
9084
9085
9086
9087
9088
9089
9090
9091
9092
9093
9094
9095
9096
9097
9098
9099
9100
9101
9102
9103
9104
9105
9106
9107
9108
9109
9110
9111
9112
9113
9114
9115
9116
9117
9118
9119
9120
9121
9122
9123
9124
9125
9126
9127
9128
9129
9130
9131
9132
9133
9134
9135
9136
9137
9138
9139
9140
9141
9142
9143
9144
9145
9146
9147
9148
9149
9150
9151
9152
9153
9154
9155
9156
9157
9158
9159
9160
9161
9162
9163
9164
9165
9166
9167
9168
9169
9170
9171
9172
9173
9174
9175
9176
9177
9178
9179
9180
9181
9182
9183
9184
9185
9186
9187
9188
9189
9190
9191
9192
9193
9194
9195
9196
9197
9198
9199
9200
9201
9202
9203
9204
9205
9206
9207
9208
9209
9210
9211
9212
9213
9214
9215
9216
9217
9218
9219
9220
9221
9222
9223
9224
9225
9226
9227
9228
9229
9230
9231
9232
9233
9234
9235
9236
9237
9238
9239
9240
9241
9242
9243
9244
9245
9246
9247
9248
9249
9250
9251
9252
9253
9254
9255
9256
9257
9258
9259
9260
9261
9262
9263
9264
9265
9266
9267
9268
9269
9270
9271
9272
9273
9274
9275
9276
9277
9278
9279
9280
9281
9282
9283
9284
9285
9286
9287
9288
9289
9290
9291
9292
9293
9294
9295
9296
9297
9298
9299
9300
9301
9302
9303
9304
9305
9306
9307
9308
9309
9310
9311
9312
9313
9314
9315
9316
9317
9318
9319
9320
9321
9322
9323
9324
9325
9326
9327
9328
9329
9330
9331
9332
9333
9334
9335
9336
9337
9338
9339
9340
9341
9342
9343
9344
9345
9346
9347
9348
9349
9350
9351
9352
9353
9354
9355
9356
9357
9358
9359
9360
9361
9362
9363
9364
9365
9366
9367
9368
9369
9370
9371
9372
9373
9374
9375
9376
9377
9378
9379
9380
9381
9382
9383
9384
9385
9386
9387
9388
9389
9390
9391
9392
9393
9394
9395
9396
9397
9398
9399
9400
9401
9402
9403
9404
9405
9406
9407
9408
9409
9410
9411
9412
9413
9414
9415
9416
9417
9418
9419
9420
9421
9422
9423
9424
9425
9426
9427
9428
9429
9430
9431
9432
9433
9434
9435
9436
9437
9438
9439
9440
9441
9442
9443
9444
9445
9446
9447
9448
9449
9450
9451
9452
9453
9454
9455
9456
9457
9458
9459
9460
9461
9462
9463
9464
9465
9466
9467
9468
9469
9470
9471
9472
9473
9474
9475
9476
9477
9478
9479
9480
9481
9482
9483
9484
9485
9486
9487
9488
9489
9490
9491
9492
9493
9494
9495
9496
9497
9498
9499
9500
9501
9502
9503
9504
9505
9506
9507
9508
9509
9510
9511
9512
9513
9514
9515
9516
9517
9518
9519
9520
9521
9522
9523
9524
9525
9526
9527
9528
9529
9530
9531
9532
9533
9534
9535
9536
9537
9538
9539
9540
9541
9542
9543
9544
9545
9546
9547
9548
9549
9550
9551
9552
9553
9554
9555
9556
9557
9558
9559
9560
9561
9562
9563
9564
9565
9566
9567
9568
9569
9570
9571
9572
9573
9574
9575
9576
9577
9578
9579
9580
9581
9582
9583
9584
9585
9586
9587
9588
9589
9590
9591
9592
9593
9594
9595
9596
9597
9598
9599
9600
9601
9602
9603
9604
9605
9606
9607
9608
9609
9610
9611
9612
9613
9614
9615
9616
9617
9618
9619
9620
9621
9622
9623
9624
9625
9626
9627
9628
9629
9630
9631
9632
9633
9634
9635
9636
9637
9638
9639
9640
9641
9642
9643
9644
9645
9646
9647
9648
9649
9650
9651
9652
9653
9654
9655
9656
9657
9658
9659
9660
9661
9662
9663
9664
9665
9666
9667
9668
9669
9670
9671
9672
9673
9674
9675
9676
9677
9678
9679
9680
9681
9682
9683
9684
9685
9686
9687
9688
9689
9690
9691
9692
9693
9694
9695
9696
9697
9698
9699
9700
9701
9702
9703
9704
9705
9706
9707
9708
9709
9710
9711
9712
9713
9714
9715
9716
9717
9718
9719
9720
9721
9722
9723
9724
9725
9726
9727
9728
9729
9730
9731
9732
9733
9734
9735
9736
9737
9738
9739
9740
9741
9742
9743
9744
9745
9746
9747
9748
9749
9750
9751
9752
9753
9754
9755
9756
9757
9758
9759
9760
9761
9762
9763
9764
9765
9766
9767
9768
9769
9770
9771
9772
9773
9774
9775
9776
9777
9778
9779
9780
9781
9782
9783
9784
9785
9786
9787
9788
9789
9790
9791
9792
9793
9794
9795
9796
9797
9798
9799
9800
9801
9802
9803
9804
9805
9806
9807
9808
9809
9810
9811
9812
9813
9814
9815
9816
9817
9818
9819
9820
9821
9822
9823
9824
9825
9826
9827
9828
9829
9830
9831
9832
9833
9834
9835
9836
9837
9838
9839
9840
9841
9842
9843
9844
9845
9846
9847
9848
9849
9850
9851
9852
9853
9854
9855
9856
9857
9858
9859
9860
9861
9862
9863
9864
9865
9866
9867
9868
9869
9870
9871
9872
9873
9874
9875
9876
9877
9878
9879
9880
9881
9882
9883
9884
9885
9886
9887
9888
9889
9890
9891
9892
9893
9894
9895
9896
9897
9898
9899
9900
9901
9902
9903
9904
9905
9906
9907
9908
9909
9910
9911
9912
9913
9914
9915
9916
9917
9918
9919
9920
9921
9922
9923
9924
9925
9926
9927
9928
9929
9930
9931
9932
9933
9934
9935
9936
9937
9938
9939
9940
9941
9942
9943
9944
9945
9946
9947
9948
9949
9950
9951
9952
9953
9954
9955
9956
9957
9958
9959
9960
9961
9962
9963
9964
9965
9966
9967
9968
9969
9970
9971
9972
9973
9974
9975
9976
9977
9978
9979
9980
9981
9982
9983
9984
9985
9986
9987
9988
9989
9990
9991
9992
9993
9994
9995
9996
9997
9998
9999
10000
10001
10002
10003
10004
10005
10006
10007
10008
10009
10010
10011
10012
10013
10014
10015
10016
10017
10018
10019
10020
10021
10022
10023
10024
10025
10026
10027
10028
10029
10030
10031
10032
10033
10034
10035
10036
10037
10038
10039
10040
10041
10042
10043
10044
10045
10046
10047
10048
10049
10050
10051
10052
10053
10054
10055
10056
10057
10058
10059
10060
10061
10062
10063
10064
10065
10066
10067
10068
10069
10070
10071
10072
10073
10074
10075
10076
10077
10078
10079
10080
10081
10082
10083
10084
10085
10086
10087
10088
10089
10090
10091
10092
10093
10094
10095
10096
10097
10098
10099
10100
10101
10102
10103
10104
10105
10106
10107
10108
10109
10110
10111
10112
10113
10114
10115
10116
10117
10118
10119
10120
10121
10122
10123
10124
10125
10126
10127
10128
10129
10130
10131
10132
10133
10134
10135
10136
10137
10138
10139
10140
10141
10142
10143
10144
10145
10146
10147
10148
10149
10150
10151
10152
10153
10154
10155
10156
10157
10158
10159
10160
10161
10162
10163
10164
10165
10166
10167
10168
10169
10170
10171
10172
10173
10174
10175
10176
10177
10178
10179
10180
10181
10182
10183
10184
10185
10186
10187
10188
10189
10190
10191
10192
10193
10194
10195
10196
10197
10198
10199
10200
10201
10202
10203
10204
10205
10206
10207
10208
10209
10210
10211
10212
10213
10214
10215
10216
10217
10218
10219
10220
10221
10222
10223
10224
10225
10226
10227
10228
10229
10230
10231
10232
10233
10234
10235
10236
10237
10238
10239
10240
10241
10242
10243
10244
10245
10246
10247
10248
10249
10250
10251
10252
10253
10254
10255
10256
10257
10258
10259
10260
10261
10262
10263
10264
10265
10266
10267
10268
10269
10270
10271
10272
10273
10274
10275
10276
10277
10278
10279
10280
10281
10282
10283
10284
10285
10286
10287
10288
10289
10290
10291
10292
10293
10294
10295
10296
10297
10298
10299
10300
10301
10302
10303
10304
10305
10306
10307
10308
10309
10310
10311
10312
10313
10314
10315
10316
10317
10318
10319
10320
10321
10322
10323
10324
10325
10326
10327
10328
10329
10330
10331
10332
10333
10334
10335
10336
10337
10338
10339
10340
10341
10342
10343
10344
10345
10346
10347
10348
10349
10350
10351
10352
10353
10354
10355
10356
10357
10358
10359
10360
10361
10362
10363
10364
10365
10366
10367
10368
10369
10370
10371
10372
10373
10374
10375
10376
10377
10378
10379
10380
10381
10382
10383
10384
10385
10386
10387
10388
10389
10390
10391
10392
10393
10394
10395
10396
10397
10398
10399
10400
10401
10402
10403
10404
10405
10406
10407
10408
10409
10410
10411
10412
10413
10414
10415
10416
10417
10418
10419
10420
10421
10422
10423
10424
10425
10426
10427
10428
10429
10430
10431
10432
10433
10434
10435
10436
10437
10438
10439
10440
10441
10442
10443
10444
10445
10446
10447
10448
10449
10450
10451
10452
10453
10454
10455
10456
10457
10458
10459
10460
10461
10462
10463
10464
10465
10466
10467
10468
10469
10470
10471
10472
10473
10474
10475
10476
10477
10478
10479
10480
10481
10482
10483
10484
10485
10486
10487
10488
10489
10490
10491
10492
10493
10494
10495
10496
10497
10498
10499
10500
10501
10502
10503
10504
10505
10506
10507
10508
10509
10510
10511
10512
10513
10514
10515
10516
10517
10518
10519
10520
10521
10522
10523
10524
10525
10526
10527
10528
10529
10530
10531
10532
10533
10534
10535
10536
10537
10538
10539
10540
10541
10542
10543
10544
10545
10546
10547
10548
10549
10550
10551
10552
10553
10554
10555
10556
10557
10558
10559
10560
10561
10562
10563
10564
10565
10566
10567
10568
10569
10570
10571
10572
10573
10574
10575
10576
10577
10578
10579
10580
10581
10582
10583
10584
10585
10586
10587
10588
10589
10590
10591
10592
10593
10594
10595
10596
10597
10598
10599
10600
10601
10602
10603
10604
10605
10606
10607
10608
10609
10610
10611
10612
10613
10614
10615
10616
10617
10618
10619
10620
10621
10622
10623
10624
10625
10626
10627
10628
10629
10630
10631
10632
10633
10634
10635
10636
10637
10638
10639
10640
10641
10642
10643
10644
10645
10646
10647
10648
10649
10650
10651
10652
10653
10654
10655
10656
10657
10658
10659
10660
10661
10662
10663
10664
10665
10666
10667
10668
10669
10670
10671
10672
10673
10674
10675
10676
10677
10678
10679
10680
10681
10682
10683
10684
10685
10686
10687
10688
10689
10690
10691
10692
10693
10694
10695
10696
10697
10698
10699
10700
10701
10702
10703
10704
10705
10706
10707
10708
10709
10710
10711
10712
10713
10714
10715
10716
10717
10718
10719
10720
10721
10722
10723
10724
10725
10726
10727
10728
10729
10730
10731
10732
10733
10734
10735
10736
10737
10738
10739
10740
10741
10742
10743
10744
10745
10746
10747
10748
10749
10750
10751
10752
10753
10754
10755
10756
10757
10758
10759
10760
10761
10762
10763
10764
10765
10766
10767
10768
10769
10770
10771
10772
10773
10774
10775
10776
10777
10778
10779
10780
10781
10782
10783
10784
10785
10786
10787
10788
10789
10790
10791
10792
10793
10794
10795
10796
10797
10798
10799
10800
10801
10802
10803
10804
10805
10806
10807
10808
10809
10810
10811
10812
10813
10814
10815
10816
10817
10818
10819
10820
10821
10822
10823
10824
10825
10826
10827
10828
10829
10830
10831
10832
10833
10834
10835
10836
10837
10838
10839
10840
10841
10842
10843
10844
10845
10846
10847
10848
10849
10850
10851
10852
10853
10854
10855
10856
10857
10858
10859
10860
10861
10862
10863
10864
10865
10866
10867
10868
10869
10870
10871
10872
10873
10874
10875
10876
10877
10878
10879
10880
10881
10882
10883
10884
10885
10886
10887
10888
10889
10890
10891
10892
10893
10894
10895
10896
10897
10898
10899
10900
10901
10902
10903
10904
10905
10906
10907
10908
10909
10910
10911
10912
10913
10914
10915
10916
10917
10918
10919
10920
10921
10922
10923
10924
10925
10926
10927
10928
10929
10930
10931
10932
10933
10934
10935
10936
10937
10938
10939
10940
10941
10942
10943
10944
10945
10946
10947
10948
10949
10950
10951
10952
10953
10954
10955
10956
10957
10958
10959
10960
10961
10962
10963
10964
10965
10966
10967
10968
10969
10970
10971
10972
10973
10974
10975
10976
10977
10978
10979
10980
10981
10982
10983
10984
10985
10986
10987
10988
10989
10990
10991
10992
10993
10994
10995
10996
10997
10998
10999
11000
11001
11002
11003
11004
11005
11006
11007
11008
11009
11010
11011
11012
11013
11014
11015
11016
11017
11018
11019
11020
11021
11022
11023
11024
11025
11026
11027
11028
11029
11030
11031
11032
11033
11034
11035
11036
11037
11038
11039
11040
11041
11042
11043
11044
11045
11046
11047
11048
11049
11050
11051
11052
11053
11054
11055
11056
11057
11058
11059
11060
11061
11062
11063
11064
11065
11066
11067
11068
11069
11070
11071
11072
11073
11074
11075
11076
11077
11078
11079
11080
11081
11082
11083
11084
11085
11086
11087
11088
11089
11090
11091
11092
11093
11094
11095
11096
11097
11098
11099
11100
11101
11102
11103
11104
11105
11106
11107
11108
11109
11110
11111
11112
11113
11114
11115
11116
11117
11118
11119
11120
11121
11122
11123
11124
11125
11126
11127
11128
11129
11130
11131
11132
11133
11134
11135
11136
11137
11138
11139
11140
11141
11142
11143
11144
11145
11146
11147
11148
11149
11150
11151
11152
11153
11154
11155
11156
11157
11158
11159
11160
11161
11162
11163
11164
11165
11166
11167
11168
11169
11170
11171
11172
11173
11174
11175
11176
11177
11178
11179
11180
11181
11182
11183
11184
11185
11186
11187
11188
11189
11190
11191
11192
11193
11194
11195
11196
11197
11198
11199
11200
11201
11202
11203
11204
11205
11206
11207
11208
11209
11210
11211
11212
11213
11214
11215
11216
11217
11218
11219
11220
11221
11222
11223
11224
11225
11226
11227
11228
11229
11230
11231
11232
11233
11234
11235
11236
11237
11238
11239
11240
11241
11242
11243
11244
11245
11246
11247
11248
11249
11250
11251
11252
11253
11254
11255
11256
11257
11258
11259
11260
11261
11262
11263
11264
11265
11266
11267
11268
11269
11270
11271
11272
11273
11274
11275
11276
11277
11278
11279
11280
11281
11282
11283
11284
11285
11286
11287
11288
11289
11290
11291
11292
11293
11294
11295
11296
11297
11298
11299
11300
11301
11302
11303
11304
11305
11306
11307
11308
11309
11310
11311
11312
11313
11314
11315
11316
11317
11318
11319
11320
11321
11322
11323
11324
11325
11326
11327
11328
11329
11330
11331
11332
11333
11334
11335
11336
11337
11338
11339
11340
11341
11342
11343
11344
11345
11346
11347
11348
11349
11350
11351
11352
11353
11354
11355
11356
11357
11358
11359
11360
11361
11362
11363
11364
11365
11366
11367
11368
11369
11370
11371
11372
11373
11374
11375
11376
11377
11378
11379
11380
11381
11382
11383
11384
11385
11386
11387
11388
11389
11390
11391
11392
11393
11394
11395
11396
11397
11398
11399
11400
11401
11402
11403
11404
11405
11406
11407
11408
11409
11410
11411
11412
11413
11414
11415
11416
11417
11418
11419
11420
11421
11422
11423
11424
11425
11426
11427
11428
11429
11430
11431
11432
11433
11434
11435
11436
11437
11438
11439
11440
11441
11442
11443
11444
11445
11446
11447
11448
11449
11450
11451
11452
11453
11454
11455
11456
11457
11458
11459
11460
11461
11462
11463
11464
11465
11466
11467
11468
11469
11470
11471
11472
11473
11474
11475
11476
11477
11478
11479
11480
11481
11482
11483
11484
11485
11486
11487
11488
11489
11490
11491
11492
11493
11494
11495
11496
11497
11498
11499
11500
11501
11502
11503
11504
11505
11506
11507
11508
11509
11510
11511
11512
11513
11514
11515
11516
11517
11518
11519
11520
11521
11522
11523
11524
11525
11526
11527
11528
11529
11530
11531
11532
11533
11534
11535
11536
11537
11538
11539
11540
11541
11542
11543
11544
11545
11546
11547
11548
11549
11550
11551
11552
11553
11554
11555
11556
11557
11558
11559
11560
11561
11562
11563
11564
11565
11566
11567
11568
11569
11570
11571
11572
11573
11574
11575
11576
11577
11578
11579
11580
11581
11582
11583
11584
11585
11586
11587
11588
11589
11590
11591
11592
11593
11594
11595
11596
11597
11598
11599
11600
11601
11602
11603
11604
11605
11606
11607
11608
11609
11610
11611
11612
11613
11614
11615
11616
11617
11618
11619
11620
11621
11622
11623
11624
11625
11626
11627
11628
11629
11630
11631
11632
11633
11634
11635
11636
11637
11638
11639
11640
11641
11642
11643
11644
11645
11646
11647
11648
11649
11650
11651
11652
11653
11654
11655
11656
11657
11658
11659
11660
11661
11662
11663
11664
11665
11666
11667
11668
11669
11670
11671
11672
11673
11674
11675
11676
11677
11678
11679
11680
11681
11682
11683
11684
11685
11686
11687
11688
11689
11690
11691
11692
11693
11694
11695
11696
11697
11698
11699
11700
11701
11702
11703
11704
11705
11706
11707
11708
11709
11710
11711
11712
11713
11714
11715
11716
11717
11718
11719
11720
11721
11722
11723
11724
11725
11726
11727
11728
11729
11730
11731
11732
11733
11734
11735
11736
11737
11738
11739
11740
11741
11742
11743
11744
11745
11746
11747
11748
11749
11750
11751
11752
11753
11754
11755
11756
11757
11758
11759
11760
11761
11762
11763
11764
11765
11766
11767
11768
11769
11770
11771
11772
11773
11774
11775
11776
11777
11778
11779
11780
11781
11782
11783
11784
11785
11786
11787
11788
11789
11790
11791
11792
11793
11794
11795
11796
11797
11798
11799
11800
11801
11802
11803
11804
11805
11806
11807
11808
11809
11810
11811
11812
11813
11814
11815
11816
11817
11818
11819
11820
11821
11822
11823
11824
11825
11826
11827
11828
11829
11830
11831
11832
11833
11834
11835
11836
11837
11838
11839
11840
11841
11842
11843
11844
11845
11846
11847
11848
11849
11850
11851
11852
11853
11854
11855
11856
11857
11858
11859
11860
11861
11862
11863
11864
11865
11866
11867
11868
11869
11870
11871
11872
11873
11874
11875
11876
11877
11878
11879
11880
11881
11882
11883
11884
11885
11886
11887
11888
11889
11890
11891
11892
11893
11894
11895
11896
11897
11898
11899
11900
11901
11902
11903
11904
11905
11906
11907
11908
11909
11910
11911
11912
11913
11914
11915
11916
11917
11918
11919
11920
11921
11922
11923
11924
11925
11926
11927
11928
11929
11930
11931
11932
11933
11934
11935
11936
11937
11938
11939
11940
11941
11942
11943
11944
11945
11946
11947
11948
11949
11950
11951
11952
11953
11954
11955
11956
11957
11958
11959
11960
11961
11962
11963
11964
11965
11966
11967
11968
11969
11970
11971
11972
11973
11974
11975
11976
11977
11978
11979
11980
11981
11982
11983
11984
11985
11986
11987
11988
11989
11990
11991
11992
11993
11994
11995
11996
11997
11998
11999
12000
12001
12002
12003
12004
12005
12006
12007
12008
12009
12010
12011
12012
12013
12014
12015
12016
12017
12018
12019
12020
12021
12022
12023
12024
12025
12026
12027
12028
12029
12030
12031
12032
12033
12034
12035
12036
12037
12038
12039
12040
12041
12042
12043
12044
12045
12046
12047
12048
12049
12050
12051
12052
12053
12054
12055
12056
12057
12058
12059
12060
12061
12062
12063
12064
12065
12066
12067
12068
12069
12070
12071
12072
12073
12074
12075
12076
12077
12078
12079
12080
12081
12082
12083
12084
12085
12086
12087
12088
12089
12090
12091
12092
12093
12094
12095
12096
12097
12098
12099
12100
12101
12102
12103
12104
12105
12106
12107
12108
12109
12110
12111
12112
12113
12114
12115
12116
12117
12118
12119
12120
12121
12122
12123
12124
12125
12126
12127
12128
12129
12130
12131
12132
12133
12134
12135
12136
12137
12138
12139
12140
12141
12142
12143
12144
12145
12146
12147
12148
12149
12150
12151
12152
12153
12154
12155
12156
12157
12158
12159
12160
12161
12162
12163
12164
12165
12166
12167
12168
12169
12170
12171
12172
12173
12174
12175
12176
12177
12178
12179
12180
12181
12182
12183
12184
12185
12186
12187
12188
12189
12190
12191
12192
12193
12194
12195
12196
12197
12198
12199
12200
12201
12202
12203
12204
12205
12206
12207
12208
12209
12210
12211
12212
12213
12214
12215
12216
12217
12218
12219
12220
12221
12222
12223
12224
12225
12226
12227
12228
12229
12230
12231
12232
12233
12234
12235
12236
12237
12238
12239
12240
12241
12242
12243
12244
12245
12246
12247
12248
12249
12250
12251
12252
12253
12254
12255
12256
12257
12258
12259
12260
12261
12262
12263
12264
12265
12266
12267
12268
12269
12270
12271
12272
12273
12274
12275
12276
12277
12278
12279
12280
12281
12282
12283
12284
12285
12286
12287
12288
12289
12290
12291
12292
12293
12294
12295
12296
12297
12298
12299
12300
12301
12302
12303
12304
12305
12306
12307
12308
12309
12310
12311
12312
12313
12314
12315
12316
12317
12318
12319
12320
12321
12322
12323
12324
12325
12326
12327
12328
12329
12330
12331
12332
12333
12334
12335
12336
12337
12338
12339
12340
12341
12342
12343
12344
12345
12346
12347
12348
12349
12350
12351
12352
12353
12354
12355
12356
12357
12358
12359
12360
12361
12362
12363
12364
12365
12366
12367
12368
12369
12370
12371
12372
12373
12374
12375
12376
12377
12378
12379
12380
12381
12382
12383
12384
12385
12386
12387
12388
12389
12390
12391
12392
12393
12394
12395
12396
12397
12398
12399
12400
12401
12402
12403
12404
12405
12406
12407
12408
12409
12410
12411
12412
12413
12414
12415
12416
12417
12418
12419
12420
12421
12422
12423
12424
12425
12426
12427
12428
12429
12430
12431
12432
12433
12434
12435
12436
12437
12438
12439
12440
12441
12442
12443
12444
12445
12446
12447
12448
12449
12450
12451
12452
12453
12454
12455
12456
12457
12458
12459
12460
12461
12462
12463
12464
12465
12466
12467
12468
12469
12470
12471
12472
12473
12474
12475
12476
12477
12478
12479
12480
12481
12482
12483
12484
12485
12486
12487
12488
12489
12490
12491
12492
12493
12494
12495
12496
12497
12498
12499
12500
12501
12502
12503
12504
12505
12506
12507
12508
12509
12510
12511
12512
12513
12514
12515
12516
12517
12518
12519
12520
12521
12522
12523
12524
12525
12526
12527
12528
12529
12530
12531
12532
12533
12534
12535
12536
12537
12538
12539
12540
12541
12542
12543
12544
12545
12546
12547
12548
12549
12550
12551
12552
12553
12554
12555
12556
12557
12558
12559
12560
12561
12562
12563
12564
12565
12566
12567
12568
12569
12570
12571
12572
12573
12574
12575
12576
12577
12578
12579
12580
12581
12582
12583
12584
12585
12586
12587
12588
12589
12590
12591
12592
12593
12594
12595
12596
12597
12598
12599
12600
12601
12602
12603
12604
12605
12606
12607
12608
12609
12610
12611
12612
12613
12614
12615
12616
12617
12618
12619
12620
12621
12622
12623
12624
12625
12626
12627
12628
12629
12630
12631
12632
12633
12634
12635
12636
12637
12638
12639
12640
12641
12642
12643
12644
12645
12646
12647
12648
12649
12650
12651
12652
12653
12654
12655
12656
12657
12658
12659
12660
12661
12662
12663
12664
12665
12666
12667
12668
12669
12670
12671
12672
12673
12674
12675
12676
12677
12678
12679
12680
12681
12682
12683
12684
12685
12686
12687
12688
12689
12690
12691
12692
12693
12694
12695
12696
12697
12698
12699
12700
12701
12702
12703
12704
12705
12706
12707
12708
12709
12710
12711
12712
12713
12714
12715
12716
12717
12718
12719
12720
12721
12722
12723
12724
12725
12726
12727
12728
12729
12730
12731
12732
12733
12734
12735
12736
12737
12738
12739
12740
12741
12742
12743
12744
12745
12746
12747
12748
12749
12750
12751
12752
12753
12754
12755
12756
12757
12758
12759
12760
12761
12762
12763
12764
12765
12766
12767
12768
12769
12770
12771
12772
12773
12774
12775
12776
12777
12778
12779
12780
12781
12782
12783
12784
12785
12786
12787
12788
12789
12790
12791
12792
12793
12794
12795
12796
12797
12798
12799
12800
12801
12802
12803
12804
12805
12806
12807
12808
12809
12810
12811
12812
12813
12814
12815
12816
12817
12818
12819
12820
12821
12822
12823
12824
12825
12826
12827
12828
12829
12830
12831
12832
12833
12834
12835
12836
12837
12838
12839
12840
12841
12842
12843
12844
12845
12846
12847
12848
12849
12850
12851
12852
12853
12854
12855
12856
12857
12858
12859
12860
12861
12862
12863
12864
12865
12866
12867
12868
12869
12870
12871
12872
12873
12874
12875
12876
12877
12878
12879
12880
12881
12882
12883
12884
12885
12886
12887
12888
12889
12890
12891
12892
12893
12894
12895
12896
12897
12898
12899
12900
12901
12902
12903
12904
12905
12906
12907
12908
12909
12910
12911
12912
12913
12914
12915
12916
12917
12918
12919
12920
12921
12922
12923
12924
12925
12926
12927
12928
12929
12930
12931
12932
12933
12934
12935
12936
12937
12938
12939
12940
12941
12942
12943
12944
12945
12946
12947
12948
12949
12950
12951
12952
12953
12954
12955
12956
12957
12958
12959
12960
12961
12962
12963
12964
12965
12966
12967
12968
12969
12970
12971
12972
12973
12974
12975
12976
12977
12978
12979
12980
12981
12982
12983
12984
12985
12986
12987
12988
12989
12990
12991
12992
12993
12994
12995
12996
12997
12998
12999
13000
13001
13002
13003
13004
13005
13006
13007
13008
13009
13010
13011
13012
13013
13014
13015
13016
13017
13018
13019
13020
13021
13022
13023
13024
13025
13026
13027
13028
13029
13030
13031
13032
13033
13034
13035
13036
13037
13038
13039
13040
13041
13042
13043
13044
13045
13046
13047
13048
13049
13050
13051
13052
13053
13054
13055
13056
13057
13058
13059
13060
13061
13062
13063
13064
13065
13066
13067
13068
13069
13070
13071
13072
13073
13074
13075
13076
13077
13078
13079
13080
13081
13082
13083
13084
13085
13086
13087
13088
13089
13090
13091
13092
13093
13094
13095
13096
13097
13098
13099
13100
13101
13102
13103
13104
13105
13106
13107
13108
13109
13110
13111
13112
13113
13114
13115
13116
13117
13118
13119
13120
13121
13122
13123
13124
13125
13126
13127
13128
13129
13130
13131
13132
13133
13134
13135
13136
13137
13138
13139
13140
13141
13142
13143
13144
13145
13146
13147
13148
13149
13150
13151
13152
13153
13154
13155
13156
13157
13158
13159
13160
13161
13162
13163
13164
13165
13166
13167
13168
13169
13170
13171
13172
13173
13174
13175
13176
13177
13178
13179
13180
13181
13182
13183
13184
13185
13186
13187
13188
13189
13190
13191
13192
13193
13194
13195
13196
13197
13198
13199
13200
13201
13202
13203
13204
13205
13206
13207
13208
13209
13210
13211
13212
13213
13214
13215
13216
13217
13218
13219
13220
13221
13222
13223
13224
13225
13226
13227
13228
13229
13230
13231
13232
13233
13234
13235
13236
13237
13238
13239
13240

<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.1//EN"
    "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml11/DTD/xhtml11.dtd">
<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en">
  <head>
    <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" />
    <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" />
    <title>
    The works of Richard Hurd, Volume 6 (of 8), by Richard Hurd.--a Project Gutenberg eBook
    </title>
    <style type="text/css">

a {
    text-decoration: none}

small {
    font-style: normal;
    font-size: small}

body {
    padding: 4px;
    margin: auto 10%}

p {
    text-align: justify}

.medium {
    font-size: medium}

.large {
    font-size: large}

.xx-large {
    font-size: xx-large}

h1, h2 {
    page-break-before: always}

h1, h2, h3 {
    text-align: center; /* all headings centered */
    font-weight: normal;
    clear: both;
    margin: 2em auto 1em auto}

.author {
    display: block;
    text-align: right;
    margin: auto 10px}

p.drop:first-letter {
    float: left;
    clear: left;
    font-family: serif;
    font-size: 300%;
    line-height: 70%;
    padding: 2px 6px 0 6px}

p.drop {
    text-indent: -6px}

.uppercase {
    text-transform: uppercase}

.hang {
    text-indent: -2em;
    padding-left: 2em}

/* Tables */
.table {
    display: table;
    margin: auto}

table {
    margin: 2em auto}

th {
    padding-top: 20px}

td {
    text-indent: -1em;
    padding-left: 1em}

.tdrb {
    vertical-align: bottom;
    text-align: right}

/* End Tables */

.copy {
    font-size: small;
    text-align: center}

.smcap {
    font-style: normal;
    font-variant: small-caps}

/* Images */
img {
    border: none;
    max-width: 100%}

.figcenter   {
    clear: both;
    margin: 2em auto;
    text-align: center;
    max-width: 600px}

/* Footnotes */
.footnotes {
    margin: 2em auto;
    border: 4px double #004200}

.fnanchor {
    vertical-align: super;
    font-style: normal;
    font-weight: normal;
    font-size: x-small;
    line-height: .1em;
    text-decoration: none;
    white-space: nowrap  /* keeps footnote on same line as referenced text */}

.footnote p:first-child {
    text-indent: -2.5em}

.footnote p {
    margin: 1em;
    padding-left: 2.5em}

.label {
    width: 2em;
    display: inline-block;
    text-align: right;
    text-decoration: none}

.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */
  /*  visibility: hidden;  */
    color: #004200;
    position: absolute;
    right: 5px;
    font-style: normal;
    font-weight: normal;
    font-size: small;
    text-align: right;
} /* page numbers */

/* Transcriber's notes */
.transnote {
    background-color: #E6E6FA;
    border: #004200 double 4px;
    color: black;
    margin: 2em auto;
    padding: 1em}

/* Poetry */

.poetry {
    margin: auto;
    text-align: center}

.poem {
    margin: auto;
    display: inline-block;
    text-align: left}

.poem .stanza {
    margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em}
    .poem span.i0     {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
    .poem span.i2     {display: block; margin-left: 1em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}

    </style>
  </head>
<body>
<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 54541 ***</div>

<div class="figcenter">
<img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="" />
</div>

<div class="transnote">
<h3>Transcriber’s Note:</h3>

<p>This project uses utf-8 encoded characters. If some characters are
not readable, check your settings of your browser to ensure you have a
default font installed that can display utf-8 characters.</p></div>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_i">i</span></p>

<h1><small>THE</small><br />

WORKS<br />

<small>OF</small><br />

RICHARD HURD, D.D.<br />

<span class="large">LORD BISHOP OF WORCESTER.</span><br />

<span class="medium">VOL. VI.</span><br /></h1>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_ii">ii</span></p>

<p class="copy">
Printed by J. Nichols and Son,<br />
Red Lion Passage, Fleet Street, London.<br /></p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_iii">iii</span></p>

<h2 class="xx-large">
<small>THE</small><br />

WORKS<br />

<small>OF</small><br />

RICHARD HURD, D.D.<br />

<span class="large">LORD BISHOP OF WORCESTER.<br />

IN EIGHT VOLUMES.<br />

VOL. VI.</span><br />

<img src="images/titlepage.png" alt="" /><br />

<span class="large">LONDON:</span><br />

<span class="medium">PRINTED FOR T. CADELL AND W. DAVIES, STRAND.<br />

1811.</span>
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_iv">iv</span><br />
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_v">v</span></h2>

<h2 class="xx-large">
THEOLOGICAL WORKS.<br />

<span class="large">VOL. II.</span>
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_vi">vi</span><br />
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_vii">vii</span></h2>

<h2 class="xx-large">
SERMONS<br />

<small>PREACHED AT</small><br />

LINCOLN’S-INN,<br />

<span class="large">BETWEEN THE YEARS 1765 AND 1776:</span><br />

<small>WITH</small><br />

<span class="large">A LARGER DISCOURSE,</span><br />

<small>ON</small><br />

<span class="large">CHRIST’S DRIVING THE MERCHANTS<br />
OUT OF THE TEMPLE;</span><br />

<small>IN WHICH THE NATURE AND END OF THAT FAMOUS<br />

TRANSACTION IS EXPLAINED.</small></h2>

<p class="hang">
SATIS ME VIXISSE ARBITRABOR, ET OFFICIUM
HOMINIS IMPLESSE, SI LABOR MEUS ALIQUOS
HOMINES, AB ERRORIBUS LIBERATOS, AD ITER
CŒLESTE DIREXERIT.
<span class="author smcap">Lactantius.</span><br />
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_viii">viii</span><br />
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_ix">ix</span></p>

<h2 class="xx-large">
<small>TO THE</small><br />

MASTERS OF THE BENCH<br />

<small>OF THE HONOURABLE SOCIETY OF</small><br />

LINCOLN’S INN,<br />

<span class="large">THE FOLLOWING SERMONS,</span><br />

<small>IN ACKNOWLEDGMENT OF THEIR MANY AND<br />

GREAT FAVOURS,<br />

ARE BY THE AUTHOR<br />

MOST RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED.</small><br />
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_x">x</span><br />

<span class="pagenum" id="Page_xi">xi</span></h2>

<h2 id="CONTENTS">CONTENTS<br />

<small>OF</small><br />

THE SIXTH VOLUME.</h2>

<table>
  <tr>
    <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_I"><span class="smcap">Sermon I.</span> Preached Feb. 3, 1771.<br />
    <span class="smcap">Mat.</span> xiii. 51, 52.</a></th>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td><i>Jesus saith unto them, Have ye understood
    all these things? They say unto him, Yea,
    Lord. Then said he unto them, Therefore
    every scribe which is instructed unto the
    kingdom of heaven, is like unto a man that
    is an householder, which bringeth forth out
    of his treasure things new and old.</i></td>
    <td class="tdrb">1</td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_II"><span class="smcap">Sermon II.</span> Preached Nov. 8, 1767.<br />
    <span class="smcap">1 Cor.</span> x. 15.</a></th>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td><i>I speak as to wise men: judge ye what I say.</i></td>
    <td class="tdrb">23 <span class="pagenum" id="Page_xii">xii</span></td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_III"><span class="smcap">Sermon III.</span> Preached May 17, 1767.<br />
    <span class="smcap">Rom.</span> ii. 14, 15.</a></th>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td><i>When the Gentiles, which have not the Law</i>,
    <small>DO</small> <i>by Nature the things contained in the
    Law, these, having not the Law, are a Law
    unto themselves: which shew the work of
    the Law written in their hearts, their</i> <small>CONSCIENCE</small>
    <i>also bearing witness, and their
    thoughts in the mean while</i> <small>ACCUSING</small> <i>or else</i>
    <small>EXCUSING</small> <i>one another</i>.</td>
    <td class="tdrb">37</td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_IV"><span class="smcap">Sermon IV.</span> Preached May 24, 1767.<br />
    <span class="smcap">Gal.</span> iii. 19.</a></th>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td><i>Wherefore then serveth the Law?</i></td>
    <td class="tdrb">52</td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_V"><span class="smcap">Sermon V.</span> Preached May 1, 1768.<br />
    <span class="smcap">Heb.</span> ii. 3.</a></th>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td><i>How shall we escape, if we neglect so great Salvation?</i></td>
    <td class="tdrb">67</td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_VI"><span class="smcap">Sermon VI.</span> Preached Nov. 16, 1766.<br />
    <span class="smcap">John</span> xiv. 8.</a></th>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td><i>Philip saith to him, Lord, shew us the Father, and it sufficeth us.</i></td>
    <td class="tdrb">83</td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_VII"><span class="smcap">Sermon VII.</span> Preached in the year 1771.<br />
    <span class="smcap">James</span> iv. 1.</a></th>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td><i>From whence come wars and fightings among you? Come they not hence, even of your lusts that war in your members?</i></td>
    <td class="tdrb">101 <span class="pagenum" id="Page_xiii">xiii</span></td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_VIII"><span class="smcap">Sermon VIII.</span> Preached April 29, 1770.<br />
    <span class="smcap">1 Tim.</span> i. 5.</a></th>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td><i>The end of the Commandment is Charity, out of a pure heart, and of a good conscience, and of faith unfeigned.</i></td>
    <td class="tdrb">116</td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_IX"><span class="smcap">Sermon IX.</span> Preached Nov. 9, 1766.<br />
    <span class="smcap">Rom.</span> xii. 10.</a></th>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td>&mdash;<i>In honour preferring one another.</i></td>
    <td class="tdrb">130</td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_X"><span class="smcap">Sermon X.</span> Preached May 6, 1770.<br />
    <span class="smcap">John</span> xiii. 8.</a></th>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td>&mdash;<i>Jesus answered him, if I wash thee not, thou host no part with me.</i></td>
    <td class="tdrb">143</td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_XI"><span class="smcap">Sermon XI.</span> Preached June 20, 1773.<br />
    <span class="smcap">Mark</span> ix. 49.</a></th>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td><i>For every one shall be salted with fire, and every sacrifice shall be salted with salt.</i></td>
    <td class="tdrb">160</td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_XII"><span class="smcap">Sermon XII.</span> Preached Feb. 9, 1766.<br />
    <span class="smcap">Gal.</span> vi. 3.</a></th>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td><i>If a man think himself to be something, when he is nothing, he deceiveth himself.</i></td>
    <td class="tdrb">174</td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_XIII"><span class="smcap">Sermon XIII.</span> Preached May 16, 1773.<br />
    <span class="smcap">2 Cor.</span> x. 12.</a></th>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td><i>We dare not make ourselves of the number, or compare ourselves, with some that commend themselves: But they, measuring themselves by themselves, and comparing themselves among themselves, are not wise.</i></td>
    <td class="tdrb">187 <span class="pagenum" id="Page_xiv">xiv</span></td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_XIV"><span class="smcap">Sermon XIV.</span> Preached April 27, 1766.<br />
    St. <span class="smcap">Mark</span> iv. 24.</a></th>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td><i>Take heed what ye hear.</i> Or, as the equivalent phrase is in St. <span class="smcap">Luke</span>, viii. 18. <i>Take heed</i> <small>HOW</small> <i>ye hear</i>.</td>
    <td class="tdrb">201</td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_XV"><span class="smcap">Sermon XV.</span> Preached Nov. 24, 1765.<br />
    <span class="smcap">Rom.</span> xvi. 19.</a></th>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td><i>I would have you wise unto that which is good, and simple concerning evil.</i></td>
    <td class="tdrb">215</td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_XVI"><span class="smcap">Sermon XVI.</span> Preached Dec. 1, 1765.<br />
    <span class="smcap">Rom.</span> xvi. 19.</a></th>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td><i>I would have you wise unto that which is good, and simple concerning evil.</i></td>
    <td class="tdrb">230</td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_XVII"><span class="smcap">Sermon XVII.</span> Preached Nov. 22, 1772.<br />
    <span class="smcap">John</span> v. 44.</a></th>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td><i>How can ye believe, which receive honour one of another, and seek not the honour that cometh of God only?</i></td>
    <td class="tdrb">245</td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_XVIII"><span class="smcap">Sermon XVIII.</span> Preached April 23, 1769.<br />
    <span class="smcap">John</span> ix. 41.</a></th>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td><i>Jesus saith to them, If ye were blind, ye should have no sin; but now ye say, we see; therefore your sin remaineth.</i></td>
    <td class="tdrb">260 <span class="pagenum" id="Page_xv">xv</span></td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_XIX"><span class="smcap">Sermon XIX.</span> Preached May 12, 1771.<br />
    <span class="smcap">1 Cor.</span> viii. 1.</a></th>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td><i>Knowledge puffeth up; but Charity edifieth.</i></td>
    <td class="tdrb">276</td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_XX"><span class="smcap">Sermon XX.</span> Preached Nov. 19, 1769.<br />
    <span class="smcap">Acts of the Apostles</span> xxvi. 9.</a></th>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td><i>I verily thought with myself, that I ought to do many things contrary to the name of Jesus of Nazareth.</i></td>
    <td class="tdrb">290</td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_XXI"><span class="smcap">Sermon XXI.</span> Preached May 10, 1767.<br />
     St. <span class="smcap">Luke</span> vi. 26.</a></th>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td><i>Woe unto you, when all men speak well of you.</i></td>
    <td class="tdrb">304</td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_XXII"><span class="smcap">Sermon XXII.</span> Preached Feb. 6, 1774.<br />
    St. <span class="smcap">John</span> viii. 11.</a></th>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td><i>Jesus said to her, Neither do I condemn thee; Go, and sin no more.</i></td>
    <td class="tdrb">319</td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_XXIII"><span class="smcap">Sermon XXIII.</span> Preached March 1, 1772.<br />
    St. <span class="smcap">Matthew</span> xi. 29.</a></th>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td><i>Learn of me, for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls.</i></td>
    <td class="tdrb">333</td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_XXIV"><span class="smcap">Sermon XXIV.</span> Preached April 30, 1769.<br />
    <span class="smcap">Luke</span> xvi. 14.</a></th>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td><i>And the Pharisees also, who were covetous, heard all those things: and they derided him.</i></td>
    <td class="tdrb">350 <span class="pagenum" id="Page_xvi">xvi</span></td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_XXV"><span class="smcap">Sermon XXV.</span> Preached June 25, 1775.<br />
    <span class="smcap">Ecclesiastes</span> v. 10.</a></th>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td><i>He that loveth silver, shall not be satisfied with silver.</i></td>
    <td class="tdrb">366</td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_XXVI"><span class="smcap">Sermon XXVI.</span> Preached Feb. 21, 1773.<br />
    <span class="smcap">1 Cor.</span> vi. 20.</a></th>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td><i>Therefore glorify God in your body, and in your spirit, which are God’s.</i></td>
    <td class="tdrb">378</td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_XXVII"><span class="smcap">Sermon XXVII.</span> Preached March 13, 1774.<br />
    <span class="smcap">Job</span> xiii. 26.</a></th>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td><i>Thou writest bitter things against me, and makest me to possess the iniquities of my youth.</i></td>
    <td class="tdrb">393</td>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <th colspan="2"><a href="#SERMON_XXVIII"><span class="smcap">Sermon XXVIII.</span> Preached May 28, 1769.<br />
    <span class="smcap">Ecclesiastes</span> vii. 21, 22.</a></th>
  </tr>
  <tr>
    <td><i>Take no heed unto all words that are spoken,
    lest thou hear thy servant curse thee. For
    oftentimes, also, thine own heart knoweth,
    that thou thyself, likewise, hast cursed
    others.</i></td>
    <td class="tdrb">407</td>
  </tr>
</table>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_1">1</span></p>

<h2 id="SERMON_I">SERMON I.<br />

<span class="medium">PREACHED FEBRUARY 3, 1771.</span></h2>

<h3>St. <span class="smcap">Matth.</span> xiii. 51, 52.</h3>

<p><i>Jesus saith unto them, Have ye understood
all these things? They say unto him, Yea,
Lord. Then said he unto them, Therefore
every scribe which is instructed unto the
kingdom of heaven, is like unto a man that
is an householder, which bringeth forth out
of his treasure things new and old.</i></p>

<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">If</span> there be any difficulty in these words, it
will be removed by considering the <i>manners</i>
of that time, in which Jesus lived, and the
<i>ideas</i> of those persons, to whom he addressed
himself.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_2">2</span></p>

<p>The Israelites were a plain, frugal people;
abundantly supplied with all things needful to
the convenient support of life, but very sparingly
with such as come under the notion of ornaments
or superfluities. They drew their means of
subsistence chiefly from pasturage, agriculture,
and other rural occupations. Gold and Silver
was scarce among the ancient Jews; and the
less necessary to them, as they had little traffic
among themselves, and still less with their
pagan neighbours; the wisdom of their Law
having purposely restrained, and, upon the
matter, prohibited, all the gainful ways of
commerce.</p>

<p>Now, to a people, thus circumstanced, unfurnished,
in a good degree, with arts and
manufactures, and but slenderly provided with
the <i>means of exchange</i> for the commodities
they produce; management, thrift, and what
we call <i>good husbandry</i>, must have been a
capital virtue. <i>Householders</i> were especially
concerned to hoard up, and keep by them, in
readiness, all such things as might be requisite
either to cloath or feed their respective families.
And therefore, as they were continually making
fresh additions to their stock, so they carefully
preserved what things they had, provided they
were of a nature to be preserved, although
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_3">3</span>
time and use had impaired the grace, or diminished
the value, of them. Thus, they had
things <i>new and old</i> laid up in their store-house,
or <i>treasury</i> (for these provisions were indeed
their <i>treasure</i>), which, as the text says, they
could <i>bring forth</i>, on any emergency that
called for them.</p>

<p>And to this Jewish <i>Householder</i>, thus furnished
and prepared for all occasions, our Lord
compares <i>the scribe, instructed unto the kingdom
of heaven</i>, in other words, the minister,
or preacher of the Gospel. Every such <i>scribe</i>
was to be suitably provided with what might
be serviceable to those committed to his charge:
And the Text delivers it, as <i>a general inference</i>
from the example of Christ himself
(who, from a variety of topics, some <i>new</i>,
some <i>old</i>, had been instructing his disciples in
this chapter), that <small>WE</small>, the teachers of his religion,
should likewise have in store a variety
of knowledge for the supply of his church, and
that we should not be backward or sparing, as
we see occasion, in the use of it. <span class="smcap">Therefore</span>,
says he, that is, <i>for this end</i><a id="FNanchor_1" href="#Footnote_1" class="fnanchor">1</a> that your respective
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_4">4</span>
charges may be well and perfectly instructed
by you, as you have been by me,
<i>every scribe, which is instructed unto the kingdom
of heaven, is like unto a man that is an
householder, which bringeth forth out of his
treasure things new and old</i>.</p>

<p>It is true, if this instruction of our Lord
and Master had concerned <i>only</i> the preachers
of the word, I might have found a fitter place
and occasion for a discourse upon it. But the
case is much otherwise; and it concerns <i>all</i>
the faithful to understand what the duty of
those is, who are intrusted to dispense the word
of life, lest they take offence at the ministry,
without cause, and so deprive themselves of
the fruit which they might otherwise reap
from it.</p>

<p>Let me therefore lay before you some plain
considerations on the aphorism in the text;
and submit it to yourselves how far they may
deserve the notice of all Christians.</p>

<p>It would be ridiculous, no doubt, to torture
a meer figure of speech; and to pursue a metaphor
through all the minute applications,
which an ordinary imagination might find or
invent for it. But I shall not be suspected of
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_5">5</span>
trifling in this sort, when I only conclude,
from the comparison of a <i>Christian Scribe</i> to
the <i>Jewish Householder</i>;</p>

<p>I. That all the treasures of knowledge,
which the <span class="smcap">minister of the Gospel</span> may have
laid up in his mind, are destined, <i>not to the
purposes of vanity, but to the use of his
charge</i>; for such must have been the intention
of a reasonable <i>Householder</i>, in the stock of
provisions he had so carefully collected:</p>

<p>II. That such use must be estimated from
the apparent <i>wants of those, to whom this
knowledge is dispensed</i>; for so the frugal
<i>householder</i> expends his provisions on those
who evidently stand in need of them: And</p>

<p>III. Lastly, That among these wants, some,
at certain conjunctures, may be <i>more general</i>,
or <i>more pressing</i>, than ordinary; and then
his first care must be to relieve these, though
other real, and perhaps considerable wants,
be, for the present, neglected by him: just,
again, as the discreet <i>householder</i> is anxious to
provide against an uncommon distress that
befalls his whole family, or the greater part
of it, or that threatens the immediate destruction
of those whom it befalls, though he suspend
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_6">6</span>
his care, for a season, of particular, or
less momentous distresses.</p>

<p>In these <small>THREE</small> respects, then, I propose to
illustrate and enforce the comparison of the
Text, without any apprehension of being
thought to do violence to it.</p>

<p>I. The knowledge of a <i>well-instructed Scribe</i>
must be directed to the edification of his
charge, and not at all to the gratification of his
own vanity.</p>

<p>This conclusion results immediately from the
<i>subject</i> of the comparison. For the <i>Christian
Scribe</i> is not compared to a <i>prince</i>, who is
allowed, and even expected, to consult his own
state and magnificence; or, to one of those
popular <i>magistrates</i> in ancient times, whose
office it was to exhibit splendid shews, and furnish
expensive entertainments, to their fellow-citizens:
but to a plain Jewish <i>householder</i>,
who had nothing to regard beyond the necessary,
or, at most, decent accommodation of his
family.</p>

<p>And the comparison is <i>aptly</i> made, as we
shall see if we consider, either the <i>end</i> of a
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">7</span>
preacher’s office, or the <i>decorum</i> of his character.</p>

<p>His <small>OFFICE</small> obliges him to intend the most
essential interests of mankind, the reformation
of their lives, and the salvation of their souls.
And when the object of his care is so important,
what wonder if all inferior considerations
fall before it?</p>

<p>Besides, the Christian preacher has a <i>commission</i>
to discharge, a divine <i>message</i> to deliver.
And in such a case, men look not for
ingenuity, but fidelity. An ancient, or a modern
sophist may make what excursions he
thinks fit into the wide fields of science; and
may entertain us with his learning, or his wit,
as he finds himself able. He <i>may</i>, I say, do
this; for he has only to recommend himself to
our esteem, and to acquire a little popular reputation.
But <small>WE</small> have a <i>dispensation</i> committed
to us, <i>a form of sound words</i>, from
which we must not depart, <i>a doctrine</i>, which
we are to deliver with <i>uncorruptness</i>, <i>gravity</i>,
<i>sincerity</i><a id="FNanchor_2" href="#Footnote_2" class="fnanchor">2</a>. We please not men, but God; or
if men, <i>to their good</i>, only, <i>to edification</i><a id="FNanchor_3" href="#Footnote_3" class="fnanchor">3</a>.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">8</span></p>

<p>The <small>DECORUM</small> of our character requires, too,
that we be superior to all the arts of vanity and
ostentation. Even in secular professions, it is
expected that this rule of propriety be observed.
A <i>Physician</i> would be ridiculous, that
was more curious in penning a prescription,
than in weighing the matter of it: and the
<i>Advocate</i> would be little esteemed, that should
be more solicitous to display himself, than to
serve his client. How much more then may
it be expected from <i>a preacher of righteousness</i>,
that <small>HE</small> should forget his own personal
importance amid the high concerns of his profession!</p>

<p>And such was indeed the conduct of our
best guides, in the ministry. The ancient
Fathers were, many of them, richly furnished
with all the endowments, that might be required
to set themselves off to the utmost advantage.
Yet we find them, in their homilies
and discourses to the people, inattentive to
every thing but their main end; delivering
themselves, with an energy indeed, but a
plainness and even negligence of expression<a id="FNanchor_4" href="#Footnote_4" class="fnanchor">4</a>,
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">9</span>
that tempts frivolous readers, sometimes, to
make a doubt of their real, and, from other
monuments of their skill and pains, unquestioned
abilities.</p>

<p>And, in this contempt of secular fame, they
did but copy the example of St. Paul himself,
the great Apostle of the Gentiles; who, though
distinguished by the sublimest parts, though
profound in his knowledge of the Law, and
not unacquainted with Gentile learning, affected
no display either of his natural or acquired talents,
but, as he tells us himself (and his
writings attest the truth of his declaration),
<i>determined to know nothing</i>, among the faithful,
<i>save Jesus Christ, and him crucified</i><a id="FNanchor_5" href="#Footnote_5" class="fnanchor">5</a>.</p>

<p>Not that what abilities we have, are always
to lie concealed. There are occasions, no
doubt, when they may properly, that is, usefully,
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">10</span>
be exerted. But the minister of the
Gospel does not go in quest of such occasions:
he only adapts himself to them, when they
come in his way; and then pursues them no
farther than the end, he has in view, the edification
of others, not his own credit, demands
from him.</p>

<p>By this rule, the preachers of the word are
to conduct themselves. By the same rule, it
will, therefore, be but just to estimate their
charitable labours; and, when we see nothing
to admire in them, to conclude, That this
plainness of character may not be always owing
to incapacity, but sometimes, at least, to discretion
and the higher regards of duty.</p>

<p>And this candour, as liable as it is to misinterpretation,
will not be thought excessive,
if you reflect, that, as, in general, they are
bound to consult the good of their charge, and
to deliver nothing to their auditors, but what
they foresee, or presume at least, will be <i>useful</i>
to them: So</p>

<p>II. In the next place, The <i>degree</i> of that
utility must be regarded by the prudent dispenser
of God’s word, and can only be estimated
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">11</span>
by the apparent <i>wants</i> of those, to whom his
instructions are addressed.</p>

<p>It is an especial part of the <i>householder’s</i>
prudence to take care, that his treasure be laid
out on those, who have most need of it. He
has enough to do, perhaps, to satisfy the more
pressing demands of his domestics; and the
rules of a good œconomy require that he regard
those, before their humourous inclinations, or
even their more tolerable necessities. To speak
in Jewish ideas, He, that wants a <i>coat</i>, to defend
himself from the injuries of the weather,
must be supplied with that necessary garment,
though he go without a <i>cloak</i>; or, when a piece
of <i>bread</i> is called for, it must be administered
to the hungry, though others be made to wait
for their delicacies of <i>milk</i> and <i>honey</i>; or, a
lamb from the fold may be served up at an ordinary
feast, while the <i>fatted calf</i> is reserved
for some more solemn occasion.</p>

<p>Just thus it is in the dispensation of the
word. We apply ourselves, first and principally,
to relieve the more importunate demands
of our hearers; and, not being able, at the
same time, to provide for all, we prefer the case
of those who are starving for the want of necessary
instruction, to that of others who are in a
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">12</span>
condition to subsist on what hath already been
imparted to them.</p>

<p>Hence it is, that we are most frequent in
pressing the fundamental truths of the Gospel:
as well knowing, that very many have yet to
learn, or at least to digest, the first principles
of their religion; and that few, in comparison,
are either prepared, or enough disposed, <i>to go
on to perfection</i>.</p>

<p>There are those, perhaps, who expect us to
clear up some nice point of casuistry, or to lay
open to them the grounds and reasons of some
obnoxious article in the Christian Creed: in a
word, they would take it kindly of us, if, dropping
the common topics, which have been long
and much worn in the service of religion, we
provided some fresh ones, for their entertainment;
and instead of the stale fragments,
which are always at hand, and lie open to all
the family, we served up to them something
of better taste from the inner rooms of our
store-house, where our choicest viands are laid
up. All this is extremely well: and in due
season, so far as is fitting, the charitable dispenser
of God’s word will not be wanting to
their expectations; for he has gathered nothing,
however rare or exquisite, in the course of his
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">13</span>
<i>household</i> industry, of which he does not wish
them to partake. But, for the present, he
finds this indulgence to be out of place: he
sees, that the plainest duties of life, and the
most unquestioned articles of the faith, are, first
of all, to be inculcated: he perceives, that
numbers want to be put in mind of old practical
truths; and perhaps he understands, that
even those, who are the most forward to call
out for novelties in speculation, do not make
this demand with the best grace. He could
amuse them, it may be, with a curious theological
Lecture: but what if their sense of divine
things be dead? what if they want to have
their minds stimulated by the admonitions,
and their consciences alarmed with the terrors,
of the Gospel?</p>

<p>The question is not put at hazard. For so,
the Roman Governor was impatient <i>to hear
St. Paul concerning the faith in Christ</i>;
when yet the Apostle chose to <i>reason</i> with
him <i>of righteousness, temperance, and judgement
to come</i>: plain moral topics, such as had
often been discussed before him in the schools
of philosophy, but were now resumed to
good purpose; for in the end, we are told,
<i>Felix trembled</i>.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">14</span></p>

<p>Even, in the case of those, who may be
decent in their lives, who are enough instructed
in what is called morality, nay, and would
take it ill to be thought wanting in a competent
share of religious knowledge, a discourse
on <i>the elements of the faith</i> may not be, altogether,
unseasonable. For there are, of
these, who exclude <i>Religion</i>, from their
scheme of morality; or <i>Christianity</i>, from their
scheme of religion; or who, professing Christianity,
scarce know what <i>Redemption</i> means:
who are yet to learn with what awful, yet filial
piety, they are to look up to God <i>the Father</i>;
who reflect not, what transcendant honour is
due from them to God <i>the Son</i>; and who have
scarce, perhaps, heared, or have little regarded,
whether there <i>be any Holy Ghost</i>.</p>

<p>If any such attend our assemblies, think
not much that we are ready to impart to them
the plainest, the commonest, because the most
<i>necessary</i>, instruction: and, though we would
consult the wants of all, you are not to be surprized,
or disgusted, if we run to the relief of
those first, who want our assistance most; and,
like the good <i>householder</i>, bestow our <i>old
things</i> on the needy and indigent, before we
expend our <i>new</i> on the curious and delicate;
who might, we will say, be better accommodated
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">15</span>
with them, but are not, in the mean
time, destitute of what is needful to their spiritual
life. But</p>

<p>III. This care is more especially required
of the Christian Scribe, when his charge is
exposed, in certain conjunctures, to new and
extraordinary wants, which, if not relieved in
the instant, may grow to be ruinous, and absolutely
fatal: then, above all, he is to consider,
not what instruction is most acceptable
to his hearers, but what their critical situation
demands.</p>

<p>For, here again, the example of the watchful
and beneficent <i>householder</i>, is our direction.
The season may be uncommonly severe and
inclement: or, a dangerous, perhaps a contagious
disease, afflicts his family; and then
the warmest, although the coarsest, clothing
must be sought out for the <i>naked</i>; and not
the most palatable, but the most wholesome
food, must be administered to the <i>sick</i>.</p>

<p>Disasters, like these, sometimes befall the
household of Christ. A cold atheistic spirit
prevails, and chills the vital principles of all
virtue, as well as religion: or a pestilent
heresy spreads its venom through the church,
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">16</span>
and turns the medicine of life itself, the salutary
instruction of God’s word, unless prepared and
applied by skilful hands, into a deadly poison.
Then it is that the well-appointed Scribe emulates
the generous care and pains of the good
<i>householder</i>; and whatever he has in store, of
ancient or modern collection, whether of philosophy
or criticism, whether of eloquent persuasion
or sound logic, all must be brought
forth, to warm the piety, or to purify the faith,
of his hearers.</p>

<p>We, of this nation, have not been so happy
as to want examples of such distresses.</p>

<p>1. The fanatical sects, that sprung up in
abundance amid the confusions of the last
century, had so corrupted the word of God
by their impure glosses on the Gospel-doctrine
of Grace, that the age became immoral on
principle, and, under the name of <i>Saints</i>, engendered
a hateful brood of profligate <i>Antinomians</i>;
that is, a sort of Christians, if they
may be so called, <i>who turned the grace of
God into licentiousness</i>, and, to magnify his
goodness, very conscientiously transgressed his
Laws. In a word, they taught, that the
<i>elect</i> were above ordinances, and might be
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">17</span>
saved without, nay in defiance of, the moral
Law.</p>

<p>This horrid divinity struck so directly at the
root of all true religion, that it could not but
alarm the zeal of good men. Accordingly,
about the time of the Restoration, and for
some years after it, a number of eminent Divines
(and <small>ONE</small> especially, well known, and
deservedly honoured, in this place<a id="FNanchor_6" href="#Footnote_6" class="fnanchor">6</a>) bent all
their nerves to expose and confound so pernicious
a heresy: and with so invincible a
force of plain and perspicuous reasoning, as
brought most men to their senses, and effectually
silenced, or disgraced, the rest. They
opened the grounds and obligations of morality
so plainly, and set the Gospel scheme of salvation
<i>through faith, working by charity</i>, in
so full and striking a light, that injured <i>Virtue</i>
recovered her ancient honours, and yet was
taught to acknowledge a just dependance on
saving <i>Faith</i>.</p>

<p>Such was the triumph of enlightened reason
and well-interpreted Scripture over <i>Antinomianism</i>:
while yet many perverse, and more
mistaken, hearers of those days, were ready to
revile their teachers, for dwelling so much and
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">18</span>
so long on these <i>old</i> topics, and would have
gladly received other, and more <i>novel</i> instructions,
at their hands.</p>

<p>2. But now the licence of that age, which
followed the Restoration, was gone over, on the
sudden, into other extravagances, equally ruinous
to the souls of men.</p>

<p>It had been made too clear to be denied,
that moral righteousness is of indispensable
obligation, so long as there is a God to serve,
or common sense is allowed to have any hand
in explaining his laws. To get rid then of so
inconvenient a restraint, as genuine morality;
many daring spirits of that time, rushed into
<i>Atheism</i>; while the more timid, took refuge
in <i>Popery</i>. For, to disown a moral Governour,
or to admit that any observances of superstition
can release men from the duty of
obeying him, equally serves the purpose of
those, who resolve to be as wicked as they dare,
or as little virtuous as they can.</p>

<p>These new evils, each of which, in its turn,
the court itself had countenanced, or introduced,
called for fresh remedies; and it was
not long before they were administered, with
effect. The same eminent persons, who had
vindicated moral virtue, now supported the
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">19</span>
cause of <i>piety</i>, and of <i>protestantism</i>, with
equal success. They overturned all the prophaneness,
and all the philosophy of <i>Atheism</i>,
from its foundations: and, with resistless argument,
baffled the presumption, and beat
down the sophistry, of the church of Rome.
Yet these matchless servants of truth were
charged by some, with indiscretion in bringing
to light all the horrors of atheistic impiety,
though in order to expose them; and with
preposterous zeal, in directing all their efforts
against Popery, though it wore, at that time,
so malignant an aspect on all our dearest interests.</p>

<p>They were not, however, diverted by these
clamours from pursuing their honest purposes:
and we owe it to them, in a great measure,
that these two systems of iniquity, I mean,
Atheism, and Popery, are no longer in repute
among us.</p>

<p>3. Still, the state of the times may be altered,
without being much improved. For, though
few will avow direct Atheism, and not many,
I hope, are proselyted to Popery, yet the
number of those is not small, who are but
Protestants, in name; and scarce Deists, in
reality. Many profess, or secretly entertain,
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">20</span>
a disbelief of all revealed Religion; and many
more take unwarrantable liberties with the
Christian faith, though they pretend to respect
it. At the same time, as extremes beget each
other, there are those who seem relapsing into
the old exploded fanaticism of the last age;
from a false zeal, it may be, to counteract
the ill impression of those other licentious
principles.</p>

<p>Thus is the unbalanced mind of man always
shifting from one excess into another; and
rarely knows to sustain itself in that just <i>mean</i>,
which pure religion and right reason demand.
Wonder not therefore, that our cares are still
suited to the exigencies of our hearers; and
that we labour to supply them with that provision
of sacred truth, which they most want;
that we strive to excite in them awful ideas
of God’s moral government; are <i>instant in
season and out of season</i> to assert the utility,
the importance, the necessity of divine revelation;
and are anxious to maintain the prerogatives
of Christian faith, yet without depreciating
the moral Law, or infringing the rights
of natural reason: that we admonish you to
think soberly, to inquire modestly, and to
believe what the word of God expressly teaches,
though ye do not, and can not, many times,
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">21</span>
comprehend the height and depth of divine
wisdom: that we remember, in short, what is
required of Stewards, who are appointed to
dispense the treasures of Christian knowledge,
and to superintend the <i>household</i> of God.</p>

<p>I have now gone through the several topics,
which our Lord’s parable of the <i>Householder</i>
seemed naturally to suggest to me: not so
much with a view to make our own apology
(for if we do not our duty, we deserve, and if
we do, we want, none) as to set before you a
just idea of our office and ministry, that so ye
may judge rightly and equitably of us, for
your own sakes. For it is not indifferent to
the <i>household</i>, what opinion is entertained of
the <i>Householder</i>. Many will not suffer him
to <i>relieve</i> their wants, or perhaps acknowledge
they <i>have</i> any <i>wants</i> to be relieved, if they do
not conceive with some respect of his discretion,
at least, and good-will.</p>

<p>And though, in the discharge of our duty to
all, we may seem to neglect many, and may
even dissatisfy, nay offend some; yet, on reflexion,
you will see that we are not wanting
to our trust&mdash;if we always endeavour to dispense
<i>salutary</i> doctrines&mdash;if, especially, we dispense
<i>such</i> as the apparent and urgent necessities of
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">22</span>
men call for&mdash;and, above all, if we be ready
to dispense <i>all</i> our treasures, <i>new</i> and <i>old</i>,
when the more alarming distresses of the
Christian church require, on occasion, our best
attention and liberality.</p>

<p>To conclude: We respect your good opinion;
nay, perhaps, are too solicitous to obtain it.
But we would, or we should, in the first place,
please him, who hath called us to <i>serve</i>, and
expects us to be <i>faithful, in all his house</i><a id="FNanchor_7" href="#Footnote_7" class="fnanchor">7</a>.
For we presume to be something more than
Orators, or Philosophers, plausible and artificial
discoursers, who have nothing in view
but their own credit, and are eloquent or ingenious,
that is, <i>vain</i>, by profession. We
have a character to sustain of greater dignity,
but less ostentation. <i>For</i> <small>WE</small> <i>preach not ourselves,
but Christ Jesus our Lord; and ourselves,
your servants for Jesus sake<a id="FNanchor_8" href="#Footnote_8" class="fnanchor">8</a>.</i>
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">23</span></p>

<h2 id="SERMON_II">SERMON II.<br />

<span class="medium">PREACHED NOVEMBER 8, 1767.</span></h2>

<h3><span class="smcap">1 Cor.</span> x. 15.</h3>

<p><i>I speak as to wise men: judge ye what I say.</i></p>

<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">Though</span> St. Paul said this to the Corinthians,
on a particular occasion, in reference
to a single argument he was then prosecuting,
and possibly not without an intended sarcasm
on those whom he here qualifies with the name
of <i>Wise men</i>, yet the words themselves express
the Apostle’s <i>own constant practice</i>; and what
is more, they express the <i>general spirit and
genius</i> of that Religion, which he was commissioned
to teach.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">24</span></p>

<p>For the Christian Religion, divine as it is in
its origin, sublime in its precepts, and profound
in its mysteries, yet condescends to apply itself
to the rational faculties of mankind; and, secure
in its own native truth and evidence,
challenges the wise and learned to <i>judge</i> of its
pretentions.</p>

<p>So that we may regard the declaration of the
text, as a standing precept to the Ministers of
the word, <i>to speak as to wise men</i>; and to the
hearers of it, to use their best faculties, <i>in
judging of what they say</i>.</p>

<p>These then shall be the <i>two parts</i> of my discourse
upon it. <i>Each</i> will suggest some important
reflexions to the persons respectively
concerned; to <small>US</small>, who preach the word, and
to <small>YOU</small>, who hear it.</p>

<p>I. The Religion of Jesus was designed for
the instruction of all sorts and degrees of men.
Nay, it is even alledged as one mark of its
divinity by Jesus himself, that not only the
rich and wise, but the <i>poor</i> and simple, <i>have
the Gospel preached unto them</i><a id="FNanchor_9" href="#Footnote_9" class="fnanchor">9</a>. And from
the different reception of it, at first, by these
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">25</span>
two sets of men, we may perhaps see which of
them deserved it most. But be this as it will,
the Christian Religion was destined for the use
of all mankind. Its saving truths are to be made
known to all: yet with some difference in the
<i>mode</i> of teaching them, according to the capacities
of those to whom they are addressed.</p>

<p><span class="smcap">To plain and illiterate men</span>, who have
no prejudices to counteract the virtue of God’s
word, and no pride of reason or science to question
its authority, the true and proper way is,
no doubt, to represent the great truths of the
Gospel, simply and clearly, accompanied with
its more general and obvious proofs, and enforced
upon them with all the earnestness of
exhortation. These <i>proofs</i>, and this <i>exhortation</i>,
carry such light and force in them, as
may be reasonably expected to have an effect
upon all men: yet to the <small>WISE</small>, who are
prompted by their curiosity, to habits of inquiry,
to <i>ask a reason of the hope that is in
us</i><a id="FNanchor_10" href="#Footnote_10" class="fnanchor">10</a>, and who are qualified by their parts and
studies to <i>judge</i> of such reason, we are instructed
to address a more elaborate <i>answer</i>, or
apology.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">26</span></p>

<p>The question then will be, <span class="smcap">On what principles
such Apology must be formed?</span> A
question the more important, because the apologies
of all times have been too generally constructed
on false and pernicious principles; on
<i>such</i> as cannot support, but rather tend to
weaken and disgrace, the very cause they would
defend.</p>

<p>Such were the apologies, many times, of the
<i>ancient Christians</i>, who would incorporate
with the divine religion of Jesus the vain
doctrines of the Gentile philosophy: and such
have been too often the more <i>modern apologies</i>,
which debase the word of God, and corrupt
it, with the dreams of our presumptuous
metaphysics.</p>

<p>Our Religion has suffered much in both these
ways: not, that reason or philosophy of any
kind, truly so called, can dis-serve the cause of
a <i>divine</i> Religion; but that we reason and
philosophize <i>falsely</i>, or <i>perversely</i>; that is,
we apply falshood to truth; or, we misapply
truth itself, in subjecting the incomprehensible
mysteries of our faith to the scrutiny and minute
discussion of our best reason.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">27</span></p>

<p>From these miscarriages, we are admonished
what to <i>avoid</i>: the example of the Apostle
Paul, who <i>spake as to wise men</i>, may instruct
us in the right way of <i>prosecuting</i> the defence
of the Gospel.</p>

<p>From <i>him</i>, then, we learn to frame our answers
and apologies to inquisitive men, on the
great established truths of natural and revealed
Religion; to assert the expediency of divine
Revelation, from the acknowledged weakness
and corruption of human nature, and from the
moral attributes of the Deity; to illustrate the
œconomy of God’s dispensations to mankind
by arguments taken from that œconomy itself:
to reason with <i>reverence</i><a id="FNanchor_11" href="#Footnote_11" class="fnanchor">11</a> on the nature of
those dispensations, to shew what their general
scope and purpose is, how perfect an agreement
there is between them, and how divinely they
are made to depend on each other.</p>

<p>In doing this, we shall find room for the
exercise of our best and most approved reason:
we shall look far ourselves, (and be able to let
others) into the harmony of the divine councils,
as they are set before us in the inspired
volumes: and, though we may not penetrate
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">28</span>
all the depths and obscurities of those councils,
yet, as in contemplating the <small>WORKS</small> of God,
which we know but in part, we can demonstrate
his <i>eternal power and Godhead</i>, so, in
studying his <small>WORD</small>, we shall see enough of his
unsearchable wisdom and goodness, <i>to put to
silence the ignorance of foolish</i>, and to satisfy
the inquiries of <i>wise</i>, men.</p>

<p>I say, <i>to satisfy the inquiries of wise men</i>:
for <i>wise men</i> do not expect to have all difficulties
in a divine system cleared up, and every
minute question, which may be raised about it,
answered (for <i>this</i>, God himself, the author
and finisher of it, can only perform, and much
<i>less</i> than this is abundantly sufficient for our
purpose); but all they desire is to see the several
parts of it so far cleared up, and made consistent
with each other, and, upon the whole,
to discover such evident marks of a superior
wisdom, power, and goodness in the frame and
texture of it, as may convince them that it is
truly divine, and worthy of the Supreme Mind
to whom we ascribe it.</p>

<p>When we speak <i>thus</i> as to <i>wise men</i>, we do
all that <i>wise men</i> can require of us: if others
be still unsatisfied, the fault is in themselves;
they are <i>curious</i>, but not wise.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">29</span></p>

<p>I lay the greater stress on this mode of defending
the Christian Religion from <i>itself</i>,
that is, by arguments taken from its own nature
and essence, because it shortens the dispute
with inquirers, and secures the honour of
that Religion, we undertake to defend.</p>

<p>First, <i>It shortens the dispute with Inquirers</i>,
by cutting off the consideration of all those
objections which men raise out of their own
imaginations. The defender of Christianity
is not concerned to obviate every idle fancy,
that floats in the head of a visionary objector.
Men have not the making of their Religion,
but must take it for such as the Scriptures represent
it to be. And if we defend it on the
footing of such representation, we do all that
can be reasonably required of us. It is nothing
to the purpose what men may imagine
to themselves concerning the marks and characters
of a divine Revelation: it is enough,
that there are <i>such marks and characters</i> in
the Religion of Jesus (whether more or fewer,
whether the same or other, than we might
previously have expected, is of no moment) as
shew it, in all reasonable construction, to be
<i>divine</i>. And thus our labour with Inquirers
is much abridged, while all foreign and impertinent
questions are rejected and laid aside.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">30</span></p>

<p>Next, this <i>mode</i> of defence <i>secures the honour
of that religion, we undertake to support</i>.
For, if we fail in our endeavours to unfold
some parts of the <i>Christian system</i>, we are but
in the condition of those, who would experimentally
investigate and clear up some difficulties
in <i>the system of nature</i>. Want of
care, or diligence, or sagacity, may subject
both the Divine and the Philosopher to some
mistakes: but either system is the same still,
and lies open to the pains and attention of
more successful inquirers. Nobody concludes
that the system of nature is not divine, because
this or that Philosopher has been led by hasty
experiments to misconceive of it. And nobody
<i>should</i> conclude otherwise of the Christian
system, though the Divine should err as much
in his scriptural comments and explications.
Whereas, when we attempt to vindicate Christianity
on principles not clearly contained in
the word of God, we act like those who form
physical theories on principles which have no
foundation in <i>fact</i>. The consequence is, That
not only the labour of <i>each</i> is lost, but the
system itself, which each would recommend,
being hastily taken for what it is unskilfully
represented to be, is vilified and disgraced.
For thus the <i>Christian system</i> has in fact been
reviled by such as have seen, or <i>would</i> only
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">31</span>
see it, through the false medium of Popish or
Calvinistical ideas: and thus the <i>system of
nature itself</i> hath, it is said, been blasphemed
by <small>ONE</small><a id="FNanchor_12" href="#Footnote_12" class="fnanchor">12</a>, who judged of it from the intricacies
of a certain astronomical hypothesis. The remedy
for this evil, is, to solve scriptural difficulties
by scriptural principles, and to account
for natural appearances by experimental observations:
and then, though the application
of each may be mistaken, the system remains
inviolate, and the honour both of God’s <span class="smcap">Word</span>
and <span class="smcap">Works</span> is secured.</p>

<p>And let thus much suffice, at present, for
the duty <i>of him, who speaketh as to wise
men</i>. Much more indeed is required to the
<i>integrity</i>, and still more to the <i>success</i>, of his
defence. But he that <i>speaketh, as the oracles
of God</i>, that is, who defends a divine Religion
on its own divine principles, does that which
is most essential to his office; and eminently
discharges the part of a <i>wise speaker</i>, since he
plans his <i>defence</i> in the best manner.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">32</span></p>

<p>II. It now remains to consider the other
part of the text, which challenges <i>the wise
men</i>, to whom the Apostle <i>spake</i>, to <small>JUDGE</small> of
what he said to them.</p>

<p>From the time, this <i>challenge</i> was given by
the learned Apostle, there never have been
wanting <i>wise men</i>, disposed and forward to
accept it. And thus far, all was well: for they
had a right to exercise this office of <i>judging
for themselves</i>, if they were, indeed, capable
of it. But have they considered, to what that
<i>capacity</i> amounts? and that much more is required
to make a good <small>JUDGE</small>, than a good
<small>SPEAKER</small>?</p>

<p>Let us briefly <i>examine</i> then the pretentions
of those, who have at all times been so ready
to sit in judgement on the Advocates for Religion,
by the known qualities of a capable
Judge: which, I think, are <i>Knowledge</i>, <i>Patience</i>,
<i>Impartiality</i>, <i>Integrity</i>, under which
last name I include <i>Courage</i>.</p>

<p>1. The first requisite in a Judge, is a competent
<i>knowledge</i> in the subject of which he
judges, without which his other qualities, how
respectable soever, are rendered useless. Nor
is this knowledge, in the present case, inconsiderable.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">33</span>
For, to say nothing of <i>sacred and
prophane Antiquity</i>, to say nothing of the
<i>Sciences</i>, and above all, the science of <i>Ethics</i>,
in its largest extent, the <i>Judge</i> of religious
controversy must be well versed, because the
<i>Advocate</i> is required to be <i>supremely</i> so, in
the great <i>principles and doctrines</i> of natural
and revealed Religion. To decide on <i>the
merits of Christianity</i>, without this knowledge,
would be as absurd, as to decide on <i>the merits
of the English jurisprudence</i>, without an acquaintance
with the <i>common law</i>, and the
<i>Statute-book</i>.</p>

<p>2. The next quality, required in a Judge,
is <i>Patience</i>; or a deliberate unwearied attention
to the arguments and representations of the
Advocate, pleading before him. This attention
is more especially expected, when the
subject in debate is important, when it is, besides,
intricate, and when the Advocate is able.</p>

<p>But these circumstances all concur, in the
case before us. If the question concerning the
truth and authority of Revelation be a cause of
any moment at all, it is confessedly of the
greatest: Again, if the scheme of Revelation
<i>be</i>, as it pretends to be, <i>divine</i>, it must require
the best application of our best faculties
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">34</span>
to comprehend it; and, lastly, as the ablest
men of all times, of every profession and denomination,
have appeared in its defence, such
advocates may demand to be heared with all
possible attention. For the Judge of such a
cause, then, to confide in his own first thoughts,
to listen negligently and impatiently, and to
precipitate his determination, must be altogether
unworthy the character he assumes.</p>

<p>3. It is expected of a Judge that he be
strictly <i>impartial</i>; that he come to the trial
of a cause without any previous bias on his
mind, or any passionate and prevailing prejudices,
in regard either to persons or things,
which may indispose him to see the truth, or
to respect it. And this turn of mind, so conducive
to a right determination in all cases, is
the more necessary here, where so many secret
prejudices are apt, without great care, to steal
in and corrupt the judgement.</p>

<p>4. The last quality, which men require in a
Judge, is an inflexible <i>Integrity</i>: such as may
infuse the virtue and the courage to give his
judgement according to his impartial sense of
things, without any regard to the consequences,
in which it may involve him. This constancy
of mind may be put to no easy trial in the
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">35</span>
present case; when the Judge’s determination
may perhaps interest his whole future conduct;
and when the censure, the scorn, and the displeasure
of numbers, and possibly of those
whom he has hitherto most considered and
esteemed, may be incurred by such determination.</p>

<p><span class="smcap">These</span> are the great essential qualities which
we look for in a <span class="smcap">Judge</span>, and which cannot be
dispensed with in a Judge of <i>Religion</i>. How
far all, or any of these qualities are to be found
in those, who take to themselves this office, I
have neither time, nor inclination, to consider.
For my purpose is not to disparage those who
have exercised the right of judging for themselves
in the great affair of Religion, nor to
discourage any man from doing himself this
justice: but simply to represent the difficulties,
that lie in our way, and the qualifications we
must possess, if we would <i>judge a righteous
judgement</i>.</p>

<p>I leave it to yourselves, therefore, to apply
these observations, as ye think fit. Ye will
conclude, however, that to <i>judge</i> of the pretentions
of your religion is no such easy task,
as that any man, without <i>parts</i>, without <i>knowledge</i>,
without <i>industry</i>, and without <i>virtue</i>,
may presume to undertake it.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">36</span></p>

<p>The sum of all I have said is, then, this.
The Apostle, when he became an Advocate for
the Gospel, condescended <i>to speak</i>, and it must
therefore be more especially the duty of its
uninspired advocates to <i>speak as to wise men</i>;
that is, to employ in its defence the powers
of reason and wisdom, of which they are capable.
But it will be remembered, too, that
much, nay <i>more</i>, is required of the <span class="smcap">Judges</span> of
it; and that they must approve themselves, not
only <i>wise</i>, but, in every <i>moral</i> sense, excellent
men, before they are qualified to pass a
final judgement on what such Advocates have
to <i>say</i> on so momentous a cause, as that of the
<span class="smcap">Christian Religion</span>.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">37</span></p>

<h2 id="SERMON_III">SERMON III.<br />

<span class="medium">PREACHED MAY 17, 1767.</span></h2>

<h3><span class="smcap">Rom.</span> ii. 14, 15.</h3>

<p><i>When the Gentiles, which have not the Law</i>,
<small>DO</small> <i>by Nature the things contained in the
Law, these, having not the Law, are a
Law unto themselves: which shew the work
of the Law written in their hearts, their</i>
<small>CONSCIENCE</small> <i>also bearing witness, and their
thoughts in the mean while</i> <small>ACCUSING</small> <i>or
else</i> <small>EXCUSING</small> <i>one another</i>.</p>

<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">The</span> scope of this chapter being to assert,
that the Gentile, as well as Jew, had a right
to be admitted into the Christian church, and
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">38</span>
that he was equally entitled to share in the
blessings of it, the Apostle grounds his argument
upon this Principle, “That, in the final
judgement, there would be no respect of
persons with God; but that Gentiles, as well
as Jews, would be recompensed in that day,
if not in the same degree, yet by the same
rule of proportion, that is, according to their
works.”</p>

<p>Whence it would follow, that, if this equal
measure was to be dealt to <i>both</i>, in the <i>future
judgement</i>, it could not seem strange if <i>both</i>
were to be admitted to the <i>present benefits and
privileges</i> of the Gospel.</p>

<p>But to keep off a conclusion so uneasy to his
inveterate prejudices, the Jew would object to
this reasoning, “That the Apostle’s assumption
must be false; for that as God had given
the Heathens no Law, they were not accountable
to him: that, as there could be
no room for Punishment, where no Law forbade,
so there could be no claim to Reward,
where no Law enjoined: and consequently,
that the Heathen world, being left without
Law, had no concern in a future recompence,
at all.”
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">39</span></p>

<p>This suggestion the Apostle obviates, by
shewing the inconsequence of it. His answer
is to this effect. You, says he, conclude, that
the Heathens are not accountable, because they
have no Law. But it no way follows, because
they had no Law extraordinarily revealed to
them from Heaven, that therefore the Heathens
had no Law, or Rule of life, at all. For these,
<i>having no</i> such <i>Law</i>, were a <i>Law unto themselves</i>;
that is, their natural reason and understanding
was their Law.</p>

<p>And, for the real existence of such natural
Law, he appeals to the virtuous <small>ACTIONS</small> of some
Heathens, <i>who</i> <small>DO</small> <i>by nature the things contained
in the Law</i>; who, besides, as it follows
in the next verse, <i>shew the work of the Law
written in their hearts, their consciences also
bearing witness, and their thoughts in the
mean while accusing or else excusing one
another</i>. In which last words are contained
two additional arguments in proof of the same
point; the <i>first</i>, taken from their own <small>CONSCIOUSNESS</small>
of such a Law; and the <i>second,
from their reasonings between one another</i>,
<small>ACCUSING</small> <i>or else</i> <small>EXCUSING</small>: for this is the
strict sense and literal construction of those
words in the original, which we improperly
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">40</span>
translate&mdash;<i>their thoughts in the mean while
accusing or else excusing one another</i><a id="FNanchor_13" href="#Footnote_13" class="fnanchor">13</a>.</p>

<p>So that in the verses of the Text we have a
<small>PROPOSITION</small> asserted; and <small>THREE</small> distinct arguments
brought in proof of it. The proposition
is, <i>that the Heathen are a Law unto
themselves</i>, or, as it is otherwise expressed,
<i>have a Law written in their hearts</i>. The arguments
in proof of it are, 1. The virtuous
lives of some heathen, <i>doing by nature the
work of the Law</i>: 2. The force of <i>conscience</i>,
testifying their knowledge of such Law: and,
3. lastly, their <i>private and judicial reasonings</i>
among themselves, referring to the confessed
authority of it.</p>

<p>In conformity to this method of the Apostle,
my business will be to open and explain the
several arguments in the order, in which they
lie; and to confirm, by that means, the truth
of his general Proposition, <i>That there is a
natural Law, or Rule of moral action, written
in the hearts of men</i>.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">41</span></p>

<p>I. The argument from the virtues of the
heathen world, in proof of a Law of nature,
<i>written in the hearts of men</i>, will seem strange
to some, who may object, “That, if the appeal
be to <i>action</i>, it may with greater reason
be inferred, there was not any such law; since
the crimes and vices of the heathen world, as
terribly set forth by St. Paul himself in the
preceding chapter, were far more notorious,
than its Virtues. So that if there be any force
in St. Paul’s appeal to the virtuous lives of
some heathen, as evincing a Law, <i>written in
their hearts</i>, because their practice was governed
by it; the like appeal to the vicious
lives of many more heathen, should seem with
still more force to prove the non-existence of
such Law, in as much as it did <i>not</i> govern
their practice.”  But the answer is obvious.
For a law may be in part, or even totally,
violated by persons under a full conviction of
its existence and obligation: whereas it is hard
to imagine, that any number of men, of different
times, in distant places, and under different
circumstances of age, temper, and education,
should exhibit in their lives the same
tenour of action, without the guidance of some
fixed and common Rule.</p>

<p>This then being observed, let us turn our
eyes upon the heathen world; on that part,
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">42</span>
more especially, which is best known to us
from the authentic monuments of Greek and
Roman story. For <i>bad</i> as that world was, it
cannot be denied to have furnished many instances
of extraordinary virtue. We find there
<i>justice</i>, <i>temperance</i>, <i>fortitude</i>, and all those
virtues, which their own Moralists called <i>Offices</i>,
and which the sacred page has dignified with
the name of <i>Graces</i>, exhibited in their fairest
forms, and emulating, as it were, even Christian
perfection<a id="FNanchor_14" href="#Footnote_14" class="fnanchor">14</a>.</p>

<p>But it will be said of <i>both</i> these people, what
was long since objected by one of them to the
other, that their actions were not so illustrious,
as is pretended; that we take the accounts of
them from their own interested relaters, to
whose vanity or genius we are rather to impute
the fine portraits, they have given us, of
pagan virtue, than to real fact and the undisguised
truth of things<a id="FNanchor_15" href="#Footnote_15" class="fnanchor">15</a>.</p>

<p>Be this allowed. Still there will be ground
enough to enforce the Apostle’s conclusion. For
whence, if not from the source to which he
points, could be derived those numerous corresponding
instances, though of faint, unfinished
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">43</span>
Virtue? how, but by <i>nature, did the
heathen</i>, in any degree, <i>the things of the Law</i>?
and whence, the traces of that conduct in
the pagan world, which the Law itself prescribed
as <i>virtuous</i>?</p>

<p>Or, were the evidence from <i>facts</i> ever so
suspicious, whence those admired portraits and
pictures themselves? or, by what accountable
means has it come to pass, that their historians
and panegyrists have been able to feign so successfully?
In truth, had the pagan world afforded
no <i>one</i> instance of a virtuous people, I
had almost said, no <i>one</i> instance of a virtuous
character, yet would the projected form of such
a people, by one hand<a id="FNanchor_16" href="#Footnote_16" class="fnanchor">16</a>, and the delineation of
such a character, by another<a id="FNanchor_17" href="#Footnote_17" class="fnanchor">17</a>, have been a certain
evidence of some Rule of life and manners,
<i>written in the heart</i>, if not transcribed into
practice; influencing the judgement to approve,
if not the will to obey it. But this consideration,
perhaps, comes more naturally under the
second head of the Apostle’s reasoning, which
is drawn,</p>

<p>II. <i>From the force of conscience in the heathen
world.</i>
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">44</span></p>

<p>To perceive the force of this argument, it
must be remembered, That, by conscience, is
only meant <i>a man’s judgement concerning the
quality of his own actions</i>; which judgement,
however come at, whether by use, or institution,
by reason, or instinct, equally supposes
some <i>Law</i>, or Rule of conduct, by which the
nature of each action is tried, and by which its
worth is estimated. Now it is of no moment
in the present case, from which soever of these
sources that judgement is <i>immediately</i> drawn,
since it cannot but be, that some fixed principle,
common to human nature, and of equal
extent with it, must have originally given birth
to such judgement. For if <i>use</i>, or <i>institution</i>,
be considered as the probable source of it, the
question will recur, whence that Use, or what
the original of that Institution? A question,
which cannot be resolved, unless we conceive
some <i>natural law</i>, as working at the root,
and branching out, as it were, into <i>Use</i>, or
<i>Institution</i>.</p>

<p>Nor is it sufficient to say, <i>That the manners
of different people are, and have been, widely
different; and that conscience, or self-judgement,
according as different notions or practices
prevail, condemns, or approves the very
same action</i>. Without doubt, it does; but the
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">45</span>
consequence is not, as some sceptical writers
have imagined, that there is no common principle
of nature, distinguishing between right
and wrong, or that moral action is of absolute
indifference; but that men are, and have been,
careless and corrupt; that they have either not
used the light of nature, or have some way
abused it. For it holds of <i>Sentiment</i>, as of <i>Action</i>,
that, though the agreement of numbers
in all times and places be a good argument <i>for</i>
the existence of some common rule of right, as
effecting such agreement (because otherwise
no tolerable account can be given of it); yet
the disagreement even of greater numbers is no
proof <i>against</i> the existence of such Rule, as
we can, without that supposition, give a satisfactory
account <i>of</i> that disagreement. I call
it <i>a satisfactory account</i>; for it comes from
St. Paul himself, who has taken care to obviate
this plausible objection. If it be said then,
<i>That the Heathen approved bad, and condemned
good actions</i>, we own they sometimes
did, but answer with the Apostle, That, in
such cases, <i>they became vain in their imaginations</i>,
and that <i>their foolish heart was
darkened</i>; that, as they <i>did not search to retain
God in their knowledge</i>, did not exert
their faculties to acquire or preserve a right
sense of God’s nature and will, <i>he gave them</i>
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">46</span>
<i>up to an unsearching mind</i>, suffered them to
darken and put out the light of their understandings,
and so to <i>do</i> [and to <i>approve</i>]
<i>things that were not convenient</i><a id="FNanchor_18" href="#Footnote_18" class="fnanchor">18</a>.</p>

<p>This being the true account of the diversity
of human judgement, such diversity only proves
that the light of nature has been misused, not,
that it was never given. Whereas, on the
other hand, if the Heathen world can shew us,
in general, a conformity of judgement in moral
matters, under their state of nature, with that
of the world, under the light of Revelation,
what follows, but that they, <i>having not the
Law, shew the work of the Law written in
their hearts</i>?</p>

<p>But now that there was, in fact, such a
conformity, we conclude from <i>the accounts of
these times, the sense of writers, and the
confessions of persons themselves</i>: the only
means, by which a point of this nature can be
established. The pagan historians and moralists
are full of such lessons, as we now profit
by: and even their poets, on the stage itself
(where <i>common</i> nature is drawn for the sake of
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">47</span>
<i>common</i> instruction) represent their characters,
for the most part, as <i>good</i> or <i>bad</i>, according to
the ideas we should now entertain of them. In
writers of all sorts, we find abundant evidence
of this truth. Numberless persons are upon
record, who confess, in their own cases, and
attest, this uniform power of conscience.
They applaud themselves for, what <i>we</i> should
call, <i>a well-spent life</i>, and they condemn
themselves for, what <i>we</i> call, <i>a bad one</i>. To
touch on a topic so known as this, is, in effect,
to exhaust it. I shall then but just point to
the great <i>Roman patriot</i><a id="FNanchor_19" href="#Footnote_19" class="fnanchor">19</a> exulting in the memory
of his <i>Virtues</i>: and to the <i>Roman governour</i><a id="FNanchor_20" href="#Footnote_20" class="fnanchor">20</a>,
so famous in sacred writ, whom the
preaching of Paul, in concurrence with his
own heart, made tremble for his <i>Vices</i>.</p>

<p>III. But if men did not feel the power of
conscience operating within themselves, and
declaring <i>a Law written in their hearts</i>, yet
their daily conduct towards each other, in the
civil concerns of life, would evidently proclaim
it. For observe how studious men are to repel
an injurious imputation, fastened on a friend;
and still more, how they labour to assert their
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">48</span>
own innocence. What pains do we see taken,
to overthrow a <i>false</i> evidence, and what colours
of art do we see employed to palliate or
disguise a <i>true</i> one! No man needs be told
that this is the constant practice of Christians:
and <i>did not the Heathens the same</i>? Here
then is a fresh proof of the point in question;
an argument of familiar evidence arising from
the transactions of common life. For, in the
altercations with each other, in reference to
<i>right</i> and <i>wrong</i>, there is manifestly supposed
some prior Law of universal reason, to which
the appeal on both sides is directed, and by
which the decision is finally to be made. And
this, as the Apostle’s argument suggests, whichever
of the contending parties be in the <i>wrong</i>:
For the charging another with <i>wrong</i> conduct,
equally implies a Rule, determining my judgement
of moral action; as the defending myself
or others from such a charge, evinces my
sense of it. Thus, whether I <i>accuse</i>, or <i>answer
for myself</i>, either way, I shew <i>a law written
in my heart</i>; whence I estimate the <i>right</i> or
<i>wrong</i> of the supposed question. Thus much
might be inferred from the ordinary topics of
<i>conversation</i>: but the case is still clearer,
when they come to be debated <i>in courts of
Justice</i>. More especially, therefore, the struggles
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">49</span>
and contentions of the <i>Bar</i> (for the terms,
employed in the text, being <i>forensic</i>, direct
us chiefly to that interpretation), a series of
civil and judiciary pleadings, such as have been
preserved to us, from heathen times, in the
writings of a Demosthenes, or Cicero, are a
standing, unanswerable argument for the existence
of a <i>Rule of Right</i>, or <i>Law of natural
reason</i>. For how should these debates be carried
on without a Rule, to which the advocates
of either party refer? or how should these
judicial differences be composed, without a
common Law, to arbitrate between them?
And what though the Law, referred to, be a
<i>written institute</i>: it was first <i>written in the
heart</i>, before legislators transcribed it on brass,
or paper.</p>

<p>You see then, the sum of the Apostle’s
reasoning stands thus. The Heathens, who
had no revealed Law, <small>DID</small> <i>by nature, the
things of the Law</i>: their <small>JUDGEMENT</small>, too, of
their own actions, conformed to the judgement
of <i>the Law</i>: and, lastly, their <small>DEBATES</small> with
one another, whether public or private, concerning
<i>right</i> and <i>wrong</i>, evidenced their
sense of some Law, which <i>Nature</i> had prescribed
to them.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">50</span></p>

<p>And in this fine chain of argument, we may
observe the peculiar art, by which it is conducted,
and the advantage, resulting from such
conduct to the main conclusion. For if the
argument from <small>WORKS</small> should seem of less
weight (as it possibly might, after the Apostle’s
own charge upon the heathen world, and in
that age of heathen corruption) yet the evidence
arising from <small>CONSCIENCE</small>, which was an
appeal to every man’s own breast, could hardly
be resisted: or, if conscience could be laid
asleep (as it might be by vice and ill habits) it
was impossible they could deny the <small>DEBATES</small>
among themselves, or not see the inference
that must needs be drawn from them.</p>

<p>It may, further, seem to have been with
some propriety that the sacred reasoner employed
these topics of argument, in an address
to <span class="smcap">Romans</span>: who could not but feel the weight
of them the more, as well knowing the ancient
<small>VIRTUE</small> of their country; as knowing too, that
the Roman people had been famous for their
nice sense of right and wrong, or, in other
words, a moral <small>CONSCIENCE</small>; and that, as
having been a free people, they had been
always accustomed to <small>DEBATES</small> about moral
action, public and private.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">51</span></p>

<p>Such is the force, and such the elegant disposition
and address, of the Apostle’s reasoning.
The conclusion follows irresistibly, <i>That there
is a Law written in our hearts, or that, besides
a Revealed Law, there is a law of natural
reason</i>.</p>

<p>That this conclusion is not injurious to <i>revealed
Law</i>, but indeed most friendly and
propitious to it; that, in particular, it no way
derogates from the honour of the <i>Christian
Law</i>, nor can serve in any degree to lessen the
value, or supersede the use and necessity of it;
I shall attempt to shew in another discourse.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">52</span></p>

<h2 id="SERMON_IV">SERMON IV.<br />

<span class="medium">PREACHED MAY 24, 1767.</span></h2>

<h3><span class="smcap">Gal.</span> iii. 19.</h3>

<p><i>Wherefore then serveth the Law?</i></p>

<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">When</span> the Apostle Paul had proved, in
his Epistle to the<a id="FNanchor_21" href="#Footnote_21" class="fnanchor">21</a>Romans, that if the <i>uncircumcision
kept the righteousness of the
Law, his uncircumcision would be accounted
for circumcision</i>; that is, if the Gentile observed
the <i>moral law</i>, which was his proper
rule of life, he would be accepted of God, as
well as the Jew, who observed the <i>Mosaic
Law</i>; this generous reasoning gave offence,
and he was presently asked, <span class="smcap">What advantage
then hath the Jew</span><a id="FNanchor_22" href="#Footnote_22" class="fnanchor">22</a>?
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">53</span></p>

<p>In like manner, when the same Apostle had
been contending, in his Epistle to the Galatians,
that <i>the inheritance was not of the
Law, but of Promise</i><a id="FNanchor_23" href="#Footnote_23" class="fnanchor">23</a>; that is, that all men,
the Gentiles as well as the Jews, were entitled
to the blessings of the Christian covenant, in
virtue of God’s <i>promise</i> to Abraham&mdash;<i>that in
his seed all the nations of the earth shall be
blessed</i>&mdash;and not the Jews exclusively, in
virtue of the <i>Mosaic Law</i>, given to them only;
the same spirit discovers itself, as before, and
he is again interrogated by his captious disciples,
<span class="smcap">Wherefore then serveth the Law?</span>
if the Gentiles may be justified <i>through faith
in Christ</i>, and so inherit the promise made to
Abraham, as well as the Jews, to what purpose
was the Jewish Law then given?</p>

<p>And to these questions, how unreasonable
soever, the learned Apostle has himself condescended
to give an answer.</p>

<p>Now, the same perverseness, which gave
birth to these Jewish prejudices, seems to have
operated in some Christians; who, on being
told, and even by St. Paul himself, of <i>a Law
of Nature</i>, by which the Heathen were required
to govern their lives, and by the observance
of which, without their knowledge of
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">54</span>
any revealed Law, they would be finally accepted,
have been forward in their turn, to
ask, <span class="smcap">Wherefore then serveth the Law?</span>
Or, if there be a <i>natural Law</i>, according to
which the very Heathen will be judged, and
may be rewarded, what are the boasted privileges
of <i>Revealed Law</i>, and, in particular,
the revealed Law <i>of the Gospel</i>?</p>

<p>Now to this question (having, in my last
discourse, asserted the proposition, which gives
occasion to it) I shall reply, in the best manner
I can, by shewing,</p>

<p>I. That the supposition of a <i>natural moral
Law</i> is even necessary to the support of <span class="smcap">Revelation</span>:
And</p>

<p>II. That this supposition no way derogates
from the honour of the <span class="smcap">Gospel</span>.</p>

<p>I. <i>That a natural moral Law is required
to support the authority of Revelation</i>, I conclude,
not merely, <i>because</i> this supposition is
actually made in sacred Scripture, <i>because</i> the
sacred writers argue expressly from it, and
every-where refer to it, but principally and
chiefly, <i>because</i>, without admitting this prior
Law of nature, we cannot judge of any pretended
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">55</span>
Revelation, whether it be divine or no.
For, if there be no such moral Law, previously
given, which our hearts and consciences approve,
and to which our common nature assents,
we can never see the fitness of any means,
as conducive to <i>a moral end</i>; we can entertain
no just and clear notions of <i>moral action</i>,
properly so called; and consequently, we can
have no ideas of what are called <i>the moral attributes</i>
of God. Now, in this state of ignorance
and uncertainty, how shall any man
go about to prove to us the divinity of any Revelation,
or through what medium can its
truth or authenticity be established? We have
no Rule, no principles, by which to judge of
the Law, pretending to come from God: we
cannot tell, whether it be worthy of him, or
not: we do not so much as know, what <i>worth</i>
or <i>goodness</i> is, either in ourselves, or in the
Deity. Thus all <i>internal arguments</i> for the
excellence of any Religion are at once cut off:
and yet till, from such considerations, we find
that a Religion <i>may</i> come from God, we cannot
reasonably conclude, on any evidence, that
it <i>does</i> come from him. The Religion of
Mahomet may, for any thing we can tell, if
there be no moral Law for us to judge by, be
as worthy of God, as that of Jesus. Nor will
any <i>external arguments</i>, even the most
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">56</span>
unquestioned miracles, of themselves, be sufficient
to confirm its pretensions. For how
shall we know, that these miracles are from
God, unless we understand what his attributes
are, and whether the occasion, for which they
are wrought, be such as is consistent with
them?</p>

<p>So that those zealous persons, who think
they do honour to the revealed will of God, by
denying him to have given prior natural Law,
do, indeed, defeat their own purpose, and put
it out of their power to judge of any Revelation
whatsoever. There is, then, a Law of Reason,
<i>written in the heart</i>, by which <i>every</i> Religion,
claiming to be divine, must be tried; or we
have no ground to stand upon in our endeavours
to support the credit and divinity of <i>any</i>
Religion.</p>

<p>What is, then, so necessary to the support
of <i>Revelation</i>, in general, cannot, we may be
sure,</p>

<p>II. <i>Any way derogate from the honour of
the Christian Revelation</i>, in particular.</p>

<p>But, to put this matter out of all doubt, I
shall distinctly shew, that the supposition of a
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">57</span>
<i>natural moral Law</i> neither discredits the <small>USE</small>;
nor tends, in the least, to supersede the <small>NECESSITY</small>,
of the Gospel.</p>

<p>And, 1. <span class="smcap">It does not discredit its use</span>.</p>

<p>For, what, if all men be endowed with those
faculties, which, if properly employed, may
instruct us in the knowledge of God and ourselves,
and of the duties we, respectively, owe
to him and to each other? Is it nothing that
this knowledge is rendered more easy and familiar
to us by the lights of the Gospel? Is it
nothing, that those laws, which men of thought
and reflexion may deduce for themselves from
principles of natural reason, are openly declared
to all: that they are confirmed, illustrated,
and enforced by express revelation? Is it of
no moment, that the plainest and busiest men
are as fully instructed in their duty, as men of
science and leisure, the simplest as well as the
wisest, the mechanic and the sage, the rustic
and philosopher? Is it of no use, that men
are kept steady in their knowledge and observance
of the law of nature, by this pole-star of
revelation? that they are secured from error
and mistake, from the effects of their own
haste, or negligence, or infirmity, from the illusions
of custom or ill example, from the false
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">58</span>
lights of fanaticism or superstition, and from
the perverseness of their own reasonings?
Look into the history of mankind, and see
what horrid idolatries have overspread the
world, in spite of what <i>Nature</i> teaches concerning
God; and what portentous immoralities
have prevailed in the wisest nations, in defiance,
nay, <i>what is worse</i>, under the countenance
and sanction, of what was deemed <i>natural
Reason</i>.</p>

<p>Add to all this, that the moral duties, we
thus easily and certainly know, and without
any danger of mistake or corruption, by means
of the evangelical Law, are enjoined by the
highest authority; are set off by the brightest
examples; are recommended to us by new arguments
and considerations; are pressed upon
us by the most engaging motives, higher and
more important than nature could suggest to
us; and, lastly, are sublimed and perfected by
the most consummate reason.</p>

<p>Still we are not got to the end of our account.
Consider, further, our natural weakness,
strengthened and assisted by the influences
of divine Grace; the doubts and misgivings
of Nature, in the momentous points of
repentance and forgiveness of sin, cleared;
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">59</span>
the true end and destination of moral agents,
discovered; a future judgement, ascertained;
and the hopes of endless unspeakable glory,
which nature could at most but desire, and
had no reason (unless that desire be, itself, a
reason) to expect, unveiled and fully confirmed
to us.</p>

<p>This, and still more, is but a faint sketch of
the advantages, which, even in point of morals,
we derive from revealed Law. Go now,
then, and say, that the light of nature, set up
in your own hearts, obscures the glory, or
<i>discredits the use</i>, of the everlasting Gospel!</p>

<p>2. But it is a low, degrading, and unjust idea
of the <i>Gospel</i>, to regard it only, as a new code
of morals, though more complete in itself,
more solemnly enacted, and more efficaciously
enforced, than the prior one of <i>nature</i>. Were
the <i>use</i> of each the same, the honour of the
Christian revelation would not be impaired, because
its <small>NECESSITY IS NOT SUPERSEDED</small>.</p>

<p>For Christianity, rightly understood, is
something, vastly above what Reason could discover
or procure for us. It confirms, incidentally,
the law of nature, and appeals to it; it
harmonizes, throughout, with that and every
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">60</span>
other prior revelation of God’s will as it could
not but do, if it were indeed derived from the
same eternal source of light and truth. But,
for all that, it is no more a simple <i>re-publication</i>
of the natural, than of any other divine
Law. It is a new and distinct revelation, that
perfects and completes all the rest. It is the
consummation of one great providential scheme,
planned before the ages, and fully executed in
due time, for the redemption of mankind from
sin and death, through the mercies of God in
Christ Jesus.</p>

<p>Now, in this view, which is that which
Christianity exhibits of its own purpose, the
scheme of the Gospel is not only of the most
transcendant <i>use</i>, as it confirms, elucidates,
and enforces the moral Law, but of the most
<small>ABSOLUTE NECESSITY</small>: I say, <i>of the most absolute
necessity</i>; in reference to the divine wisdom,
and to the condition of mankind, both
which, without doubt, if we could penetrate so
far, required this peculiar interposition of Heaven,
on principles of the highest reason, as well
as goodness. But the <i>necessity</i> is apparent even
to us, on the grounds of this very Revelation.
For its declared purpose was to rescue all men
from the power of <i>Death</i>, and to bestow upon
them immortal <i>life</i> in happiness. But, now,
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">61</span>
the same Gospel, that tells us this, tells us,
withal, that, <i>as in Adam all men died, so in</i>
<span class="smcap">Christ</span>, only, <i>shall all men be made alive</i>;
and that, <i>without the blood</i> of <span class="smcap">Christ</span>, <i>there
could be no remission</i> of the forfeiture incurred
by the transgression of Adam. You see, then,
that, to argue upon Gospel-principles (and the
fair inquirer can argue upon no other) the
Christian dispensation was <i>necessary</i> to fulfill
the purposes of God to man, and to effect that
which the divine councils had decreed in relation
to him.</p>

<p>The consequence is, that though we admit a
Law of nature, and even suppose that Law to
have been a sufficient guide in <i>morals</i>, yet the
honour of Christianity is fully secured, as it’s
<i>necessity is not superseded</i> by the law of nature,
which had not <i>the promise of eternal life</i>,
and could not have it; such promise being reserved
to manifest and illustrate the grace of
God, through the Gospel.</p>

<p>Reason may be astonished at this representation
of things, but finds nothing to oppose
to it. It looks up, in silent adoration, to that
supreme incomprehensible Power, which wills
that which is best, and orders all things with
the most perfect reason.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">62</span></p>

<p>Nor let it be any objection, that the Law of
Nature points to some just recompence of moral
agents, independently of the Christian Law.
Without doubt, it does; and, if the Gospel
had never been vouchsafed to man, the judge
of all the world would have done that which
was fit and right. But can reason, can our
own hearts, assure us, that the best of us could
stand the scrutiny of strict justice, or be entitled
to any recompense of <i>reward</i>? Or, if
our presumption answer this question in our
favour, have we the least pretence to that unspeakable
reward, solely made known and
promised in the Gospel, <i>of everlasting life</i>?
Or, if mere Heathens, who are to be judged
by their own Law, may be admitted to an
eternal inheritance of life and glory, are we sure
that this mercy (for mercy it is, and cannot be
of right) is not vouchsafed to them, through
Christ, though they may have been ignorant
of Him? or rather, are we not certain that it
must be so, since <i>eternal life</i>, on whomsoever
bestowed, <i>is the gift of God through Christ</i><a id="FNanchor_24" href="#Footnote_24" class="fnanchor">24</a>?</p>

<p>What effect the Gospel-scheme of Redemption
through Christ may have on those who
lived of old under the Law of nature or any
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">63</span>
other Law, or who since the coming of Christ
have continued in the same circumstances; it
becomes us with great caution to enquire, because
the Scriptures have not explicitly and
fully instructed us in that matter. But, from
certain expressions, occasionally dropped by
the sacred writers, such as&mdash;<i>that Christ died
for all<a id="FNanchor_25" href="#Footnote_25" class="fnanchor">25</a>; that God was in Christ reconciling
the world to himself<a id="FNanchor_26" href="#Footnote_26" class="fnanchor">26</a>&mdash;that Christ is the propitiation
for our sins, and not for ours only,
but also for the sins of the whole world</i><a id="FNanchor_27" href="#Footnote_27" class="fnanchor">27</a>;
from these, and other passages of the like nature,
we are authorised to conclude, that the
benefits of Christ’s death do extend, in <i>some
sense</i>, to all men: that, though each will be
judged by the Law he lived under, the issue of
that judgement will respect the death of Christ:
that their living again to receive the recompence
of the deeds done in the body, however
Nature might suggest this event, is, in fact,
brought about through <i>the redemption that is
in Christ</i><a id="FNanchor_28" href="#Footnote_28" class="fnanchor">28</a>: and that whatever recompence
they receive beyond what in strict justice is
due unto them, is to be placed entirely and
singly to his account. Such inferences, as
these, are apparently reasonable, and just: nor
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">64</span>
do they prejudice, in any degree, the hope and
faith of a Christian: others may have an interest
in the blood of the cross; but our privilege
is to <i>know</i> that we have it. The advantages
flowing from this knowledge, are infinite.
And therefore good reason there is to
hold, with the Apostle, that, although <i>the
living God be the Saviour of all men</i>, yet is
he <i>specially so of those that believe</i><a id="FNanchor_29" href="#Footnote_29" class="fnanchor">29</a>.</p>

<p>On the whole, then, if men will be putting
such a question to us, as that of the text,
<i>Wherefore then serveth the Law?</i> to what
end was the <i>Christian Law</i> given, if there be
a prior Law of Nature, to which men are responsible,
and by which they will be judged?
We are now prepared to give them a satisfactory
answer.</p>

<p>We say then, <i>first</i>, that the <i>Christian Law</i>,
to whatever ends <i>it serveth</i>, presupposes the
existence of a <i>prior natural Law</i>, by which
its pretensions must be tried, and, of course,
therefore, its honour is supported.</p>

<p>But, <i>secondly</i>, and more directly, we answer,
that the supposition of such natural Law
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">65</span>
no way diminishes <i>the honour of the Christian
Law</i>; for that it serves to many the most
important <small>MORAL USES</small>, over and above those
to which the Law of nature serves; and that,
further, it is of the most absolute <small>NECESSITY</small>
to the accomplishment of its own great purpose,
<i>the redemption of the world</i>, which the
Law of nature could not effect, and which the
divine wisdom ordained should only be effected
through Christ Jesus. <i>Lastly</i>, we reply, that
the benefits of the Gospel institution may,
must, in some measure, extend to all the sons
of Adam, as well as to those who are more
especially enlightened by the Christian faith:
that all mankind have an interest in the Gospel,
though we Christians are first and principally
indebted to it.</p>

<p>To conclude, whatever Law, whether we
term it of <i>nature</i>, or <i>revelation</i>, has been
given to us, we should receive with all thankfulness
and reverence. But, more especially,
should we adore the riches of God’s grace in
the revealed Law of the Gospel, and in the
singular unspeakable mercies conveyed by it.
Far from envying the Heathen world the advantages
they receive from the Law of Reason,
under which they live; let us bless God for his
impartial over-flowing goodness to all men;
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">66</span>
let us even rejoice for the benefits treasured up
for them in a merciful dispensation of which,
at present, they unhappily know nothing; and
let us only acknowledge, with especial gratitude,
the higher blessings vouchsafed to us,
who are called to <i>serve God in the Gospel of
his Son</i><a id="FNanchor_30" href="#Footnote_30" class="fnanchor">30</a>.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">67</span></p>

<h2 id="SERMON_V">SERMON V.<br />

<span class="medium">PREACHED MAY 1, 1768.</span></h2>

<h3><span class="smcap">Heb.</span> ii. 3.</h3>

<p><i>How shall we escape, if we neglect so great
Salvation?</i></p>

<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">The</span> Religion of Nature, is the Law of
God, speaking by the voice of Reason: the
Religion of the Gospel, is the Law of God,
speaking by the Revelation of Jesus. Each of
these Laws is deservedly called, <i>a great Salvation</i>:
the <i>former</i>, as the basis of all true Religion;
the <i>latter</i>, as the consummation of all
God’s religious dispensations to mankind.</p>

<p>Concerning the different purpose and genius
of these Laws, I shall not now speak; at least,
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">68</span>
no farther, than is necessary to enforce the
Apostle’s pathetic question, <i>How shall we
escape, if we neglect so great Salvation</i>; if
we neglect to observe these Laws, respectively
given to promote man’s truest happiness?</p>

<p>The world abounds in commentaries on the
Law of Nature, and on the Law of Christianity.
But the misfortune is, that most men regard the
study of these Laws, rather as an exercise of
the mind, in the way of curious speculation,
than as an interesting pursuit, which concerns
their moral and religious practice. Which is
just the same folly as would be charged on
those, who should spend their lives in studying
the municipal Laws of their country, with a
total unconcern about the observance of them
in their own persons.</p>

<p>Indeed the penal sanctions, which attend
the violation of those Laws, would presently
reclaim the student from this folly, and remind
him of the <i>end</i>, to which his skill and
knowledge in them should be principally directed.
And if, in the study of general
morals, or of revealed religion, he neglect
to refer his speculation to practice, it is only
because their penalties are less instant, or less
constraining; and not that either the Law of
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">69</span>
Nature, or the Law of the Gospel, is without
its proper and suitable sanctions.</p>

<p>I. These sanctions, as to the <i>Law of Nature</i>,
as little as they are sometimes considered, are
easily pointed out. For who, that grossly offends
against that Law, but is punished with
self-contempt; with an anxious dread of that
power, which inscribed the law on his heart,
and will, some way or other, secure the honour
of it; with a sensible diminution of his
health, or fortune, or reputation; sometimes,
with the decline of his parts and faculties;
with many uneasy and embarrassing, however
unforeseen, situations, into which his vices
lead him; with inevitable distresses, experienced
in his own person, perhaps entailed on
his posterity; in a word, sooner or later, with
a disgust of <i>this</i> life, and a trembling apprehension
of what may befall him in a <i>future</i>?</p>

<p>By these penalties, is the <span class="smcap">Law of Nature</span>
enforced: and they are such, as must soon
convince a thinking man, indeed every man,
that his true interest lies in the observance of
that Law. At the same time, it must be
owned, that this Law is strict and severe: It
punishes with rigour, and rewards sparingly.
Disobedience is certain, often intense, misery;
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">70</span>
while the most punctual compliance with it
secures but a moderate enjoyment of this life,
and so much happiness in another (if indeed
<i>any</i> happiness can be hoped for) as in strict
justice may be required.</p>

<p>Yet <i>this</i> is the Law, which many, it seems,
had rather live and dye under, than accept the
benefit of a far <small>BETTER</small>. For,</p>

<p>II. It pleased God, in compassion to his
creature, man, not to leave him under this
Law; but, by <i>a special Revelation</i> of his will,
to confer those blessings upon him, which he
had no ground in reason to expect, and no
means in nature to obtain. Hence, <i>the free
gift of immortality</i>, on the condition of obeying
a certain precept, given to Adam. The
<i>gift</i> was immense, and the <i>condition</i> easy:
but, the <i>latter</i> not being observed, the <i>former</i>
was as justly forfeited, as it had been graciously
bestowed.</p>

<p>Still, through the exhaustless mercy of the
supreme moral Governour, a way was found
out, by which unhappy man might be restored
to his lost inheritance. He returned again,
for the present, under the former yoke of Nature,
or, at best, was committed to the tuition
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">71</span>
of a rigid <i>School-master</i> (for such St. Paul
styles the ritual Law of Moses); with some
<i>hopes</i>, indeed, of a better state, to which he
was one day to be advanced; but those, darkly
intimated, and imperfectly conceived. The
divine purpose, however, was to lead him, by
this wholesome discipline, to Christ, to the
religion of his Son; who, in due time, vindicated
the honour of God’s government, by
<i>fulfilling all righteousness</i>; expiated the foul
offence of man’s disobedience by his death
upon the cross; and reconveyed the inestimable
gift of immortal life in happiness, on the new
terms of <span class="smcap">faith in the divine Saviour</span>, by
whose ministry this great work was atchieved.
Thus, Jesus became a ransom for the sins of
mankind; appearing indeed in our nature at
that season which was pre-ordained, but <i>being
slain</i> (in the divine councils, and therefore the
benefit of his death operating) <i>from the foundations
of the world</i>.</p>

<p>This is a brief account of that great redemption
in Christ Jesus, by which we are again
restored to those hopes, which had been forfeited
by Adam’s transgression. In consequence
of this dispensation, the reward of
obedience is <i>eternal Life</i>: not of debt, but
of grace, through faith in the Redeemer. But
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">72</span>
this is not all. To facilitate and secure that
<i>obedience</i> (to which so immense a benefit is
now annexed) a perfect example of it is set
before us in the person of Christ himself; and
the holy Spirit is given to the faithful, to purify
their hearts and lives, <i>and to fill them with
all joy and peace in believing</i><a id="FNanchor_31" href="#Footnote_31" class="fnanchor">31</a>. On the
other hand, the penalty of <i>disobedience</i> (what
could it be less?) is a perpetual exclusion from
bliss and glory, with such a degree of positive
suffering, annexed, as the respective demerits
of incorrigible sinners, or the sanctity and
wisdom of the divine government, may demand.</p>

<p>Add to all this, that the same scriptures,
which open to us the terms of this dispensation,
declare, likewise, that no other terms
will ever be offered; that we are <i>complete in
Christ</i><a id="FNanchor_32" href="#Footnote_32" class="fnanchor">32</a>; that all the divine councils, in regard
to man, are closed and shut up in <i>him</i>;
and that no further sacrifice remains for sin,
but that every man, henceforth, must stand or
fall by the terms of the everlasting Gospel.&mdash;<i>How
then shall we escape, if we neglect so
great Salvation?</i>
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">73</span></p>

<p>III. Still, as I said, there are those, who
had rather trust to the Law of Nature, than the
Law of Grace; who had rather take their chance
of being saved by the rule of their own Reason,
than owe their Salvation to the methods prescribed
to them by the rule of the Gospel.</p>

<p>Their pretences for this perverse choice, are
various: but the true reason, I suppose, is,
that the dispensation of the Gospel, though it
be unspeakably more benign, more gracious,
more encouraging to the good and virtuous, is,
at the same time, more awful, more terrifying,
to resolved impenitent sinners, than the
dispensation of Nature: and they are content
to give up their hopes of that immortal prize,
which the revelation of Jesus holds out to them,
rather than encounter the hazard of that severe
sentence, which attends the forfeiture
of it.</p>

<p>Be it so then: ye had rather forego the hopes
of heaven, than have your minds disquieted
with the fear of hell.</p>

<p>But, <i>first</i>, do ye not see, that there is something
base and abject in this disposition? For
what generous man will not aspire to an immense
reward, which Heaven, in extreme kindness,
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">74</span>
may be almost said to force upon him,
because there may be danger in coming short
of it? “Yes, but the danger is immense, too.”
Rather say, the loss is immense: the danger
of incurring this loss, is not so. For what,
indeed, is the danger, when Heaven is your
guide, and a crown of glory your hope; when
ye have God’s word to assure you of the prize,
ye contend for; when ye have the holy Spirit
of God to assist you in the pursuit; when ye
have the Son of God, your all-merciful Saviour
himself, to be your Judge, and the dispenser of
that prize to you; when, with all these encouragements
on the one hand, ye are, besides,
quickened by a salutary fear of justice, on the
other; and when all that is required of yourselves
is, a reasonable faith, a willing mind,
and a sincere, though, in many respects, imperfect
obedience? Is the danger to be much
esteemed, when the helps are so great, when
the labour is so small, and the success almost
certain? But,</p>

<p><i>Secondly</i>, Consider, also, whether ye do not
even prevaricate with yourselves, when ye say,
ye had rather take up with a less reward, than
run the hazard of so great a punishment. Ye
certainly resolve not to contend for any reward
at all, not even for the reward of Nature. If
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">75</span>
ye did, ye might with more ease, as well as
certainty, obtain that of the Gospel. For
whether is easier, think ye, to obtain a gift
from infinite mercy, or to extort a debt from
infinite justice?</p>

<p>But, <i>Lastly</i>, the matter is not left to your
choice. When God, in his wisdom, had projected
a scheme for the salvation of mankind
before the ages; when he had prosecuted that
scheme by many successive revelations of himself,
by many notices and preparatory indications
of his good pleasure; when he had
separated a chosen family from the rest of the
world, to serve as a repository of his councils,
and to minister to himself in the execution of
them; when he had sent forth his angels to
assist in this great work, and had inspired many
prophets and holy men to signify, beforehand,
the glories of a new kingdom which he meant
to establish on earth, and to prepare men for
the reception of it; when, after all these preludes
of his wisdom and goodness, he came,
in due time, to astonish the world with the
completion of this adorable scheme, by sending
forth his only begotten Son, the express
image of his person, to take upon him our nature,
to suffer and to die for us; and, by
raising up Apostles and Evangelists, under the
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">76</span>
guidance of his holy Spirit, to record these
amazing transactions; and, by the attestation
of stupendous miracles, to spread the knowledge
of them over the face of the earth: when
this, I say, and more, had been done by the
Almighty to usher in his last best dispensation
into the world, think not, that all this mighty
apparatus was to be thrown away on our caprice
or obstinacy; and that, after all, we may be
at liberty to reject his whole design, or take as
much, or as little of it, as our wayward fancies
shall suggest to us. No: assuredly the councils
of Heaven will stand firm, whatever attempts
we may make, in our wisdom, or weakness,
to subvert them. As well may we think
to overturn the everlasting mountains, or push
the earth itself from its centre, as to defeat or
set aside one tittle of that <i>eternal purpose,
which God hath purposed in Christ Jesus</i><a id="FNanchor_33" href="#Footnote_33" class="fnanchor">33</a>.
To whomsoever the sound of the Gospel is
come, whether he will hear, or not hear, by
that Gospel he must stand or fall: he is, thenceforth,
<i>under the bond of the Covenant</i>:
through faith in Jesus, he inherits the <i>promises</i>;
or, if he withhold his faith, it is not at his
option to have no concern in the <i>threats</i> of the
Gospel.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">77</span></p>

<p>I know what is commonly said to representations
of this sort&mdash;“That <i>Faith</i> depends not
on the <i>will</i>, but on the <i>understanding</i>: that,
when the evidence for the truth of any proposition
is full and clear, it constrains my assent;
when it is otherwise, I reject the proposition,
as false, or, at best, suspend my belief of it;
and, in either case, as without merit, so without
blame: that no Law is obligatory to me,
any farther than I see cause to admit the authority
of it; and that no pretence of its divine
original can subject me to the sanctions of it,
unless, on my best inquiry, I allow that claim
to be well founded: that, consequently, the
Law of Christianity cannot concern him, who
is not convinced of its truth; that, where
this conviction is not, disbelief must be a
matter purely indifferent: and that <i>He</i> only is
responsible to that Law, who understands it to
be his duty to be controuled and governed by
it.”</p>

<p>This reasoning is plausible; and has many
advocates, because it flatters the pride and independency
of the human mind.&mdash;But, when
a Law is promulged with that evidence, which
the <i>divine Legislator</i> (for of <i>such</i> I am now
speaking) sees to be sufficient for the conviction
of a reasonable man, it is concluding too fast,
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">78</span>
to suppose, that I am innocent in rejecting it;
or that I am not bound by it, though I do reject
it. Error, or unbelief, is only indifferent,
when it is perfectly involuntary or invincible;
but there is clearly no room for this plea in the
present case, when, by the supposition, there
is no want of fit evidence.</p>

<p>Even in the case of <i>human</i> Laws, my rejection
of them may be blameable, though I neither
admit the <i>authority</i> nor the <i>equity</i> of the
laws themselves. For there <i>may</i> be evidence
enough of <i>both</i>, if I will but attend to it. Now
put the case of a <i>divine</i> Legislator; and what
was <i>supposeable</i>, becomes <i>certain</i>. For the attributes
of the Deity will permit no doubt, but
that, when he gives a Law to man, he will afford
such proofs of it, as may, in reason, satisfy
those, to whom it is addressed. So that their
rejection of it can only proceed from some
neglect or wilfulness, on their own part, and
not from the want of a sufficient attestation, on
the part of the Legislator.</p>

<p>Ye see then, there is no absurdity in supposing
the Law of Christianity to oblige those,
who do not receive it: for if that Law be of
God (and we argue now upon that hypothesis)
the evidence for it must be such as is suited to
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">79</span>
our faculties; and being addressed, as the tenor
of it shews, to all mankind, it binds of course
all those to whom that evidence has been submitted.</p>

<p>And this indeed is the very language of that
Law itself. For the Jews disbelieved the Gospel,
when it was preached to them by our
blessed Lord. But what says the Legislator to
these unbelievers? Does he leave them to the
Law of Nature, whose authority they did not
dispute, or to the Law of Moses, which God
himself, they knew, had given them? No
such thing: he tells them, that very Law,
which they rejected, should <i>judge</i> them. “He,
that rejecteth me, and receiveth not my
words, hath one that judgeth him: the
<small>WORD</small>, that I have spoken, the same shall
judge him in the last day<a id="FNanchor_34" href="#Footnote_34" class="fnanchor">34</a>.” And he assigns
the reason of this determination&mdash;“For I
have not spoken of myself; but the Father,
which sent me, he gave me a commandment,
what I should say, and what I should speak:”
that is, the Law, I give you, is of <i>divine authority</i>;
and therefore not to be rejected
without blame on any pretence by you, to
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">80</span>
whom the knowledge of it, and the proper
evidence on which it rests, has been committed.</p>

<p>These reflexions, I know, have small weight
with those, who treat the evidences of the Gospel
with that scorn, which is familiar to some
men. But such persons should, at least, see
that their scorn be well founded. If not&mdash;but
I will only say, they may subject themselves,
for aught they know, to the penalties of the
Gospel; I mean, to the future judgement of
<i>that man, whom</i>, in this life, <i>they would not
have to reign over them</i><a id="FNanchor_35" href="#Footnote_35" class="fnanchor">35</a>.</p>

<p>But this remonstrance is properly addressed
to those <i>that are without</i>, to the contemners
of the Christian Law. To <small>YOU</small>, who are within
the pale of Christ’s Church, and acknowledge
his authority; who profess yourselves to be his
servants; who admit no other Law, but in
subjection to his, and have no expectation of
life and glory from any other; to <small>YOU</small>, I say,
the question of the text is above measure interesting,
<i>How shall we escape, if we neglect
so great Salvation?</i>
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">81</span></p>

<p>Compassion, and prudence, and charity may
restrain you from censuring with severity the
enemies of the faith; may dispose you to overlook,
or to soften at least, the alarming denunciations
of the Gospel, in which they are
concerned. But for <small>YOURSELVES</small>, who have
given your names to Christ, and have hope
in him only; who know the wonders of
mercy that have been wrought for you, and
were finally completed on that cross, which is
your trust and consolation, your pride and
glory, it is almost needless to say what <i>your</i>
interest, and what <i>your</i> obligation is, to observe,
respect, and reverence the dispensation
of the Gospel. <i>Ye</i> are self-condemned, if ye
slight this Law: ye are ungrateful, up to all
the possibilities of guilt, if ye make light of it:
ye are undone for ever, if <i>ye neglect so great
Salvation</i>.</p>

<p>What allowances it may please God to make
for the prejudices, the passions, the slights,
the blasphemies of unthinking and careless
men, who have never embraced the faith of
Jesus, it may not, perhaps, concern you to
inquire. But ye know, that ye are responsible
to that Law, which ye profess, and to that
master, whom ye serve; that to you, indifference
is infidelity; and disobedience, treason;
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">82</span>
that wilful unrepented sin in a Christian is
without hope, as without excuse, shuts him
out from all the rewards, and exposes him,
even with his own full consent to all the punishments
of the Gospel.</p>

<p>In a word, as their <i>joy is great in believing</i>,
who obey the Gospel of Christ; so the guilt
and the terror is proportionably great, to disobedient
believers. For, dreadful as <i>unbelief</i>
may prove in the issue to such as, through
their own fault, have not come to the knowledge
of Christ, <i>Belief</i>, without obedience, is
more dreadful still. I have an apostle’s warrant
for this assertion. <i>For it had been better
for us not to have known the way of righteousness,
than, after we have known it, to turn
from the holy commandment delivered unto us<a id="FNanchor_36" href="#Footnote_36" class="fnanchor">36</a>.</i>
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">83</span></p>

<h2 id="SERMON_VI">SERMON VI.<br />

<span class="medium">PREACHED NOVEMBER 16, 1766.</span></h2>

<h3>St. <span class="smcap">John</span>, xiv. 8.</h3>

<p><i>Philip saith to him, Lord, shew us the Father,
and it sufficeth us.</i></p>

<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">Our</span> Lord, being now about <i>to depart out
of the world</i><a id="FNanchor_37" href="#Footnote_37" class="fnanchor">37</a>, prepares his disciples for this
unwelcome event by many consolations and
instructions. He acquaints them, more particularly
than he had hitherto done, with his
own <i>personal dignity</i>. He tells them, that,
<i>as they believed in God, they were also to
believe in him</i><a id="FNanchor_38" href="#Footnote_38" class="fnanchor">38</a>; and that, although he should
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">84</span>
shortly leave them, it was only to remove from
Earth to Heaven, to his <i>Father’s house</i>, where
he should more than ever be mindful of their
concerns, <i>and whither I go</i>, says he, <i>to prepare
a place for you</i><a id="FNanchor_39" href="#Footnote_39" class="fnanchor">39</a>. And, to impress this
<i>belief</i> (so necessary for their future support
under his <i>own</i>, and <i>their</i> approaching sufferings)
the more strongly upon them, He declares,
in the most authoritative manner, <i>that
he</i>, only, <i>was the Way, the Truth, and the
Life; and that no man could come to the
Father, but by him</i><a id="FNanchor_40" href="#Footnote_40" class="fnanchor">40</a>. Nay, to shew them
how great his interest was, and how close his
union, with the Father, he even adds, <i>If ye
had known me, ye should have known my
Father also; and from henceforth</i>, continues
he, <i>ye know him, and have seen him</i><a id="FNanchor_41" href="#Footnote_41" class="fnanchor">41</a>.</p>

<p>This last declaration seemed so strange to
his disciples, who had no notion of <i>seeing the
Father</i> in our Lord’s suffering state, or indeed
through any other medium, than that of those
triumphant honours, which their carnal expectations
had destined to him, that one of
them, the Apostle <i>Philip, saith to him, Lord,
shew us the Father, and it sufficeth us</i>. As
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">85</span>
if he had said, “We know thee be a person
of great holiness, and have seen many wonderful
things done by thee; so that we cannot
doubt but that thou art a prophet sent
from God, for some great end and purpose
of his providence. But if thy pretensions
go so far as to require us <i>to believe in Thee,
as in the Father</i>; if we are to conceive
of Thee, as the only <i>Life</i> of the world; of
so great authority with God, as to procure
<i>mansions</i> in heaven for thy disciples; nay,
of so great dignity in thine own person, as
to challenge the closest <i>union</i> and communication
with the eternal Father; if, indeed,
we are to believe such great things of thee,
it is but reasonable, as thou sayest; that, <i>in
knowing and seeing thee, we also know and
see the Father</i>; that we have the clearest
and most unquestioned proofs of thy divinity.
<i>Shew us</i>, then, <i>the Father</i>; make us see the
glorious symbols of his presence; present us
with <i>such</i> irresistible demonstrations of his
power and greatness, as were vouchsafed to
our Fathers, at the giving of the Law; <i>such</i>,
as strike conviction on the senses, and overrule
all doubt and distrust in so high a
matter; <i>shew us</i>, I say, <i>the Father</i>, in this
sense, <i>and it sufficeth</i> to our persuasion and
firm belief in thee.”
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">86</span></p>

<p>We see, in this conduct of the Apostle
Philip, a natural picture of those inquirers
into the truth of our religion; who, because
they have not the highest possible evidence
given them of it, (at least, not that evidence,
which they account the <i>highest</i>) are tempted,
if not absolutely to reject the faith, yet to entertain
it with a great mixture of doubt and suspicion.
“If Christianity, say they, were what
it pretends to be, the arguments for it would
be so decisive, that nothing could be opposed
to them; if it were, indeed, of God,
the proofs of its claim had been such and so
many, that no scepticism could have taken
place, no infidelity, at least, could have kept
its ground, against the force of them.”</p>

<p>When this wild fancy comes to take possession
of men’s minds, the whole tenour of
God’s dispensations is quarrelled with, and
disputed: every circumstance in our Lord’s
history looks suspicious: and every <i>fact</i>, applied
to the confirmation of our holy faith,
rises into a presumption against it.</p>

<p><i>The word of Prophecy</i> has not been so clear
and manifest, as it might have been: <i>therefore</i>,
the proofs taken from it are of no validity.
The miracles of Christ were not so public or so
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">87</span>
illustrious as might be conceived: <i>therefore</i>,
they are no evidence of his divine mission.
The scene of his birth and actions might have
been more conspicuous: <i>therefore</i>, the light
of the world could not proceed from that
quarter. The Gospel itself was not delivered
in that <i>manner</i>, nor by those <i>instruments</i>,
which they esteem most fit; its <i>success</i> in the
world has not been so great, nor its <i>effects</i> on
the lives of men, so salutary, as might have
been expected: <i>therefore</i>, it could not be of
divine original.</p>

<p>But there is no end of enumerating the instances
of this folly. Let me observe, in one
word, that the greater part of the objections,
which weak or libertine men have opposed to
the authority of revealed Religion, are of the
same sort with the demand in the text. The
authors of them first <i>imagine</i> to themselves,
what evidence would be the most convincing;
and then refuse their <i>assent</i> to any other.
Their constant language is that of the Apostle
Philip&mdash;<i>shew us the Father, and it sufficeth
us</i>.</p>

<p>Now, to see how little force there is in this
sort of argumentation, let it be considered,
that such high demands of evidence for the
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">88</span>
truth of the Christian revelation, are <small>IMPERTINENT</small>,
at the best; that they are, most <i>probably</i>,
on the part of the revealer, <small>IMPROPER</small>
to be complied with; that they <i>must</i> be, on the
part of man, <small>PRESUMPTUOUS</small>, and unwarrantable.</p>

<p>I. All demands of this sort are clearly <i>impertinent</i>,
and beside the purpose of a fair
inquirer into the authority of a divine Religion.
For the question is, whether such religion be
not accompanied with that <i>evidence</i>, which is
sufficient to determine the assent of a reasonable
man; not, whether it be the highest in
its kind, or in its <i>degree</i>, which might be
imagined. There is an infinite variety, and,
as we may say, gradation in the scale of moral
evidence, from the highest forms of <i>demonstration</i>
down to the lowest inducements of <i>probability</i>.
The impatient mind of man, which
loves to rest in assurance, may demand the
former of these in every case: but the just and
sober inquirer, whatever he may wish for, will
submit to the <i>latter</i>. He takes the argument,
as presented to him; he weighs the moment
of it; and if, on the whole, it preponderates,
though but by some scruples of probability,
against the inductions on the other side, he is
determined by this evidence, with as good
reason, though not with as much assurance, as
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">89</span>
by demonstration itself. His business, he
knows, is to examine whether the conclusion
be justly drawn, not whether it be irresistibly
forced upon him. It is enough, if the proof
be such as <i>merits</i> his assent, though it should
not <i>compel</i> it.</p>

<p>Apply, now, this universal rule of just
reasoning to the case of the <i>Gospel</i>. Consider
it on the footing of that evidence, which it
pretends to offer. If this evidence be weak
and inconclusive in itself, let it be rejected.
But, if it be sufficient to the purpose for
which it is given, why look out for any <i>higher</i>?
The pretensions of Christianity are, indeed,
very great. It claims to be received by us, as
the <i>work and word of God</i>. The proofs of
its being such should, no doubt, be adapted
to the nature of these pretensions. If, in fact,
they be so adapted, all further attestations of
its truth, all stronger demonstrations of its divinity
(supposing there might be stronger) are,
at least, <i>unnecessary</i>: our demands of them
are without ground, and without reason: that
is, they are clearly <i>not to the purpose</i> of this
inquiry. But</p>

<p>II. The <i>impertinence</i> of these demands, is
not all. There is good reason to believe, that
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">90</span>
they are, in themselves, absolutely unfit and
<small>IMPROPER</small> to be complied with.</p>

<p>In saying this, I do not only mean that the
<i>evidence</i>, such men call for, is so far mistaken
as to be really of an inferior sort, and less convincing
to a well-informed mind, than that
which they reject. This, no doubt, is very
frequently the case. It has been shewn in
many instances, and even to the conviction of
the objector himself, that such circumstances
as have been thought most suspicious, such
proofs as have appeared the weakest, have upon
inquiry turned out, of all others, the strongest
and most satisfactory. For example, they who
object to the <i>mean instruments</i>, by which the
Christian Religion was propagated, are confuted
by the Apostle Paul himself; who has shewn
<i>that very circumstance</i> to be the clearest proof
of its divinity; this method of publishing the
Gospel having been purposely chosen, <i>that our
faith should not stand in the wisdom of men,
but in the power of God</i><a id="FNanchor_42" href="#Footnote_42" class="fnanchor">42</a>. And the same
answer will equally serve to many other pretences
of the like nature.</p>

<p>But, as I said, my intention is not, at present,
to expose the common mistake of preferring
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">91</span>
a <i>weaker</i> evidence to a <i>stronger</i>. Let
it be allowed, that the evidence required is, in
fact, the <i>stronger</i>. Still there is reason to think
that <i>such</i> evidence was not <i>proper</i> to be given.
And I argue, <i>from the nature of the thing</i>;
and <i>from the genius of the Gospel</i>.</p>

<p>1. In <i>the nature of the thing</i> it seems not
reasonable that a divine revelation should be
obtruded upon men by the highest possible
evidence. This would be to <i>constrain</i> their
assent, not to <i>obtain</i> it: and the very essence
of religion consists in its being a <i>willing</i>, as well
as <i>reasonable</i> service.</p>

<p>Or, take the matter thus. On supposition
that it should please God to address himself to
man, it is to be presumed he would treat him
<i>as</i> man; that is, in a way, which is suitable
to <i>the whole of his nature</i>. But <i>man</i> is not
only an <i>intelligent</i> being, that is, capable of
discerning the force of evidence, and of being
determined by it: he is, also, a <i>moral</i> being,
that is, capable of making a right or wrong use
of his liberty. Now put the case of an overpowering,
irresistible evidence, and his <i>understanding</i>
is convinced, indeed; but the <i>will</i>,
that other and better half of his composition,
the spring of liberty and of virtue, this, with
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">92</span>
all the energies depending upon it, is untouched,
and has no share in the operation. On the
other hand, let the evidence submitted to him
be such only as may satisfy his reason, if attentively,
if modestly, if virtuously employed,
and you see the whole man in play: his <i>intellectual</i>
powers are considered, and his <i>moral</i>
faculties, the faculties of a <i>wise and understanding
heart</i>, applied to and exerted.</p>

<p>It seems, then, that, if a Revelation were
given to man, it would most probably, and
according to the best views we can form of the
divine conduct, be given in this way; that is,
in such a way, as should make it, at once, the
proper object of his <i>faith</i>, and the test, I had
almost said the reward, of his <i>merit</i>.</p>

<p>And such, we may observe, is the sense of
mankind in other instances of God’s government.
Who complains, that the ordinary blessings
of Heaven, the conveniences and accommodations
of life, are not ready furnished and
prepared to his hands? Who does not think
it sufficient, to our use and to God’s glory, that
we have the powers requisite to prepare them?
Why then expect this greatest of God’s blessings,
a <i>divine Revelation</i>, to be made cheap
in being forced upon us, whether we will or no,
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">93</span>
by an <i>evidence</i>, which silences reason, rather
than employs it; and precludes the exercise of
the noblest faculties, with which our nature is
invested?</p>

<p>2. Thus, <i>the reason of the thing</i> affords a
presumption (I mean, if men will reason at all
on such matters), that these high demands in
religion are unfit to be complied with. But
we shall argue more safely, in the next place,
from <i>the</i> <span class="smcap">genius and declarations of the
Gospel</span>.</p>

<p>From the tenour of the Gospel-revelation we
learn, that, though a <i>reasonable evidence</i> be
afforded of its truth, yet the author and publishers
of it were by no means solicitous to force
it on the minds of men by an <i>unnecessary and
irresistible evidence</i>.</p>

<p>We see this in the conduct of our Lord
himself, who refused to gratify the curiosity
both of friends and foes by needless <i>explanations</i><a id="FNanchor_43" href="#Footnote_43" class="fnanchor">43</a>,
or supernumerary <i>miracles</i><a id="FNanchor_44" href="#Footnote_44" class="fnanchor">44</a>. We see
it, further, in his general method of speaking
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">94</span>
by <i>Parables</i><a id="FNanchor_45" href="#Footnote_45" class="fnanchor">45</a>; which are so contrived as to instruct
the attentive and willing hearer, but not
the prejudiced or indifferent. Nay, when some
of his parables were so obscure as that they might
seem to require an explanation, he did not
always vouchsafe to give it before the people,
but reserved the exposition of them for <i>his
disciples, in private</i><a id="FNanchor_46" href="#Footnote_46" class="fnanchor">46</a>. <i>To them</i>, only, <i>it
was given to know the mysteries of the kingdom
of heaven</i>: others, were left to their own
interpretation of his <i>Parables</i><a id="FNanchor_47" href="#Footnote_47" class="fnanchor">47</a>.</p>

<p>This proceeding of Christ plainly shews that
he was not anxious to <i>instruct</i> or <i>convince</i> in
that <i>way</i>, which might appear the most <i>direct</i>
and <i>cogent</i>. It seems, on the contrary, to
have been his choice to afford the strongest
proofs of his mission and the clearest views of
his doctrine to <i>those</i>, not whose incredulity
needed his assistance most, but <i>who</i>, by their
good dispositions and moral qualities, deserved
it<a id="FNanchor_48" href="#Footnote_48" class="fnanchor">48</a>. He thought not fit <i>to cast pearls before
swine</i><a id="FNanchor_49" href="#Footnote_49" class="fnanchor">49</a>; and, as contrary as it may be to our
forward expectations, it was a rule with him,
that <i>he that hath, to him it should be given</i><a id="FNanchor_50" href="#Footnote_50" class="fnanchor">50</a>.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">95</span></p>

<p>That this was the genius of the Gospel, we
further learn from the stress, which is laid on
<i>Faith</i>. It is everywhere demanded as a previous
qualification in the aspirants to this religion;
it is everywhere spoken of as the highest
moral virtue: a representation, strange and
impossible to be accounted for, if men were to
be borne down by the weight of <i>evidence</i>
only.</p>

<p>But, to put the matter out of all doubt, we
have it declared to us in express words, that
those converts are the most acceptable to Christ,
who receive his religion, on a reasonable, indeed,
but inferiour evidence. When the Apostle
Thomas expressed his belief, on the evidence
of <i>sense, Jesus saith unto him, Thomas,
because thou hast seen me, thou hast believed:
blessed are they that have not seen, and yet
have believed</i><a id="FNanchor_51" href="#Footnote_51" class="fnanchor">51</a>.</p>

<p>Now, whatever occasion prophane men may
take from this account of Gospel-evidence to
calumniate the divine Author of our Faith, as
though he relied more on the <i>credulity</i>, than
the <i>conviction</i> of his followers; whatever perverse
use, I say, some men may be disposed
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">96</span>
to make of this circumstance; one thing, I
suppose, is clear, “That the genius of the
Gospel does, in fact, discountenance their
<i>high demands</i> of evidence.” So that, taking
the Christian religion for <i>what it is</i> (and for
<i>such</i> only, the rules of good reasoning oblige
us to take it) it is very certain that no man is
authorized to expect other or stronger proofs
of its divinity than have been given. On the
contrary, such proofs, as men account stronger,
could only serve to weaken its evidence, and
overthrow its pretensions.</p>

<p>III.  Lastly, Though no <i>distinct reason</i> could
have been opposed to these high expectations
in religion, yet common sense would have seen,
“That they are, <i>in general</i>, <small>PRESUMPTUOUS
AND UNWARRANTABLE</small>.”</p>

<p>For what man, that thinks at all, but must
acknowledge that sacred truth, <i>that God’s
ways are not as our ways</i><a id="FNanchor_52" href="#Footnote_52" class="fnanchor">52</a>; and that it is the
height of mortal folly to prescribe to the Almighty?
<i>What man is he that can know the
council of God? Or, who can think what the
will of the Lord is?&mdash;Hardly do we guess
aright at things that are upon the earth, and</i>
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">97</span>
<i>with labour do we find the things that are
before us: but the things that are in heaven
who hath searched out<a id="FNanchor_53" href="#Footnote_53" class="fnanchor">53</a>?</i></p>

<p>Such passages as these have, I know, been
sometimes brought to insult and disgrace <span class="smcap">Reason</span>,
when employed the most soberly, and in
her proper office. But I quote them for no such
purpose. I mean not to infer from these testimonies,
that we are not competent judges of
the evidence which is laid before us (for why,
then, was it offered?); but, that reason cannot
tell us, <i>what</i> evidence it was fit for Heaven
to give of its own councils and revelations. We
may conjecture, <i>modestly</i> conjecture, without
blame. Nay the wisest and best men, and
even angels themselves, have a reasonable <i>desire
to look into</i> these things: and their <i>speculations</i>,
if duly governed, are, no doubt,
commendable and useful. But we are not,
upon this pretence, to dogmatize on such
matters. Much less, may we take upon us to
reject a <i>well-attested</i> Revelation, a Revelation,
that bears many characteristic marks, many
illustrious signatures and impresses of divinity,
because this or that circumstance, attending it,
does not accord to our narrow views and shallow
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">98</span>
surmises. In short, men would do well
to remember that it is no less a maxim of <i>reason</i>
than of Scripture, <i>that the things of God,
knoweth no man but the Spirit of God</i><a id="FNanchor_54" href="#Footnote_54" class="fnanchor">54</a>: a
<i>maxim</i>, we should never lose sight of, a moment,
in our religious inquiries.</p>

<p>But this, though an <i>important</i> consideration,
is a common one, and I pursue it no
farther. Let it suffice to have shewn, “That
when, in matters of religion, men indulge
themselves in <i>fancying</i> what evidence would
have been most convincing to them, and then
erect such fancies into <i>expectations</i>, they are,
at best, employed very <i>idly</i>:”</p>

<p>“That the worthiest apprehensions, we can
frame of the divine wisdom, and both the genius
and letter of the Christian religion, discountenance
these expectations, as <i>improper
and unreasonable</i> to be complied with:”</p>

<p>And, “that, from the slightest acquaintance
with ourselves, we must needs confess them to
be <i>presumptuous</i>.”</p>

<p>The <small>USE</small> to be made of the whole is, <i>that
men think soberly, as they ought to think</i><a id="FNanchor_55" href="#Footnote_55" class="fnanchor">55</a>;
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">99</span>
and that, if ever their restless curiosity, or
some worse principle, impells them to make
the demand in the text, <i>shew us the Father</i>,
they repress the rising folly by this just reflexion,
that they have no right, in their sense
of the word, <i>to see the Father</i>.</p>

<p>Not but his infinite goodness hath vouchsafed
to unveil himself so far, as is abundantly
sufficient to our conviction. But then we must
be content to <i>see him</i> in that light, in which
he has been graciously pleased to <i>shew</i> himself,
not in that <i>unapproachable light</i><a id="FNanchor_56" href="#Footnote_56" class="fnanchor">56</a> in which
our madness requires to have him <i>shewn</i> to
us.</p>

<p>The evidences of Christianity are not dispensed
with a penurious hand: but they lie
dispersed in a very wide compass. They result
from an infinite number of considerations,
each of which has its weight, and all together
<i>such</i> moment, as <i>may be</i>, but is not easily resisted.
To collect and estimate these, much
labour and patience is to be endured; great
parts of learning and genius are required; above
all, an upright and pure mind is demanded.
If, conscious of our little worth or ability, we
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">100</span>
find ourselves not equal to this task, let us
adore in silence, and with that humility which
becomes us. To call out for light, when we
have enough to serve our purpose, is indeed
<i>foolish</i>: but to make this noisy demand, when
we have previously blinded our eyes, or have
resolved to keep them shut, is something <i>more</i>
than folly.</p>

<p>After all, there is one way, in which the
meanest of us may be indulged in the high
privilege of <small>SEEING</small> <i>the Father</i>, at least, in
the <i>express image</i> of his Son. It is, by keeping
the commandments. <i>He that hath my commandments,
and keepeth them</i>, says our Lord
himself, <i>I will love him, and will</i> <small>MANIFEST</small>
<i>myself to him</i><a id="FNanchor_57" href="#Footnote_57" class="fnanchor">57</a>. In other words, he will see
and acknowledge the <i>truth</i> of our divine religion.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">101</span></p>

<h2 id="SERMON_VII">SERMON VII.<br />

<span class="medium">PREACHED IN THE YEAR 1771.</span></h2>

<h3>St. <span class="smcap">James</span>, iv. 1.</h3>

<p><i>From whence come wars and fightings among
you? Come they not hence, even of your
lusts that war in your members?</i></p>

<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">Interpreters</span> have observed, that these
questions refer to the state of things, which
then took place among the Jews, when this
epistle was addressed to them. For, about
that time, they had grievous <i>wars and fightings</i>
among themselves; every city, and every family,
almost, of this devoted people, not only
in Judea, but in many other countries, through
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">102</span>
which they were <i>scattered abroad</i>, being miserably
distracted and torn asunder by civil
and domestic factions.</p>

<p>This application, then, of the Apostle’s words
to the Jews of his own time, seems a just one.
But we need look no further for a comment
upon them, than to that <i>hostile</i> spirit, which
too much prevails, at all times, and under all
circumstances, even among Christians themselves.</p>

<p>The root of this bitterness, we are told, is
in <i>the lusts, that war in our members</i>: that
is, there is, first, an insurrection of our carnal
appetites against the law of our minds; and,
then, the contagion spreads over families,
neighbourhoods, and societies; over all those,
in short, with whom we have any concern, till
the whole world, sometimes, becomes a general
scene of contention and disorder.</p>

<p>For, ask the princes of this world, what
prompts them to disturb the peace of other
states, and to involve their subjects in all the
horrors of war; and their answer, if they deign
to give one, and if it be ingenuous, must,
commonly, be, <i>their lust of conquest and dominion</i>.
Ask the servants of those princes,
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">103</span>
what splits them into parties and factions; and
they can hardly avoid answering, or we can
answer for them, <i>their lust of wealth and
power</i>. Ask the people, at large, and under
whatever denomination, what occasions their
contempt of authority, their disobedience to
magistrates, their transgressions of law, their
cabals and tumults, their hatred, defamation, and
persecution of each other; and charity herself,
for the most part, can dictate no other reply
for them to this question, than that they are
excited to all these excesses by <i>the lust of riot</i>
and misrule, or, of, what they call, <small>LIBERTY</small>.</p>

<p>But there is no end of pursuing this subject
in all its applications to particular instances.
What we have most reason to lament, is, that
Christians not only <i>fight</i> with each other, at
the instigation of their <i>lusts</i>, for their own
carnal and corrupt ends; but that they make
the very <i>means</i>, which God has appointed to
compose these differences, the instruments of
their animosity, and become outrageous in
their hostile treatment of each other, by the
perversion of those <i>principles</i>, which were intended
to be its restraint. For if any thing
could appease this tumult among men, what
more likely to do it, than the <i>administration
of civil justice</i>, and the <i>sacred institutions of</i>
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">104</span>
<i>religion</i>?  Yet, are even these provisions of
divine and human wisdom, for the support of
peace and good order, defeated by our restless
and ingenious passions; and we contrive, to
make <span class="smcap">Religion</span> and <span class="smcap">Law</span> themselves, subservient
to the increase of that contention, which
they tend so naturally to keep out of the world.</p>

<p>As this abuse, which inverts the order of
things, and turns the medicine of life into a
deadly poison&mdash;as this abuse, I say, can never
be enough exposed; let me represent to you
some part of the evils, which this monstrous
misuse of <span class="smcap">Religion</span> and <span class="smcap">Civil Justice</span> has
brought upon mankind; as the last, and most
striking effort of these malignant <i>lusts</i>, from
which, according to the holy Apostle, all our
violations of peace and charity are derived.</p>

<p>And, <small>FIRST</small>, of the mischiefs, arising, from
<span class="smcap">misapplied Religion</span>.</p>

<p>It were an ample field, this, should I undertake
to follow the ecclesiastical historian in all
the abuses, which he so largely displays. But
my design is to <i>open the fountains</i>; to point,
only, to the <i>general causes</i>, from which those
abuses have flowed. And the chief of these
<i>causes</i> will not be overlooked, if we consider
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">105</span>
that Christianity has been corrupted by <i>superstition</i>,
by <i>policy</i>, and by <i>sophistry</i>: for, in
each of these ways, the <i>lusts</i>. of men have found
free scope for their activity; and have produced
all those endless discords and animosities, which
have dishonoured the Christian world.</p>

<p>1. <span class="smcap">Superstition</span> began very early to make
cruel inroads into the religion of Jesus: <i>first</i>,
by debasing its free spirit with the servility of
Jewish observances; next, in adulterating its
simple genius by the pomp of pagan ceremonies;
and, afterwards, through a long course
of dark and barbarous ages, in disfiguring its
<i>reasonable service</i><a id="FNanchor_58" href="#Footnote_58" class="fnanchor">58</a> by every whimsy, which
a gloomy or disturbed imagination could suggest.</p>

<p>The <i>lusts</i> of men gave birth to these several
perversions. The obstinate <i>pride</i> of the
Jewish Christian was flattered in retaining the
abrogated ritual of the Law: the pagan proselyte
gratified his <i>vanity</i>, and love of splendor
in religious ministrations, by dressing out
Christianity in all the paint and pageantry of
his ancient worship: and the miserable monk
soothed his <i>fears</i>, or indulged his <i>spite</i>, in
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">106</span>
busying himself with I know not what uncommanded
and frivolous expiations, or in torturing
others with the rigours of a fruitless penance.</p>

<p>From these rank passions, sprung up <i>wars</i>
in abundance among Christians. The Apostles
themselves could not prevent their followers
from <i>fighting</i> with each other, in the cause of
<i>circumcision</i>. The superstition of <i>days</i><a id="FNanchor_59" href="#Footnote_59" class="fnanchor">59</a>, and
of <i>images</i><a id="FNanchor_60" href="#Footnote_60" class="fnanchor">60</a>, grew so fierce, that the whole
Christian world was, at different times, thrown
into convulsions by it. And the dreams of
monkery excited every where the most implacable
feuds; which had, commonly, no
higher object, than the credit of their several
<i>Rules</i>, or the honour of their <i>Patron-saints</i>.</p>

<p>2. When superstition had thus set the world
on fire, a godless <span class="smcap">Policy</span> struck in, to encrease
the combustion.</p>

<p>The Christian religion, which had <small>TRUTH</small> for
its object, could not but require an assent from
its professors to the doctrines, it revealed;
and, having <span class="smcap">God</span> for its author, it, of course,
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">107</span>
exacted a compliance with the few ritual observances,
which he saw fit to ordain. But
the wantonness, or weakness, of the human
mind, introducing a different interpretation of
those <i>doctrines</i>, and a different ministration of
those <i>rites</i>, the policy of princes would not
condescend to tolerate such unavoidable differences,
but would inforce a rigid uniformity
both of sentiment and ceremony, as most conducive,
in their ideas, to the quiet and stability
of their government.</p>

<p>Again: the honour of prelates and churches
seemed to be concerned in all questions concerning
place and jurisdiction; and, when these
questions arose, was to be maintained by every
artifice, which an interested and secular wisdom
could contrive.</p>

<p>The <i>lust</i> of dominion, was plainly at the
bottom of these infernal machinations; and
the fruit, it produced, was the most bloody and
unrelenting wars, massacres, and persecutions;
with which the annals of mankind are polluted
and disgraced. But,</p>

<p>3. To work up these two pests of humanity,
<i>superstition</i>, and <i>intolerance</i>, to all the fury,
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">108</span>
of which they are capable, unblessed <span class="smcap">Science</span>
and perverted <span class="smcap">Reason</span> lent their aid.</p>

<p>For, the pride of knowledge begot innumerable
portentous heresies: which not only corrupted
the divine religion of Jesus (obnoxious
to some taint from the impure touch of human
reason, because <i>divine</i>), but envenomed the
hearts of its professors, against each other, by
infusing into them a bitter spirit of altercation
and dispute.</p>

<p>In these several ways, then, and from these
causes, has our holy religion been abused.
The <i>lusts</i> of men have turned the Gospel of
peace itself into an instrument of <i>war</i>: a misadventure,
which could not have taken place,
had Christians but recollected and practised
one single precept of their master&mdash;<i>Learn of
me; for I am meek and lowly in heart, and ye
shall find rest to your souls</i><a id="FNanchor_61" href="#Footnote_61" class="fnanchor">61</a>.</p>

<p>But the perversity of man could not be
brought to learn this salutary lesson; and so
has fulfilled that memorable saying of our
Lord, who, foreseeing what abuses would hereafter
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">109</span>
be made of his charitable system, declared
of himself&mdash;<i>I came not to send peace, but a
sword</i><a id="FNanchor_62" href="#Footnote_62" class="fnanchor">62</a>. This prediction, at least, the enemies
of our faith are ready enough to tell us, has
been amply verified, in the event. It has been
so: it was therefore inspired, because it was to
be fulfilled. But let them remember, withall,
that not the genius of the Gospel, but man’s
incorrigible passions, acting in defiance of it,
have given to this prophecy its entire completion.</p>

<p>I come now to represent to you,</p>

<p>II. In the second place, how the <i>lusts</i> of
men have perverted <span class="smcap">Civil Justice</span>, as well as
Religion, into an instrument of contention and
hate.</p>

<p>The object of all civil, or municipal laws, is
the conservation of private peace, in the equal
protection they afford to the property and persons
of men. Yet, how often have they been
employed to other purposes, <i>by those, who administer
the Laws</i>; and <i>by those, for whose
sake they are administered</i>!
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">110</span></p>

<p>1. In reading the history of mankind, one
cannot but observe, with indignation, how frequently
the magistrate himself has turned the
Law, by which he governs, into an engine of
oppression: sometimes, directing it against the
liberties of the state; and sometimes, against
the private rights of individuals. It were a
small matter, perhaps, if he only took advantage
of a <i>severe</i> law, or drew over an <i>ambiguous</i>
one, to countenance his iniquitous purposes.
But how oft has he embittered the mildest, or
tortured the plainest laws, by malignant glosses
and strained interpretations! gratifying, in
both ways, his revenge, his avarice, or his
ambition; yet still in the forms of Law, and
under the mantle, as it were of public justice!</p>

<p>Such abuses there <i>have</i> been in most states,
and, it may be, in our own. God forbid, that,
standing in this place, I should <i>accept the persons
of men, or give flattering titles unto
any</i><a id="FNanchor_63" href="#Footnote_63" class="fnanchor">63</a>. But truth obliges me to say, that there
is, now, no colour for these complaints. The
administration of justice, on the part of the
<i>Magistrate</i>, is so pure, as to be the glory of
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">111</span>
the age, in which we live. The abuses all arise
from another quarter; and the contentious spirit
is kept alive and propagated by the lusts of
private men. And what renders their iniquity
without excuse, is, that the very equity of
those forms, in which our laws are administered,
is made the occasion of introducing all these
corruptions.</p>

<p>2. To come to a <i>detail</i> on this subject,
might be thought improper. Let me paint to
you, then, in very <i>general</i> terms, the disorders
that spring from this perversion of Law; and,
to do it with advantage, let me employ the
expressive words of an ancient Pagan writer.</p>

<p>The Roman governors of provinces, it is
well known, had their times for the more solemn
administration of civil justice. Suppose,
then, one of these governors to have fixed his
residence in the capital of an Asiatic province,
to have appointed a day for this solemnity, and,
with his Lictors, and other ensigns of authority
about him, to be now seated in the
forum, or public place of the city; and consider,
if the following representation of an indifferent
by-stander be not natural and instructive.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">112</span></p>

<p>“See,” says the eloquent writer<a id="FNanchor_64" href="#Footnote_64" class="fnanchor">64</a>, whose
words I only translate, “see that vast and
mixt multitude assembled together before
you. You ask, what has occasioned this
mighty concourse of people. Are they met
to sacrifice to their country Gods, and to
communicate with each other in the sacred
offices of their religion? Are they going
to offer the Lydian first-fruits to the Ascr&aelig;an
Jupiter? or, are they assembled in such
numbers to celebrate the rites of Bacchus,
with the usual festivity? Alas, no. Neither
pious gratitude, nor festal joy, inspires
them. <i>One</i> fierce unfriendly passion <i>only</i>
prevails; whose epidemic rage has stirred up
all Asia, and, as returning with redoubled
force on this stated anniversary, has driven
these frantic crowds to the forum; where
they are going to engage in law-suits with
each other, before the Judges. An infinite
number of causes, like so many confluent
streams, rush together, in one common tide,
to the same tribunal. The passions of the
contending parties are all on fire; and the
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">113</span>
end of this curious conflict is, the ruin of
themselves and others. What fevers, what
calentures, what adust temperament of the
body, or overflow of its vicious humours, is
to be compared to this plague of the distempered
mind? Were you to interrogate
each cause (in the manner you examine a
witness) as it appears before this tribunal,
and ask, <small>WHENCE IT CAME</small>? the answer
would be, an obstinate and self-willed spirit
produced <i>this</i>; a bitter rage of contention,
<i>that</i>; and a lust of revenge and injustice,
<i>another</i>.”</p>

<p>It is not to be doubted, that this rage of the
contending parties was inflamed, in those
times, by mercenary agents and venal orators;
by men, who employed every fetch of cunning,
and every artifice of chicane, to perplex the
clearest laws, to retard the decision of the
plainest cases, and to elude the sentence of the
ablest judges. Without some such management
as this, the passions of the litigants
could not have been kept up in such heat and
fury, but must gradually have cooled, and
died away of themselves. Add this, then, to
the other features, so well delineated, and you
will have the picture of <i>ancient litigation</i> complete.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">114</span></p>

<p>And what think we, now, of this picture?
Is there truth and nature in it? Are we at all
concerned in this representation; and do we
discover any resemblance to it in what is
passing elsewhere, I mean in modern times,
and even in Christian societies? If we do, let
us acknowledge with honesty, but indeed with
double shame, that, like the Pagans of old,
we have the art to pervert the best things to
the worst purposes; and that the <i>lusts</i> of men
are still predominant over the wisest and most
beneficent institutions of civil justice.</p>

<p>Indeed, as to ourselves, the mild and equitable
spirit of our laws might be enough, one
would think, to inspire another temper: but
when we further consider the divine spirit of
the Gospel, by which we pretend to be governed,
and the end of which is <i>charity</i>, our
prodigious abuse of <i>both</i> must needs cover us
with confusion.</p>

<p>The instruction, then, from what has been
said, is this: That, since, as St. James observes,
all our <i>wars and fightings</i> with each
other proceed only from our <i>lusts</i>, and since
<i>these</i> have even prevailed to that degree as to
corrupt the two best gifts, which God, in his
mercy, ever bestowed on mankind, that is, to
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">115</span>
make <i>Religion</i> and <i>Law</i> subservient to our
bitter animosities; since all this, I say, has
been made appear in the preceding comment
on the sacred text, it becomes us, severally,
to consider what our part has been in the disordered
scene, now set before us: what care
we have taken to check those unruly passions,
which are so apt, by indulgence, to tyrannize
over us; and, if this care has been less than it
ought to have been, what may be the consequence
of our neglect. We should, in a word,
<i>take heed, how we bite and devour one another</i>;
not only, as the Apostle admonishes, <i>that we
be not consumed one of another</i>; but lest, in
the end, we incur the chastisement of that <span class="smcap">Law</span>,
we have so industriously perverted, and the
still sorer chastisement of that <span class="smcap">Religion</span>, we
have so impiously abused.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">116</span></p>

<h2 id="SERMON_VIII">SERMON VIII.<br />

<span class="medium">PREACHED APRIL 29, 1770.</span></h2>

<h3><span class="smcap">1 Tim.</span> i. 5.</h3>

<p><i>The end of the Commandment is charity, out
of a pure heart, and of a good conscience,
and of faith unfeigned.</i></p>

<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">The</span> Apostle, in the preceding verse, had
warned Timothy against <i>giving heed to fables
and endless genealogies</i>: by <span class="smcap">Fables</span>, meaning
certain Jewish fictions and traditions applied
to the explication of theological questions, and
not unlike the tales of the pagan mythologists,
contrived by them to cover the monstrous
stories of their Gods; and, by <span class="smcap">Genealogies</span>,
the derivation of Angelic and Spiritual natures<a id="FNanchor_65" href="#Footnote_65" class="fnanchor">65</a>,
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">117</span>
according to a fantastic system, invented
by the Oriental philosophers, and thence
adopted by some of the Grecian Sects. These
<i>fables and genealogies</i> (by which the Jewish
and Pagan converts to Christianity had much
adulterated the faith of the Gospel) the Apostle
sets himself to expose and reprobate, as producing
nothing but curious and fruitless disputations;
being indeed, as he calls them,
<i>endless</i>, or interminable<a id="FNanchor_66" href="#Footnote_66" class="fnanchor">66</a>; because, having no
foundation in the revealed word of God, they
were drawn out, varied, and multiplied at
pleasure by those, who delighted in such fanatical
visions.</p>

<p>Then follows the text.&mdash;<i>The end of the
Commandment, is</i> <span class="smcap">Charity</span>: <i>out of a</i> <small>PURE
HEART</small>: <i>and of a</i> <small>GOOD CONSCIENCE</small>; <i>and of</i>
<small>FAITH UNFEIGNED</small>&mdash;As if the Apostle had said,
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">118</span>“I have cautioned you against this pernicious
folly: but, if ye must needs deal in the way of
Mythology and Genealogy, I will tell you how
ye may employ your ingenuity to more advantage.
Take Christian <i>Charity</i>, for your
theme: <i>mythologize</i> that capital Grace of your
profession; or, deduce the <i>parentage</i> of it,
according to the steps, which I will point out

to you. For it springs immediately out of <i>a
pure heart</i>; which, itself, is derived from <i>a
good conscience</i>; as that, again, is the genuine
offspring or emanation of <i>faith unfeigned</i>.
In this way, ye may gratify your mythologic
or genealogical vein, innocently and usefully<a id="FNanchor_67" href="#Footnote_67" class="fnanchor">67</a>;
for ye may learn yourselves, and teach others,
how to acquire and perfect that character, which
is the great object of your religion, and <i>the end
of the Commandment</i>.”</p>

<p>Let us, then, if you please, attend to this
genealogical deduction of the learned Apostle;
and see, if the descent of Christian charity be
not truly and properly investigated by him.</p>

<p>I. <span class="smcap">Charity</span>, says he, is <i>out of a pure heart</i>:
that is, it proceeds from a heart, free from the
habits of sin, and unpolluted by corrupt affections.</p>

<p>To see with what propriety, the Apostle
makes a pure heart the <i>parent</i> of charity, we
are to reflect, that this benevolent temper,
which inclines us to wish and do well to others,
is the proper growth and produce, indeed, of
the human mind, but of the human mind in its
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">119</span>
native and original integrity. To provide
effectually for the maintenance of the social
virtues, it hath pleased God to implant in
man, not only the power of reason, which
enables him to see the connexion between
his own happiness and that of others, but
also certain instincts and propensities, which
make him <i>feel</i> it, and, without reflexion, incline
him to take part in foreign interests. For,
among the other wonders of our make, this is
<i>one</i>, that we are so formed as, whether we will
or no, <i>to rejoice with them that rejoice, and
weep with them that weep</i><a id="FNanchor_68" href="#Footnote_68" class="fnanchor">68</a>. But now this
sympathetic tenderness, which nature hath put
into our hearts for the concerns of each other,
may be much impaired by habitual neglect, or
selfish gratifications. If, instead of listening
to those calls of nature, which, on the entrance
into life, are incessantly, but gently, urging us
to acts of generosity, we turn a deaf ear to
them, and, charmed by the suggestions of self-love,
yield up ourselves to the dominion of the
grosser appetite, it cannot be but that the love of
others, however natural to us, must decline, and
become, at length, a feeble motive to action;
or, which amounts to the same thing, be constantly
overpowered by the undue prevalence
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">120</span>
of other principles. Thus we may see, how
ambition, avarice, sensuality, or any other of
the more selfish passions, tends directly, by
indulgence, to obstruct the growth of <i>charity</i>;
and how favourable an uncorrupt mind is to
the production and maturity of this divine
virtue.</p>

<p>But, further, the impurities of the heart do
not only hinder the exertions of <i>benevolence</i>;
they have even a worse effect, they cause us to
pervert and misapply it. It is not, perhaps, so
easy a matter, as some imagine, to divest ourselves
of all attachment to the interest of our
fellow-creatures. But, by a long misuse of our
faculties, we may come in time to mistake the
objects of <i>true</i> interest; and so be carried, by
the motives of benevolence itself, to do irreparable
mischief to those we would most befriend
and oblige. This seems to be the case of those
most abandoned of all sinners, who take pains
to corrupt others, and not only do wicked things
themselves, <i>but have pleasure in those who do
them</i><a id="FNanchor_69" href="#Footnote_69" class="fnanchor">69</a>.  All that can be said for these unhappy
victims of their own lusts, is, that their <i>perverted
benevolence</i> prompts them to encourage others
in that course of life, from which, if it were
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">121</span>
rightly exercised, they would endeavour, with
all their power, to divert them.</p>

<p>So necessary it is, that charity should be out
of <i>a pure heart</i>! It is polluted in its very
birth, unless it proceed from an honest mind:
it is spurious and illegitimate, if it be not so
descended.</p>

<p>II. The next step in this line of moral ancestry,
is a <small>GOOD CONSCIENCE</small>: which phrase is
not to be taken here in the negative sense, and
as equivalent only to a <i>pure heart</i>; but as expressing
a further, a <i>positive</i> degree of goodness.
For so we find it explained elsewhere;
<i>having</i>, says St. Peter, a <small>GOOD CONSCIENCE</small>, <i>that
whereas they speak evil of you, as</i> <small>EVIL DOERS</small>,
<i>they may be ashamed that falsely accuse your</i>
<small>GOOD CONVERSATION</small> <i>in Christ Jesus: for it
is better, if the will of God be so, that ye
suffer for</i> <small>WELL DOING</small>, <i>than for evil doing</i><a id="FNanchor_70" href="#Footnote_70" class="fnanchor">70</a>.
Whence, by <i>a good conscience</i>, we are authorized
to understand a mind, <i>conscious to itself
of beneficent actions</i>. And thus the Apostle’s
intention will be, to insinuate to us, that, to
be free from <i>depraved affections</i>, we must be
actively virtuous; and that we must be <i>zealous</i>
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">122</span>
in good works, if we would attain to that <i>purity</i>
of heart, which is proper to beget the genuine
virtue of Christian charity.</p>

<p>For, we may conceive of the matter, thus.
A <i>good conscience</i>, or a mind enured to right
action, is most likely, and best enabled, to
shake off all corrupt partialities; and, as being
intent on the strenuous exercise of its duty, in
particular instances, to acquire, in the end,
that tone of virtue, which strengthens, at once,
and refines the affections, till they expand themselves
into an universal good-will. Thus we
see that, without this moral discipline, we
should scarce possess, or not long retain, a <i>pure
heart</i>; and that the heart, <i>if pure</i>, would yet
be inert and sluggish, and unapt to entertain
that prompt and ready benevolence, which
true charity implies.</p>

<p>So that an active practical virtue, as serving
both to purify and invigorate the kind affections,
has deservedly a place given to it in this lineal
descent of Christian love. But,</p>

<p>III. The Apostle rises higher yet in this
genealogical scale of charity, and acquaints us
that a <i>good conscience</i>, or a course of active
positive virtue, is not properly and lawfully descended,
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">123</span>
unless it proceed from a <small>FAITH UNFEIGNED</small>,
that is, a sincere undissembled belief
of the Christian religion.</p>

<p>And the reason is plain. For there is no dependance
on virtuous practice; we cannot expect
that it should either be steady, or lasting,
unless the principle, from which it flows, be
something nobler and more efficacious, than
considerations taken from the beauty, propriety,
and usefulness of virtue itself. Our active
powers have need to be sustained and
strengthened by energies of a higher kind, than
those which mere philosophy supplies. We
shall neither be able to bear up against the difficulties
of a good life, nor to stand out against
the temptations, which an evil world is always
ready to throw in our way, but by placing a
firm trust on the promises of God, and by keeping
our minds fixed on the glorious hopes and
assurances of the Gospel. And <i>experience</i>
may satisfy us, that practical virtue has no
stability or consistency, without these supports.</p>

<p>Besides, considering a <i>good conscience</i>, or a
moral practical conduct, with an eye to its influence
on a <i>pure heart</i>, till it issue in complete
<i>charity</i>, we cannot but see how the Christian
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">124</span>
faith is calculated to direct its progress, and secure
the great end proposed. For the whole
system of our divine religion, which hath its
foundation in <i>grace</i>; its <i>precepts</i>, which
breathe nothing but love and amity; its <i>doctrines</i>,
which only present to us, under different
views, the transcendent goodness of
God in the great work of redemption; its <i>history</i>,
which records the most engaging instances
of active benevolence; all this cannot
but exceedingly inspirit our affections, and
carry them out in a vigorous and uniform prosecution
of the subordinate <i>means</i>, which are
to produce that last perfection of our nature, a
pure and permanent love of mankind. For at
every step we cannot but see the <i>end of the
commandment</i>, so perpetually held out to us,
and derive a fresh inducement from <i>faith</i>, to
accomplish and obtain it.</p>

<p>Indeed, to produce this effect, our <i>faith</i>, as
the Apostle adds, must be <small>UNFEIGNED</small>: that is,
it must be nourished and intimately rooted in
the heart; we must not only yield a general
assent to the sacred truths of our religion, we
must embrace them with earnestness and zeal,
we must rely upon them with an unshaken
confidence and resolution. But all this will be
no difficulty to those who derive their <i>faith</i>
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">125</span>
from its proper source, that is, who make a
diligent study of the holy scriptures: where
<i>only</i> we learn what the <i>true</i> faith (which will
ever be most friendly to virtue) is; and whence
we shall <i>best</i> derive those motives and considerations,
which are proper to excite and fortify
this principle in us.</p>

<p>And thus, that Charity, which a <i>pure mind</i>
gives the liberty of exerting, and which a <i>good
conscience</i> manifests and at the same time improves,
will, further, be so sublimed and perfected
by the influence of divine <i>faith</i>, as will
render it the sovereign guide of life, and the
pride and ornament of humanity.</p>

<p>Or, to place the descent of Charity, in its
true and natural order, it must spring, first,
from an <i>unfeigned faith</i> in the Gospel of Jesus:
that faith must then produce, and shew itself
in, a <i>good conscience</i>: and that conscience
must be thoroughly purged from all selfish and
disorderly <i>affections</i>: whence, lastly, the celestial
offspring of <i>Charity</i> has its birth, and
comes forth in all the purity and integrity of
its nature.</p>

<p><span class="smcap">From this</span> lineage of Christian Charity, thus
deduced, many instructive lessons may be
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">126</span>
drawn. We may learn to distinguish the true
and genuine, from pretended Charity: we have,
hence, the surest way of discerning the spirits
of other men, and of trying our own: we may
correct some popular mistakes concerning the
virtue of charity; and shall best comprehend
the force and significancy of the several commendations,
which the inspired writers, in
many places, and in very general terms, bestow
upon it.</p>

<p>Let me conclude this discourse with an instance
of such instruction, respecting each of
those heads, which the order of the text hath
afforded the opportunity of considering.</p>

<p>And, <i>first</i>, from the necessity of a <small>PURE
HEART</small>, we are instructed what to think of the
benevolence of those men, who, though enslaved
to their own selfish passions, are seldom the
most backward to make large pretences to this
virtue. But, be their pretences what they will,
we know with certainty, that, if the heart be
impure, its charity must be defective. It must,
of course, be weak and partial; confined in its
views, and languid in its operations; in a
word, a faint and powerless quality, and not that
generous, diffusive, universal principle, which
alone deserves the exalted name of <i>Charity</i>.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">127</span></p>

<p>We conclude, also, on the same grounds,
that the hatred of vice is no breach of Christian
charity. This charity is required to flow from a
<i>pure heart</i>. But there is not in nature a stronger
antipathy, than between <i>purity</i>, and <i>impurity</i>.
So that we might as well expect light and
darkness, heat and cold, to associate, as spotless
virtue not to take offence at its opposite. I
know, indeed, that the hatred due to the vices
of men, is too easily transferred to their persons.
But that charity, which is lineally descended
from <i>faith</i>, will see to make a difference
between them; and while it feels a quick
resentment against <i>sin</i>, will conceive, nay will,
by that very resentment, demonstrate, a tender
concern for <i>sinners</i>, for whom Christ
died.</p>

<p><i>Secondly</i>, from the rank, which a <small>GOOD CONSCIENCE</small>
holds in this family of love, we are
admonished to avoid the mistake of those, who
are inclined to rest in negative virtue, as the
<i>end of the commandment</i>; and who account
their charity full and complete, when it keeps
them only from intending, or doing mischief
to others. The Apostle, on the contrary, gives
us to understand, that its descent is irregular,
if it be not allied to active positive virtue;
such as takes a pleasure in kind offices, is zealous
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">128</span>
to promote the welfare of others, and is fertile
in <i>good works</i>. And this conclusion is the more
necessary to be inforced upon us, since, in a
world like this, where vice is sure to be active
enough, the interests of society will not permit
that Charity should be idle.</p>

<p>Lastly, from the lineal descent of Charity
from <small>FAITH</small>, we must needs infer, that infidelity
is not a matter of that indifference to
social life, which many careless persons suppose
it to be. It is the glory of our faith, that it
terminates in charity. Every article of our
creed is a fresh incitement to good works: in
so much that, he who understands his religion
most perfectly, and is most firmly persuaded
of it, can scarce fail of approving himself the
best man, as well as the best <i>Christian</i>. And
this, again, is a consideration, which should
affect all those who profess to have any concern
for the interests of society and moral
virtue.</p>

<p>Thus it appears, how instructive the doctrine
of the text is, and how usefully, as well as
elegantly, the Apostle sets before us, in this
short genealogical table, the proper ancestry of
Charity: in which <i>Faith</i>, as the ultimate progenitor,
begets an <i>active virtue</i>; and that,
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">129</span>
impregnating the <i>heart</i> with pure affections,
produces at length this divine offspring of
<i>Christian love</i>.</p>

<p>If we had found this mythological fiction in
Xenophon or Plato, we should have much admired
the instruction conveyed in it. Let it
not abate our reverence for this moral lesson,
that it comes from an Apostle of Jesus, and,
if not dressed out in the charms of human
eloquence, has all the authority of truth and
divine inspiration to recommend it to us.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">130</span></p>

<h2 id="SERMON_IX">SERMON IX.<br />

<span class="medium">PREACHED NOVEMBER 9, 1766.</span></h2>

<h3><span class="smcap">Rom.</span> xii. 10.</h3>

<p>&mdash;<i>In honour preferring one another.</i></p>

<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">It</span> is much to the honour of the inspired
writers, because it shews them to be no enthusiasts,
that, with all their zeal for the revealed
doctrines of the Gospel, they never
forget or overlook the common duties of <i>humanity</i>;
those duties, which Reason itself, a
prior Revelation, had made known to the wiser
part of mankind.</p>

<p>Nay, which is more remarkable, they sometimes
condescend to enforce what are called the
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">131</span>
<i>lesser moralities</i><a id="FNanchor_71" href="#Footnote_71" class="fnanchor">71</a>; that is, those inferiour
duties, which, not being of absolute necessity
to the support of human society, are frequently
overlooked by other moralists, and yet, as contributing
very much to the comfortable enjoyment
of it, are of <i>real</i> moment, and deserve a
suitable regard.</p>

<p>The text is an instance of this sort&mdash;<i>in honour
preferring one another</i>&mdash;the <small>NATURE</small>,
and <small>GROUND</small>, and right <small>APPLICATION</small>, of which
duty, it is my present purpose to explain.</p>

<p>1. The general <small>NATURE</small> of this virtue consists
in a disposition to express our good will to
others by exteriour testimonies of respect; to
consult the credit and honour of those we converse
with, though at some expence of our own
vanity and self-love. It implies a readiness to
prevent them in the customary decencies of
conversation; a facility to give way to their
reasonable pretensions, and even to abate something
of our own just rights. It requires us to
suppress our petulant claims of superiority;
to decline all frivolous contests and petty rivalries;
to moderate our own demands of pre-eminence
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">132</span>
and priority; and, in a word, to
please others, rather than ourselves.</p>

<p>It is an easy, social, conciliating virtue; a
virtue made up of <i>humility</i> and <i>benevolence</i>;
the <i>former</i>, inclining us not to think more
highly of ourselves than we ought; and the
<i>latter</i>, to give our Christian brother an innocent
satisfaction when we can.</p>

<p>And our obligation to the practice of this
virtue is <small>FOUNDED</small>,</p>

<p>II. On the clearest reasons, taken both from
the <i>nature of man</i>, and the <i>genius of our holy
Religion</i>.</p>

<p>And, <small>FIRST</small>, from <i>the nature of man</i>.</p>

<p>Among the various principles, some of them,
in appearance, discordant and contradictory,
which constitute our common nature, one of
the first to take our attention is, “A conscious
sense of dignity;” an opinion of self-consequence,
which mixes itself with all our thoughts
and deliberations; prompting us to entertain
lofty sentiments of our own worth, and aspiring
to something like superiority and dominion
over other men. This principle, which
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">133</span>
appears very early, and is strongest in the
more generous dispositions, is highly necessary
to a being formed for virtuous action; and naturally
leads to the exertion of such qualities
as are proper to benefit society, as well as to
gain that ascendency in it, to which we pretend.
It is the spring, indeed, of every commendable
emulation; puts in act all our better
and nobler faculties; and gives nerves to that
labor and industry, by which every worthy
accomplishment is attained.</p>

<p>But now this principle (so natural and useful),
when it is not checked by others, but is
suffered to take the lead and predominate on
all occasions, undisciplined and uncontrolled,
easily grows into a very offensive and hurtful
quality: <i>offensive</i>, because it is now exerted
to the humiliation of every other, who is actuated
by the same principle; and <i>hurtful</i>, because,
in this undue degree, it counteracts the
very purpose, <i>the good of human society</i>, for
which it was designed.</p>

<p>This quality we know by the name of <span class="smcap">Pride</span>.
The other moderate degree of self-esteem,
which is allowable and virtuous, seems not (I
suppose, from its rare appearance under that
form) to have acquired in our language a distinct
name.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">134</span></p>

<p>To <i>Pride</i>, then, the pernicious and too
common issue of self-love, it became necessary,
that some other principle should be opposed.
And such a principle, as is proper to correct
the malignity of pride, we find in that <i>philanthropy</i>,
which, by an instinct of the same common
nature, disposeth us to consult the happiness,
and to conciliate to ourselves the good
will and affection, of mankind. This benevolent
movement of the mind is, further,
quickened by the mutual interest all men have
in the exercise of it. For Pride is disarmed by
submission; and, by receding from our own
pretensions, we take the most likely way to
moderate those of other men. Thus, the generous
affections are kept in play; reciprocal
civilities are maintained; and, by the habit of
<i>each preferring other</i>, which prudence would
advise, if instinct did not inspire, the peace of
society is preserved, its joy encreased, and
even our vanity, so far as it is a just and natural
affection, gratified and indulged.</p>

<p>The reason of the Apostolic precept is, then,
laid deep in the constitution of human nature;
which is so wonderfully formed, that its <i>perfection</i>
requires the reconciliation of contrary
qualities; and its <i>happiness</i> results from making
benevolence itself subservient to self-love.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">135</span></p>

<p>2. If, from the philosophic consideration of
man, we turn to the <i>genius of the Gospel</i>, we
shall there find this conclusion of natural reason
strengthened and confirmed by evangelical
motives.</p>

<p>Benevolence, which, in the Gospel, takes
the name of <i>Charity</i>, hath a larger range in
this new dispensation, than in that of nature.
The doctrine, and still more the example, of
Jesus, extends the duty of humility and self-denial;
requires us to make ampler sacrifices
of self-love, and to give higher demonstrations
of good-will to others, than mere reason could
well demand or enforce. He, that was so far
from <i>seeking his own</i>, that he <i>emptied himself
of all his glory</i>, and stooped from heaven to
earth, for the sake of man, hath a right to
expect, from his followers, a more than ordinary
effort to conform to so divine a precedent,
a peculiar attention to the mutual benefits and
concerns of each other. It is but little that
we keep within some decent bounds our aspiring
tempers and inclinations: we are now
to <i>subject</i> ourselves to our Christian brethren;
to renounce even our innocent and lawful pretensions;
and to forego every natural gratification,
when the purposes of Christian Charity
call us to this arduous task.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">136</span></p>

<p>For the Gospel, it is to be observed, has
taken us out of the loose and general relation
of men, and has bound us together in the
closer and more endearing tie of <i>Brethren</i>: it
exalts the good-will, we were obliged to bear
to the species, into the affection, which consanguinity
inspires for the individuals of a
private family. The Apostle, therefore, in
the words preceding the text, bids us&mdash;<i>be
kindly affectioned one to another with</i> <small>BROTHERLY
LOVE</small>&mdash;not, with the <i>love</i>, that unites
one <i>man</i> with another<a id="FNanchor_72" href="#Footnote_72" class="fnanchor">72</a>, which is the highest
pretension of mere morality; but with the
<i>love</i>, that knits together natural <i>brethren</i><a id="FNanchor_73" href="#Footnote_73" class="fnanchor">73</a>,
which is the proper boast and character of
evangelical love. The words of the original
have a peculiar energy<a id="FNanchor_74" href="#Footnote_74" class="fnanchor">74</a>. They express that
instinctive warmth of affection, which nature
puts into our hearts for our nearest kindred,
such as communicate with us by the participation
of one common blood.</p>

<p>So that the same compliances, we should
make with <i>their</i> inclinations, the same preference,
we should give to <i>their</i> humour and interest
above our own, should now be extended
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">137</span>
and exercised towards all Christians; and that
principle of an ardent affection, by which we
are led to make the most chearful condescensions
to our <i>natural</i> brother, should work in
us the same generous consideration of our <i>spiritual</i>
brother, <i>for whom Christ died</i>.</p>

<p>Having explained the <i>nature</i> of this duty,
and the <i>grounds</i>, both in reason and religion,
on which it rests, it now remains,</p>

<p>III. To provide for the <small>RIGHT APPLICATION</small>
of it in practice. And here, in truth, the whole
difficulty lies.</p>

<p>It is evident enough, I suppose, from what
has been said, That the moral and Christian
duty of <i>preferring one another in honour</i>, respects
only social peace and charity, and terminates
in the good and edification of our
Christian brother. Its use is, to soften the
minds of men, and to draw them from that savage
rusticity, which engenders many vices,
and discredits the virtues themselves. But
when men had experienced the benefit of this
complying temper, and further saw the ends,
not of charity only, but of <small>SELF-INTEREST</small>, that
might be answered by it; they considered no
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">138</span>
longer its just purpose and application, but
stretched it to that officious sedulity, and extreme
servility of adulation, which we too often
observe and lament in polished life.</p>

<p>Hence, that infinite attention and consideration,
which is so rigidly exacted, and so duly
paid, in the commerce of the world: hence,
that prostitution of mind, which leaves a man
no will, no sentiment, no principle, no character;
all which disappear under the uniform
exhibition of good-manners: hence, those
insidious arts, those studied disguises, those
obsequious flatteries, nay, those affected freedoms,
in a word, those multiplied and nicely-varied
forms of insinuation and address; the
direct aim of which may be to acquire the fame
of politeness and good-breeding; but the certain
effect, to corrupt every virtue, to sooth
every vanity, and to inflame every vice, of the
human heart.</p>

<p>These fatal mischiefs introduce themselves
under the pretence and semblance of that <i>humanity</i>,
which the text encourages and enjoins.
But the <i>genuine</i> virtue is easily distinguished
from the <i>counterfeit</i>, and by the following
plain <i>signs</i>.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">139</span></p>

<p>1. <span class="smcap">True politeness</span> is modest, unpretending,
and generous. It appears as little as may
be; and, when it does a courtesy, would willingly
conceal it. It chuses silently to forego
its own claims, not officiously to withdraw
them. It engages a man to <i>prefer his neighbour
to himself</i>, because he really esteems
him; because he is tender of his reputation;
because he thinks it more manly, more Christian,
to descend a little himself, than to degrade
another&mdash;It respects, in a word, the
<i>credit and estimation</i> of his neighbour.</p>

<p>The mimic of this amiable virtue, <small>FALSE
POLITENESS</small>, is, on the other hand, ambitious,
servile, timorous. It affects popularity; is solicitous
to please, and to be taken notice of.
The man of this character does not offer, but
obtrude, his civilities: <i>because</i> he would merit
by this assiduity; because, in despair of winning
regard by any worthier qualities, he
would be sure to make the most of this; and,
lastly, because of all things he would dread, by
the omission of any punctilious observance, to
give offence.&mdash;In a word, this sort of politeness
respects, for its immediate object, the <i>favour
and consideration</i> of our neighbour.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">140</span></p>

<p>2. Again: the man, who governs himself
by the <i>spirit</i> of the Apostle’s precept, expresses
his <i>preference of another</i> in such a way as is
worthy of himself: in all innocent compliances,
in all honest civilities, in all decent and manly
condescensions.</p>

<p>On the contrary, the man of the world, who
rests in the <i>letter</i> of this command, is regardless
of the <i>means</i>, by which he conducts himself.
He respects neither his own dignity, nor
that of human nature. Truth, reason, virtue,
all are equally betrayed by this supple impostor.
He assents to the errors, though the most
pernicious; he applauds the follies, though the
most ridiculous; he sooths the vices, though
the most flagrant, of other men. He never
contradicts, though in the softest form of insinuation;
he never disapproves, though by a
respectful silence; he never condemns, though
it be only by a good example. In short, he
is sollicitous for nothing, but by some studied
devices to hide from others, and, if possible, to
palliate to himself, the grossness of his illiberal
adulation.</p>

<p>3. Lastly, we may be sure, that the <i>ultimate</i>
<small>ENDS</small>, for which these different <i>objects</i> are pursued,
and by so different <i>means</i>, must also lie
wide of each other.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">141</span></p>

<p>Accordingly, the truly polite man would, by
all proper testimonies of respect, promote the
credit and estimation of his neighbour, <i>because</i>
he sees, that, by this generous consideration
of each other, the peace of the world is in a
good degree preserved; <i>because</i> he knows that
these mutual attentions prevent animosities,
soften the fierceness of men’s manners, and
dispose them to all the offices of benevolence
and charity; <i>because</i>, in a word, the interests
of society are best served by this conduct; and
<i>because</i> he understands it to be his duty, <i>to
love his neighbour</i>.</p>

<p>The falsely polite, on the contrary, are
anxious by all means whatever, to procure the
favour and consideration of those they converse
with, <i>because</i> they regard ultimately nothing
more than their private interest; <i>because</i> they
perceive, that their own selfish designs are best
carried on by such practices: in a word, <i>because</i>
they <i>love themselves</i>.</p>

<p>Thus we see, the genuine virtue consults the
honour of others by worthy means, and for
the noblest purpose; the counterfeit, sollicits
their favour by dishonest compliances, and for
the basest end.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">142</span></p>

<p>By such evident marks are these two characters
distinguished from each other! and so
impossible it is, without a wilful perversion of
our faculties, to mistake in the application of
the Apostle’s precept!</p>

<p>It follows, you see, from what has been said,
“that integrity of heart, as Solomon long
since observed, is the best guide in morals<a id="FNanchor_75" href="#Footnote_75" class="fnanchor">75</a>.”
We may impose upon others by a shew of civility;
but the deception goes no farther. We
cannot help knowing, in our own case, if we be
ingenuous, when this virtue retains its nature,
and when it degenerates into the vice that
usurps its name. To conclude, an honest man
runs no risk in being polite. Let us only
<i>respect</i> ourselves; and we shall rarely do amiss,
when, as the Apostle advises, <i>in honour we
prefer one another</i>.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">143</span></p>

<h2 id="SERMON_X">SERMON X.<br />

<span class="medium">PREACHED MAY 6, 1770.</span></h2>

<h3><span class="smcap">John</span> xiii. 8.</h3>

<p>&mdash;<i>Jesus answered him, If I wash thee not,
thou hast no part with me.</i></p>

<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">To</span> comprehend the full meaning of these
words (which, as we shall see, are of no small
importance) we must carefully attend to the
circumstances of the history, which gave occasion
to them.</p>

<p>The chapter begins thus&mdash;<i>Now before the
feast of the Passover, when Jesus  knew that
his hour was come, that he should depart out</i>
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">144</span>
<i>of this world to the Father, having loved his
own, which were in the world, he loved them
to the end.</i>&mdash;</p>

<p>We are prepared by these words to expect
something, on the part of our Lord, very expressive
of his love for his Disciples.</p>

<p>The <i>season</i>, too, is critical, and must excite
our attention: <i>it was before the feast of
the Passover, when Jesus knew that his hour
was come, that he should depart out of this
world to the Father</i>; in other words, just before
his crucifixion.</p>

<p>There is, indeed, some difficulty in fixing
the precise time, when the transaction, now
to be related, happened. I take no part in
the disquisition, because it is not material to
my purpose, and would divert me too much
from it. It is enough to say, that it was at
most, but the evening before the Paschal supper
was celebrated, and therefore but two days
before Jesus suffered.</p>

<p>The history proceeds&mdash;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">145</span>“<i>And supper being
ended</i> (or rather, as the text should have
been translated, <i>the time of supper being</i>

<i>come</i><a id="FNanchor_76" href="#Footnote_76" class="fnanchor">76</a>) <i>the Devil having now put it into the
heart of Judas Iscariot, Simon’s son, to betray him,
Jesus knowing that the Father had
given all things into his hands, and that he
was come from God and went to God; he
riseth from supper, and laid aside his garments,
and took a towel and girded himself.
After that, he poureth water into a bason,
and began to wash the Disciples feet, and to
wipe them with the towel wherewith he was
girded.</i>”</p>

<p>Thus far all is clear. Jesus condescended
to <i>wash the feet of his Disciples</i>; a ministry,
very common in the East, and usually performed
by servants, in discharge of their duty
towards their masters, or, by inferiors, at
least, in testimony of respect towards their superiors;
as is abundantly plain from many
instances.</p>

<p>This then was <small>ONE</small> end of this <i>washing</i>.
Our Saviour meant it as a lesson of humility
and condescension to his Disciples. But was
it the <small>ONLY</small>, or the <i>chief</i> end? That is the point
we are now to consider.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">146</span></p>

<p>Let it be remembered, then, that nothing
was more familiar with the Jews, than to convey
an information to others, especially if that
information was of importance, by natural,
rather than artificial signs, I mean by <i>deeds</i>,
rather than <i>words</i>; as every one knows, who
has but dipped into the history and writings
of the Old and New Testament. The transaction
before us, if understood <i>only</i> as a lesson
of humility, is a lesson conveyed to the Disciples
in this form<a id="FNanchor_77" href="#Footnote_77" class="fnanchor">77</a>.</p>

<p>Now, this way of <i>information by action</i> was
occasionally made to serve <small>TWO</small> contrary purposes:
either to give more force and emphasis
to an instruction; or, to cloathe it with some
degree of obscurity, or even ambiguity. For
<i>actions</i>, speaking to the eye, when the purpose
of them is by any means clearly ascertained,
convey the most lively and expressive information:
on the other hand, when it is not, they
are somewhat obscure, one thing being to be
collected by us from another: or the information
is even ambiguous, as the action may signify
more things than one.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">147</span></p>

<p>Sometimes, the primary sense is declared,
or easily understood; while, yet, a secondary
sense, a less apparent one, but more momentous,
is, also, intended.</p>

<p>This, upon inquiry, may be the case before
us. Christ’s <i>washing the feet of his Disciples</i>
obviously conveys this instruction, which
is asserted, too, in express  words&mdash;that, <i>as he,
their Lord and master, washed their feet, so
they ought also to wash one another’s feet</i><a id="FNanchor_78" href="#Footnote_78" class="fnanchor">78</a>.
But <i>another</i>, and far more important, instruction
<i>may</i> be conveyed in this action, though it
be not so fully and explicitly declared. It
<i>may</i>, I say, be conveyed: from laying all circumstances
together, we shall be able to form
a judgment, whether it were, indeed, in the
Agent’s <i>intention</i> to convey it.</p>

<p><i>First</i>, as I said, the narrative of this transaction
(which, take it as you will, was clearly
designed to be an <i>information by action</i>) is
prefaced in a very extraordinary manner.
<i>Jesus, knowing that his hour was come&mdash;knowing
too that the Father had given all
things into his hands, and that he was come
from God, and went to God</i>, proceeded&mdash;to
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">148</span>
do what? Why, to give his disciples a lesson
of humility and charity, in washing their feet.
The Lesson, no doubt, was important; and
becoming the character of their divine master.
But does it rise up to those <i>ideas</i> of importance,
which we are prepared to entertain of an action,
performed at such a time, and so awfully introduced?
<i>His hour was come&mdash;the Father
had given all things into his hands&mdash;he came
from God, and was now going to God.</i> All
this announces something beyond and above a
common lecture of morality; something, which
might be a suitable close to the instructions of
such a teacher.</p>

<p>Let us see, <i>next</i>, how the action is received.
One of the disciples, Peter, surprized at his
Lord’s condescension, says very naturally, <i>Lord,
dost thou wash my feet?</i> Jesus, to remove
his scruples, replies, <i>What I do, thou knowest
not now, but thou shalt know hereafter</i>. The
words are ambiguous, and may mean, “Thou
shalt know, <i>immediately</i>, from the explication
I am about to give of this action;” or,
“thou shalt know <i>hereafter</i>, in due time, and
by other means,” what the purport of it is.
Still Peter, not satisfied with this answer, but
confounded at the apparent indignity of Christ’s
condescension, replies resolutely, <i>Thou shalt</i>
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">149</span>
<i>never wash my feet</i>. This resistance was to
be overcome, that the <i>information</i>, whatever
it was, might take place, by the performance
of that which was the vehicle of it. Jesus
answers, therefore, more directly and solemnly,
<span class="smcap">If I wash thee not, thou hast no part
with me</span>&mdash;Which words, whether understood
by Peter or not, were clearly seen to have <i>some</i>
meaning of the last concern to him; and,
struck with this apprehension, he submits.</p>

<p>But what! taking these oracular words, in
the sense only in which Jesus thought fit to
explain them, we hardly see the force and propriety
of them. For, had Peter <i>no part with
Jesus</i>, that is, was he incapable of receiving
any benefit from him, unless he had this ceremony
of washing, performed upon him, when
that ceremony had no further use or meaning,
than to convey a moral lesson? If he had not
learnt <i>this</i> lesson from Christ, he might have
learnt many <i>others</i>: or, he might have learnt
<i>this</i>, some other way: and taking it in either
light, he might still be said to <i>have some part</i>
with Jesus, though he had not been <i>washed</i>
by him.</p>

<p>The true import, then, of these enigmatic
words, and of the whole transaction which is
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">150</span>
here recorded, begins to appear, and is further
opened by the sequel of Peter’s conversation
with Jesus. For, understanding, that this <i>ablution</i>
was, some way so necessary to him,
Peter subjoins, <i>Not my feet only, but also my
hands and my head</i>. Jesus saith to him, <i>He
that is washed, needeth not, save to wash his
feet, and is clean every whit; and ye are clean,
but not all; for he knew who should betray
him: therefore said he, Ye are not all clean</i>.</p>

<p>It was, we see, the uncleanness of sin, or
the <i>filth of an evil conscience</i>, which was to be
taken away by this washing. More than a
single moral lesson, how excellent soever, was,
therefore, couched in this act; indeed, the
necessity and efficacy of <small>CERTAIN MEANS</small>, by
which mankind were, in general, to be cleansed
from sin, was that which was ultimately and
mainly signified by it. He that was <i>thus washed,
was clean every whit</i>; and the <i>information</i> of
this benefit being the end of the washing, it
was enough if that was conveyed by washing
any one part.</p>

<p>You see at length to what all this tends.
Jesus, knowing the secret treachery of Judas,
and, by the divine spirit which was in him,
foreseeing the destined effect of that treachery;
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">151</span>
knowing, that he was now, forthwith, to suffer
death upon the cross, the purpose, for which
he came from God, and for the execution of
which he only waited before he returned to
him; considering, withal, the immense benefit,
which was to accrue to mankind from his voluntary
devotion of himself to this death, and
that the eternal Father, for the sake of it, <i>had
given all things into his hands</i>, had given him
the power to redeem all the sons of Adam from
the vassalage of sin and death, by virtue of that
BLOOD which he was now to pour out upon
the cross, as a propitiation for them; Jesus, I
say, foreseeing and considering all this, chose
this critical season, when <i>his hour was now
come</i>, to signify by the ceremony of washing
his disciples feet<a id="FNanchor_79" href="#Footnote_79" class="fnanchor">79</a>, the efficacy and value of his
own precious blood, by which alone they, and
all mankind, were to have all their sins purged
and washed away for ever.</p>

<p>This was apparently the momentous instruction,
which it was our Lord’s purpose to convey
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">152</span>
in this transaction. He would, <i>first</i>, shew
that we were to be washed in his blood; and
<i>then</i>, subordinately, that we were to follow his
example in a readiness <i>to do as he had done</i>;
that is, not only to <i>wash</i> each other, but, emblematically
still, to lay down our lives and
pour out our blood, if need be, for the sake
of the brethren. All circumstances concur to
assure us, that such was the real secret intent
of this mysterious washing; and thus, at length,
we understand the full purport of those words&mdash;<i>If
I wash thee not, thou hast no part with
me</i><a id="FNanchor_80" href="#Footnote_80" class="fnanchor">80</a>.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">153</span></p>

<p>If it be still said, that Jesus explains his own
purpose differently, it is enough to reply, that
these emblematic actions were generally significative
of more things, than one; and that
the manner of Jesus was, on other occasions,
to enforce that instruction, which was not the
primary one in his intention<a id="FNanchor_81" href="#Footnote_81" class="fnanchor">81</a>: the reason of
which conduct was founded in this rule, so
constantly observed by him, of conveying information
to his disciples, only, <i>as they were
able to bear it</i><a id="FNanchor_82" href="#Footnote_82" class="fnanchor">82</a>. In a word, he gave them
many instructions, and <i>this</i>, among the rest,
darkly and imperfectly, because they could not
then bear a stronger light; but yet with such
clearness as might, afterwards, let them into
his purpose; leaving it to the Holy Ghost
(whose peculiar province it was) to illuminate
their minds, in due time; to reveal all that
had been obscurely intimated; and to open
the full meaning of his discourses and actions,
as well as to <i>bring them all to their remembrance</i><a id="FNanchor_83" href="#Footnote_83" class="fnanchor">83</a>.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">154</span></p>

<p>From this memorable part of the Gospel-history,
thus opened and explained, we may
draw some important conclusions.</p>

<p>1. <span class="smcap">First</span>, we learn, if the comment here
given be a just one, That <i>the blood of Christ</i>
(so an Apostle hath expressed himself) <i>cleanseth
us from all sin</i><a id="FNanchor_84" href="#Footnote_84" class="fnanchor">84</a>: I mean, that the death
of Christ was a true, proper, and real propitiation
for our sins; and not a mere figure, or
tropical form of speech; as too many, who
call themselves Christians, conceive of it. For
the pertinence and propriety of the representative
action, performed by our Lord, is founded
in this supposition, “That the blood of Christ
was necessary to our purification, and that, but
for our being <i>washed in his blood</i><a id="FNanchor_85" href="#Footnote_85" class="fnanchor">85</a>, we should
be yet in our sins.” Jesus himself, in explaining
this transaction, so far as he thought fit to
explain it, confines us to this idea. For in this
sense, only, is it true&mdash;<i>that we, who are
washed, are clean every whit</i>&mdash;and, that <i>unless
we are washed by Christ, we have no part
with him</i>.</p>

<p>Such, then, is the information given us in
this ceremony of <i>washing the disciples feet</i>;
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">155</span>
and not in this, only. For, besides the present
emblematic act, performed by our Lord,
for the special benefit of his disciples, the <small>TWO</small>
Sacraments, it is to be observed, were purposely
instituted, for the general use of his church,
to hold forth to us an image of his <i>efficacious
blood</i>, poured out for us: the sacrament of
<span class="smcap">Baptism</span>, by the reference it had (like this act)
to the typical <i>washings</i> of the Law; and the
sacrament of the <span class="smcap">Lord’s supper</span>, as referring,
in like manner, to the typical <i>sacrifices</i> of that
dispensation. Of such moment, in the view
of our Lord himself, was this doctrine of <i>propitiation</i>!
And so careful, or rather anxious,
was he, that this consolatory idea of <i>redemption
through his</i> <small>BLOOD</small><a id="FNanchor_86" href="#Footnote_86" class="fnanchor">86</a> (suggested in so
many ways, and in so striking a manner)
should be always present to us!</p>

<p>Nor were his Apostles (let me, further, remark)
less intent in prosecuting this design.
For they insist every-where, and with a singular
emphasis&mdash;that <i>Christ, our passover, is
sacrificed for us</i><a id="FNanchor_87" href="#Footnote_87" class="fnanchor">87</a>&mdash;and that <i>we are</i> <small>WASHED</small>,
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">156</span>
<i>and sanctified, and saved, by the sprinkling
of the blood of Jesus</i><a id="FNanchor_88" href="#Footnote_88" class="fnanchor">88</a>.</p>

<p>Go now, then, and say, that the <i>blood</i> of
Christ is only a metaphor, and means no more
in the mouth of a Christian, than it might be
supposed to do in that of an honest heathen,
who should say, That he had been <i>saved</i>, or
benefited in a moral way, by the <i>blood</i>, that is,
the exemplary death, of Socrates!&mdash;When we
speak of its <i>washing</i> away sin, it is true, we
use the term <i>washing</i> metaphorically (for <i>sin</i>
is not literally washed): but the scriptures are
unintelligible, and language itself has no
meaning, if <i>the blood of the lamb slain</i> had
not a true, direct, and proper efficacy (considered
in the literal sense of <i>blood</i>) in freeing us
from the <i>guilt</i> of sin, or, in other words, from
the <i>punishment</i> of it.</p>

<p>2. <span class="smcap">A second</span> conclusion may be drawn, more
particularly, from the words of the text&mdash;<i>if I
wash thee not, thou hast no part with me</i>.
For, if these words mean, as I have endeavoured
to shew, and as, I think, they must
mean, that we are redeemed only by the <i>blood</i>
of Christ; and if, as the context seems to
speak, it is in our power to forfeit this benefit,
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">157</span>
by refusing to be <i>washed</i> by his blood, that is,
to accept the deliverance, offered to us, <i>through
faith in his blood</i><a id="FNanchor_89" href="#Footnote_89" class="fnanchor">89</a>: it follows, that there is
something very alarming in the condition of
those persons, who hold out against all the
calls of Grace, and obstinately persist in a state
of infidelity. In vain have they recourse to
natural religion, or to any other supposed
means of purification and salvation. In vain
do they trust even to the moral part of the
Gospel, while they reject or disbelieve the rest.
They must be washed by <i>Christ</i>, if they desire
<i>to have any part with him</i>; they must
place their entire hope and confidence in the
<i>blood</i> of the covenant, who would share in the
blessings of it.</p>

<p>Nay, more than this: the Redeemer is <i>outraged</i>
by this refusal to comply with the gracious
terms of his salvation. And, though
some may make slight of <i>having no part with
Christ</i>, it may concern them to reflect, what
it is to <i>have a portion with unbelievers</i><a id="FNanchor_90" href="#Footnote_90" class="fnanchor">90</a>.</p>

<p>3. <span class="smcap">Lastly</span>, and above all, I conclude, that
they, who are <i>washed</i>, and, in consequence of
that washing, trust to <i>have a part with Christ</i>,
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">158</span>
as they can never be enough thankful for the
inestimable benefit, they have received, so
they can never be enough careful to retain, and
to improve it. If we, who have once embraced
the faith, revolt from it; or, while we
make a shew of professing the faith, pollute
ourselves again with those sins, from which we
have been cleansed; nay, if we do not strive
to purify our hearts and minds still more and
more by the continual efficacy of a lively faith
in Jesus; if, in any of these ways, we be in
the number of those, <i>who draw back unto perdition</i>,
what further sacrifice remains for us,
or what hope have we in that, which has
been already offered?</p>

<p>Judas himself, be it remembered, was <i>washed</i>
among the other Disciples; yet he was not
<i>clean</i>, for all that, nor had he <i>any part</i> with
Jesus. What can this mean, but that something
is to be done, on <i>our</i> part, when the
Redeemer has done <i>his</i>? and that the permanent
effect of this <i>washing</i>, as to any particular
person, depends on his care to keep those
<i>robes white</i>, which have been <i>washed in the
blood of the lamb</i><a id="FNanchor_91" href="#Footnote_91" class="fnanchor">91</a>?
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">159</span></p>

<p>The account, and the conclusion, of the
whole matter, is plainly this&mdash;<i>If we say that
we have fellowship with him, and walk in
darkness, we lie, and do not the truth: but,
if we walk in the light, as he is in the
light, then have we fellowship with him,
and</i> <small>HIS BLOOD CLEANSETH US FROM ALL SIN</small><a id="FNanchor_92" href="#Footnote_92" class="fnanchor">92</a>.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">160</span></p>

<h2 id="SERMON_XI">SERMON XI.<br />

<span class="medium">PREACHED JUNE 20, 1773.</span></h2>

<h3><span class="smcap">Mark</span> ix. 49.</h3>

<p><i>For every one shall be salted with fire, and
every sacrifice shall be salted with salt.</i></p>

<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">This</span> is generally esteemed one of the most
difficult passages in the four Gospels. I confess,
I take no pleasure in commenting on such
passages, especially in this place; because the
comment only serves, for the most part, to
gratify a learned curiosity, and is, otherwise,
of small use.</p>

<p>But, when a difficult text of Scripture can
be explained, and the sense, arising out of the
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">161</span>
explanation, is edifying and important, then
it falls properly within our province to exert
our best pains upon it.</p>

<p>This I take to be the case of the difficulty
before us, which therefore I shall beg leave to
make the subject of the present discourse.</p>

<p>There are <small>TWO</small> very different interpretations,
of which the words are capable: and they shall
both of them be laid before you, that ye may
adopt either as ye think fit; or even reject
them both, if ye do not find them sufficiently
supported.</p>

<p>To enable you to go along with me in what
follows, and to judge of either interpretation,
whether it be reasonable or not, it is necessary
to call your attention to the preceding verses of
this chapter, to which the text refers, and by
which it is introduced.</p>

<p>Our blessed Lord (for the words, I am about
to explain, are <i>his</i>) had been discoursing to his
Disciples on <i>offences</i>, or <i>scandals</i>; that is,
such instances of ill-conduct, such indulgences
of any favourite and vicious inclination, as
tended to obstruct the progress of the Gospel,
and were likely to prevent either themselves,
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">162</span>
or others, from embracing, or holding fast,
the faith. Such offences, it was foreseen,
would come: <i>but woe to that man</i> (as we read
in the parallel passage of St. Matthew’s Gospel)
<i>by whom the offence cometh</i><a id="FNanchor_93" href="#Footnote_93" class="fnanchor">93</a>.</p>

<p>And, to give the greater effect to this salutary
denunciation, our Saviour proceeds, in
figurative, indeed, but very intelligible terms,
to enforce the necessity of being on our guard
against such <i>offences</i>, what pain soever it might
cost us to subdue those passions, from which
they were ready to spring. No virtue of self-denial
was too great to be attempted in such a
cause. A <i>hand</i>, a <i>foot</i>, an <i>eye</i>, were to be
<i>cut off</i>, or <i>plucked out</i>; that is, inclinations, as
necessary and as dear to us, as those members
of the body, were to be suppressed or rejected
by us, rather than the <i>woe</i>, denounced against
the indulgence of them, be incurred. This
woe is, that the offenders should be cast into
hell-fire, <i>where their worm dieth not, and the
fire is not quenched</i>: and it is subjoined <i>three
times</i>, in the same awful words, to so many
instances of supposed criminal indulgence, in
the case alledged; or rather, to one and the
<i>same</i> species of ill-conduct, differently modified,
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">163</span>
and, to make the greater impression upon us,
represented under three distinct images. After
the last repetition of it, the text immediately
follows&mdash;<i>for every one shall be salted with fire,
and every sacrifice shall be salted with salt</i>.</p>

<p>I. Now, taken in this connexion, the words
<i>may</i> clearly, and, according to our ideas, of
interpretation, most naturally <i>do</i>, admit this
sense; that the offenders, spoken of, shall be
preserved entire to suffer the punishment
threatened, though it might seem that they
would, in no long time, be totally destroyed
by it: as if our Lord had expressed himself
thus&mdash;“I have repeated this woe three times,
to shew you the degree and duration of it, as
well as the certainty of its execution; <i>the worm
shall not die</i>, that is, the sense of suffering
shall continue, even in circumstances, which
may seem proper and likely to put an end to
it: for such, as are worthy to be cast into this
fire, shall be <i>salted</i>, or preserved from wasting
(salt being the known emblem of <i>incorruption</i>,
and thence of <i>perpetuity</i>) by the very fire
itself. And [you may easily conceive how this
shall be, <i>for</i>] <i>every sacrifice</i>, the flesh of
every animal to be offered up to God in your
Jewish sacrifices, is kept sound and fit for use
by being (as the Law directs in that case)
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">164</span>
<i>salted with salt</i>. Just so, the <i>fire itself</i> shall act
on these victims of the divine justice: like <i>salt</i>,
sprinkled on your legal victims, it shall preserve
these offenders entire, and in a perpetual
capacity of subsisting to that use, to which
they are destined.”</p>

<p>Now, if such be the sense of the words, they
contain the fullest and most decisive proof of
that tremendous doctrine, <i>the eternity of future
punishments</i>, which is any where to be
met with in Scripture. For the words, being
given as a reason and explanation of the doctrine,
are not susceptible of any vague interpretation,
like the words <i>eternal</i> or <i>everlasting</i>,
in which it is usually expressed; but
must necessarily be understood, as implying
and affirming the literal truth of the thing, for
which they would account. And, this being
supposed, you see the use, the unspeakable
importance, of this text, as addressed to all believers
in Jesus.  But,</p>

<p>II. There is another sense, of which the
text is capable: and, if you think it not allowable
to deduce a conclusion of such dreadful
import from words of an ambiguous signification,
you will incline perhaps (as it is natural for
us to do) to this more favourable interpretation,
which I am going to propose.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">165</span></p>

<p>I observed, that the text, as read in connexion
with the preceding verse, is most naturally,
according to our ideas of interpretation,
to be understood, as I have already explained
it. But, what is the most <i>natural</i>, according
to our modern rules and principles of construction,
is not always the <i>true</i>, sense of passages
in ancient oriental writers (who did not affect
our accuracy of connexion), and particularly
in the writers of the New Testament.</p>

<p>To give a remarkable instance in a discourse
of our Lord himself. He had prescribed to his
disciples that form of prayer, which we know
by the name of the <i>Lord’s prayer</i>, consisting
of several articles; the last of which is&mdash;<i>for
thine is the kingdom, and the power and the
glory for ever</i><a id="FNanchor_94" href="#Footnote_94" class="fnanchor">94</a>. Now, to this concluding
sentence of his prayer he immediately subjoins
these words&mdash;<small>FOR</small> <i>if we forgive men
their trespasses, your Heavenly Father will
also forgive you</i>. But, from the illative particle,
<i>for</i>, according to our notions of exact
composition, was to be expected a reason, or
illustration, of the <i>immediately foregoing</i>
clause, the <i>doxology</i>, which shuts up this
prayer: whereas, the words, which that particle
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">166</span>
introduces, have respect to another and
<i>remote</i> clause in the same prayer, namely,
<i>forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors</i><a id="FNanchor_95" href="#Footnote_95" class="fnanchor">95</a>,
and express the ground and reason, only, of
that petition.</p>

<p>In like manner, the illation expressed in the
text&mdash;<small>FOR</small> <i>every one shall be salted with fire,
and every sacrifice shall be salted with salt</i>&mdash;may
not be intended to respect the preceding
words&mdash;<i>where the worm dieth not, and the
fire is not quenched</i>&mdash;but something else,
which had been advanced in our Lord’s discourse,
though at some distance from the text;
and possibly, the general scope or <i>subject</i> of it.
Consider, then, what that subject is. It is
necessary, our Lord tells his disciples, for
such as would escape the woes, threatened,
and approve themselves faithful followers of
him, to subdue or renounce their most favourite
inclinations, by which they might be,
at any time, tempted to <i>offend</i>, though the
pain of this self-denial should be ever so grievous
to them.</p>

<p>To reconcile their minds to this harsh doctrine,
he may then be supposed to resume that
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">167</span>
topic, and to <i>justify</i> the advice, which, with
so much apparent severity, he had given them.
And then we may conceive him to speak to this
effect:</p>

<p>“I have said, you must not regard the <i>uneasiness</i>,
which the conduct, I require of you,
will probably occasion. For <i>every one</i>, that
is, every true Christian, <i>every one</i> that is consecrated
to my service, and would escape the
punishment by <i>fire</i>, in the world to come,
<i>shall be salted with fire</i>, in the present world;
that is, shall be tried with sufferings of one
kind or other, can only expect to be continued
in a sound and uncorrupt state, by <i>afflictions</i>;
which must search, cleanse, and purify your
lives and minds, just as <i>fire</i> does those bodies,
which it refines, by consuming all the dross
and refuse, contained in them. The process
may be violent, but the end is most desirable,
and even necessary. <i>And</i>, that it is so, ye
may discern from the wisdom of your own
Law, which requires that <i>every sacrifice</i>, fit
to be offered up to God in the temple-service,
<i>shall be salted with salt</i>; that is, preserved
from putrefaction, and even all approaches to
it, by the application of that useful, though
corroding substance. Now, the <i>fire</i> of affliction
shall be to your moral natures, what <i>salt</i>
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">168</span>
is to the animal. It may agitate and torment
your minds, but it shall eat all the principles
of corruption out of them, and so keep them
clean and untainted; as is fit, considering the
heavenly use that is to be made of them, it
being your duty, and even interest, to present
them, as <i>a sacrifice acceptable and well pleasing
to God</i><a id="FNanchor_96" href="#Footnote_96" class="fnanchor">96</a>.”</p>

<p>In this way, you see, the text is reasonably
explained of <i>moral discipline</i> in this world, not
of future <i>punishment</i>. What may be thought
to occasion some little difficulty, or, at least,
particularity, in the mode of writing, is, that
<i>one</i> metaphor seems here employed to explain
<i>another</i>. But we should rather conceive of
the two metaphors, as employed, jointly and
severally, to express this moral sentiment&mdash;‘That
affliction contributes to preserve and improve
our virtue.’ The allusion to the effects
of <i>salt</i> was exceedingly obvious and natural in
the mouth of a Jew, addressing himself to
Jews<a id="FNanchor_97" href="#Footnote_97" class="fnanchor">97</a>. Not but it was common enough, too,
in Gentile writers<a id="FNanchor_98" href="#Footnote_98" class="fnanchor">98</a>. And the other allusion
to the effects of <i>fire</i> (though the two figures
are in a manner run together by speaking of
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">169</span>
the <i>subject</i>, to which they are applied, as
<i>salted</i> with fire). This allusion, I say, to <i>fire</i>,
is justified by the familiar use of it, in the sacred
writings. For thus we are told, <i>that fire
must try every man’s work</i><a id="FNanchor_99" href="#Footnote_99" class="fnanchor">99</a>&mdash;that <i>our faith
is tried, as gold by fire</i><a id="FNanchor_100" href="#Footnote_100" class="fnanchor">100</a>&mdash;that <i>a fiery trial
must try us</i><a id="FNanchor_101" href="#Footnote_101" class="fnanchor">101</a>&mdash;that, <i>as gold is tried in the
fire</i>, so are <i>acceptable men in the furnace of
adversity</i><a id="FNanchor_102" href="#Footnote_102" class="fnanchor">102</a>&mdash;and in other instances.</p>

<p>Of <i>both</i> these natural images, it may be
affirmed, that they are not unusually applied
to moral subjects: and, if we thus <i>apply</i> them
in the text, the <i>use</i> to ourselves, according to
this interpretation, is considerable and even
important; no less, than the seeing enforced,
in the most lively manner, and by our Saviour
himself, this great moral and evangelical lesson&mdash;<i>that
the virtue of a good mind must be
maintained at whatever expence of trouble and
self-denial</i>&mdash;and for this plain reason, because,
though <i>no chastening for the present seem to
be joyous, but grievous; nevertheless, afterward,
it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of righteousness
unto them, which are exercised
thereby</i><a id="FNanchor_103" href="#Footnote_103" class="fnanchor">103</a>.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">170</span></p>

<p>And, that such is probably the true sense
of the text, we have been considering, may
further be concluded from the light it throws
on the following and last verse of this chapter;
the meaning of which will now be very plain
and consequential, as may be shewn in few
words.</p>

<p>For, having spoken of <i>Christian discipline</i>
under the name of <i>salt</i>, which <i>preserves</i> what
it searches, our Lord very naturally takes advantage
of this idea, and transfers the appellation
to <i>Christian faith</i>, which was necessary
to support his followers under that discipline,
and has this property, in common with <i>salt</i>,
that it gives soundness and incorruption to the
subject on which it operates. <i>Salt</i>, says he, <i>is
good: but, if salt have lost its saltness, wherewith
will ye season it?</i> That is, <i>faith in me</i>
(for by <i>salt</i>, you easily perceive, I now mean
that faith, which is your true <i>seasoning</i>, and
can alone maintain your firmness and integrity
under all trials; this <i>faith</i>, I say) is a salutary
principle: but take notice, if you suffer that
principle, so active and efficacious, to decay
and lose its virtue, there are no means left to
retrieve it. Like <i>salt</i>, grown insipid, it can
never recover its former quality, but is for ever
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">171</span>
worthless and useless<a id="FNanchor_104" href="#Footnote_104" class="fnanchor">104</a>. Therefore, adds he,
take care to <i>have</i>, that is, retain, this <i>salt</i>, this
good seasoning of your Christian principles, <i>in
yourselves</i>; which will preserve you incorrupt,
as individuals: and, as <i>salt</i>, from its necessary
use at the table, is further an emblem of union
and friendship, give proof of these principles
in your intercourse with all Christians, so as to
keep <i>peace one with another</i>; for, by this
<i>seasoning</i> of peace, ye will best preserve yourselves
entire, as <i>a body of men</i>, or society<a id="FNanchor_105" href="#Footnote_105" class="fnanchor">105</a>.</p>

<p>We see, then, that understanding this <i>fire</i>,
with which <i>every one shall be salted</i>, of the
fire of <i>affliction</i> only, which, like salt, is to
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">172</span>
try and preserve the moral integrity of all believers,
and not of the <i>fire which dieth not</i>,
and, according to the former interpretation,
was to preserve <i>offenders</i> in a perpetual capacity
of enduring future punishment; understanding,
I say, this metaphor in the former
sense, we have an easy, elegant, and extremely
useful sense in the words of the text: a sense,
which perfectly agrees with what precedes the
text, and illustrates what follows it: whereas,
in the other way of explaining these words, it
will be difficult to shew their coherence with
the subsequent verse, though they admit an application
to the foregoing.</p>

<p>On the whole, I leave it to yourselves to
judge, which of the two interpretations, now
proposed to you, is the proper one. I know
of no other, that so well deserves your notice,
as these two: and, if <i>either</i> of them be admissible,
we have gained the satisfaction of understanding
a very obscure passage of holy Scripture.
But we have gained more, than this:
for, whichever we prefer, a momentous inference
may be drawn from it. <span class="smcap">Either</span>, we must
resolve to stick close to our <span class="smcap">Christian faith
and principles</span>, as the only means of preserving
our integrity, and making us fit for the
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">173</span>
favour of God, to whatever trials of any kind
they may expose us: OR, we shall have to
reflect, what <small>SUFFERING</small>, terrible beyond imagination,
is reserved for obstinately impenitent
and incorrigible sinners.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">174</span></p>

<h2 id="SERMON_XII">SERMON XII.<br />

<span class="medium">PREACHED FEBRUARY 9, 1766.</span></h2>

<h3><span class="smcap">Gal.</span> vi. 3.</h3>

<p><i>If a man think himself to be something, when
he is nothing, he deceiveth himself.</i></p>

<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">This</span> is one of those many passages in the
sacred writings, in which the simplicity of the
expression is apt to make us overlook the
profound sense contained under it. Who
doubts, it may be said, the truth of so general
an axiom, as this? and what information, worth
treasuring up in the memory, is conveyed by it?</p>

<p>In answer to such questions, as these, it
may be observed, That the inspired writers
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">175</span>
are not singular in this practice; the moral
wisdom of all nations, and, in particular, that
of the ancient Pagan sages (whom these objectors,
no doubt, reverence) being usually
conveyed in such large and general aphorisms:
and, further, that many good reasons may be
given for this mode of instruction.</p>

<p><span class="smcap">First</span>, <i>the necessity of the thing</i>, in times,
when men have not been accustomed to refine
on moral subjects: it is also <i>necessary</i> in another
sense, in order to convey the rules of life
in some reasonable compass. Good sense in
moral matters is but the experience of observing
men, the result of which must be given
in compendious parcels or collections; otherwise
the memory is loaded too much; besides
that neither the leisure, nor the talents of those,
for whom these lessons are designed, will serve
for nicer disquisitions.</p>

<p><span class="smcap">Secondly</span>, if this <i>mode</i> of teaching were not
necessary, it would still be preferable to any
other for its <i>own proper dignity</i>. A philosopher
in the schools, or a divine in his closet,
may deduce the laws of morality with a minute
exactness. But the authority of an Apostle
disdains this care, and awakens the consciences
of men by some <i>general</i> precept, by some large
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">176</span>
and <i>comprehensive</i> observation. It becomes
the majesty of his character to deliver the
principles of right conduct in <i>few and weighty
words</i>: his precepts are <i>Laws</i>; and his observations,
<i>Oracles</i>: it is for others to speculate
upon them with curiosity, and draw them out
into systems.</p>

<p><span class="smcap">Thirdly</span>, sometimes the very address of a
writer leads him to <i>generalize</i> his observations.
It is, when a more direct and pointed manner
would press too closely on the mind, and, by
making the application necessary, indispose us
to conviction; whereas, when a reproof presents
itself in this form, less offence is likely to
be given by it, the application being left, in a
good degree, to ourselves.</p>

<p>This last, we shall find, was the case of St.
Paul in the text; in whose behalf, therefore,
we need not, in the present instance, plead the
<i>necessity</i>, the <i>convenience</i>, or the <i>dignity</i> of
this method of instruction; though these reasons,
we see, might, on other occasions, be
very justly alledged.</p>

<p>For, to come now to the aphorism in the
text&mdash;<i>If a man think himself to be something,
when he is nothing, he deceiveth himself</i>&mdash;as
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">177</span>
trivial as this general truth may appear at first
sight, we shall perceive, by turning to the context,
that the inspired writer applies it with
infinite address to mortify the pride of some
persons, against whom the tenour of his discourse
is there directed. For certain false
teachers, it seems, had very early crept into
the churches of <i>Galatia</i>, who arrogated a superior
wisdom to themselves, and, on the credit
of this claim, presumed to impose the yoke
of Jewish ordinances on the Gentile converts:
in direct opposition to the injunctions of the
Apostle, who had lately planted these churches;
and in manifest violation of Christian charity,
which forbad those grievous burthens to be laid
on the consciences of believers.</p>

<p>One natural feature in the character of these
vain-glorious boasters, was the contempt with
which they treated the more infirm Christians,
and the little consideration they had for such
of their brethren as happened to be <i>overtaken
with any fault</i>. This proud, unchristian temper
he therefore takes upon him to correct&mdash;<i>Brethren</i>,
says he, <i>if any man be overtaken
with a fault, you, that are spiritual, restore
such a one in the spirit of meekness, considering
thyself, lest thou also be tempted: Bear
ye one another’s burdens, and so fulfil the law</i>
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">178</span>
<i>of Christ</i>. And then follows the observation
of the text&mdash;<i>for, if a man think himself to be
something, when he is nothing, he deceiveth
himself</i>: leaving the conceited Doctors and
their admirers to apply these general words, as
they saw fit; but clearly enough pointing to
some persons among them, <i>who took themselves
to be something</i>, and yet miserably <i>deceived
themselves</i>, in that, indeed, they <i>were
nothing</i>. In what respects their conduct
shewed them to be so, he leaves to their own
sagacity, quickened by the poignancy of this
covert reproof, to find out.</p>

<p>Such is the Apostle’s <i>address</i> in this divine
admonition; and such the <i>force</i> (the greater,
<i>for</i> the address) of the reprehension conveyed
in it!</p>

<p>But now, what those <small>RESPECTS</small> are, in which
these sufficient men shewed themselves <i>to be
nothing</i>, though St. Paul thought it not fit to
specify them to the <i>Galatians</i>, it may be <i>useful
to us</i>, as it certainly is left <i>free</i> for us, to
inquire.</p>

<p><span class="smcap">First</span>, then, their very <i>Conceit</i> was a certain
argument of their <i>Folly</i>. For, what surer
indication of a weak and shallow man, than
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">179</span>
his proneness to think highly of himself! Wise
men understand themselves at another rate.
They are too conscious of their own infirmities;
they know their judgment to be too fallible,
their apprehension too slow, their knowledge
too scanty, their wills too feeble, and their
passions too strong, to give way to this insolent
exultation of heart, to indulge in this conceit
of their own importance, and much less to form
injurious comparisons between themselves and
others. They understand, that the only question
is concerning the different degrees of <i>weakness
and imperfection</i>; and that, where the
best come far short of what they should be, all
pretence of boasting is cut off.</p>

<p><span class="smcap">Secondly</span>, these superior airs of importance
were unsuitable to the nature of their religion,
and shewed how little proficiency they had
made in it; <small>BECAUSE</small>, as <i>Christians</i>, whatever
light and knowledge they laid claim to, they
must needs confess was not their own, but derived
to them from above. All, these spiritual
men could pretend to know of divine things,
had been freely and solely revealed to them by
the Spirit of God; a distinction, which ought
indeed to fill their hearts with gratitude, but
could be no proper foundation of their pride or
vain-glory. For, as the Apostle himself argues
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">180</span>
in another place, <i>Who maketh thee to differ
from another? And what hast thou, which
thou didst not receive?  Now, if thou didst
receive it, why dost thou glory, as if thou
hadst not received it<a id="FNanchor_106" href="#Footnote_106" class="fnanchor">106</a>?</i></p>

<p>Whatever temptation, therefore, there might
be to a poor vain heathen to pride himself in
his pittance of knowledge or virtue, a <span class="smcap">Christian</span>
should, by the very principles of his
religion, be more modest, and ascribe his proficiency
in either, not to himself, but to the
indulgent favour and good pleasure of God.</p>

<p><span class="smcap">Thirdly</span>, these boasters betrayed themselves
by the <i>fruits</i>, which this self-importance produced,
namely, their contemptuous and unfeeling
treatment of their brethren under any
instance of their weakness and frailty. Such
behaviour was doubly ridiculous: <i>first</i>, as it
implied an ignorance of their own infirmity,
and liableness to temptation; and, <i>then</i>, as it
argued a total want of <i>Charity</i>, the most essential
part of their religion, without which a man
is <i>nothing</i>, whatever gifts and graces of other
kinds he may possess<a id="FNanchor_107" href="#Footnote_107" class="fnanchor">107</a>.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">181</span></p>

<p><span class="smcap">Fourthly</span>, whatever merit a man may possess,
this fond complacency of mind can hardly
fail to <i>deprive</i> him of it. For this conceit of
his own sufficiency puts him off his guard, and
makes him more liable to fall into any <i>misconduct</i>,
when, apprehending no danger to himself,
he employs no care; just as nothing is
more fatal to an army, than a confidence in its
own strength, inducing a neglect of that watchfulness
and discipline, by which alone its security
can be maintained.</p>

<p>This sufficiency also leads to <i>ignorance</i>, as
well as misconduct, by cutting off all hopes of
further improvement. For he, that is proud
of his own knowledge, is not anxious to extend
it; and, indeed, does not easily apprehend
there is much room or occasion for his so doing.
Now, from the moment a man stands still, and
interrupts his intellectual, as well as moral
course, by the known constitution of things, he
necessarily goes backward; and, for his just
punishment, relapses fast into that ignorance,
in a freedom from which he had before placed
his confidence and triumph.</p>

<p><i>Lastly</i>, this presumptuous conceit is <i>belyed</i>
in the <small>EVENT</small>, I mean in the opinion of those
very persons, to whom the vain man would
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">182</span>
willingly recommend himself. For the natural
effect of such presumption is, to excite the
<i>contempt</i> of the wise, and the <i>envy</i> of the rest.
Men of discernment easily penetrate the delusion,
and, knowing how little reason there is
for any man to pride himself in his knowledge
or virtue, are provoked to entertain an ostentatious
display of those qualities with that ridicule,
it so well deserves: while the weaker sort
always take themselves to be insulted by superior
accomplishments; and rarely wait the just
provocation of <i>vain-glory</i> to malign and envy
those, to whom they belong.</p>

<p>But the misfortune does not stop here. Contempt
and Envy are active and vigilant passions;
they are quick at espying a weakness,
and spare no pains to expose it: and where
can this merciless inquisition end, but in the
proud man’s mortification to see his best faculties
slighted, or traduced, and all his imperfections
laid bare and exposed?  So good reason
had the Apostle to warn the Galatian teachers
against <i>vain-glory</i>, in the close of the preceding
chapter&mdash;<i>Let us</i>, says he, <i>not be vain-glorious,
provoking one another, envying one
another</i>; an exhortation which the <i>vain-glorious</i>
among them should have listened to, even for
their own sakes.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">183</span></p>

<p>We see, then, that, <i>in these several respects</i>,
a man, who <i>takes himself to be something</i>,
in effect proves himself <i>to be nothing</i>.
So full of instruction is the plain unpretending
aphorism in the text to the persons concerned!</p>

<p>The Apostle adds&mdash;that such a man <small>DECEIVETH
HIMSELF</small>&mdash;which must needs be, and
cannot want to be enlarged upon; since it appears
in the very instances, in which his <i>nothingness</i>
has been shewn. The <i>vain-glorious</i>
Christian is manifestly and notoriously deceived
in <i>thinking himself something</i>&mdash;while that
very conceit shews the contrary&mdash;while it
shews that he overlooks the very principles of
his religion&mdash;while it proves him to be void of
Christian charity, the very end of the commandment&mdash;while
it betrays him into ignorance
and folly, and therefore tends to subvert
the very foundation, on which his <i>vain-glory</i>
is raised&mdash;while, lastly, in the event, it deprives
him of that very consideration to which
he aspires.</p>

<p>“<span class="smcap">Such</span> are the mischiefs of <i>Self-conceit</i>!”
a vice, which Reason universally condemns,
but which our Christian profession renders
most contemptible and ridiculous. Even in
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">184</span>
the pursuits of <i>human</i> Science, where Reason
can do most, all the efforts of the ablest understanding
penetrate but a little way. We know
enough of <i>the nature of things</i>, to serve the
purposes of common life; and enough of <i>the
nature of man</i>, to discover our duty towards
each other. And within this narrow circle all
our knowledge, be we as proud of it as we
please, is confined. Clouds and darkness cover
the rest; and this the ablest men of all times
have seen and confessed. If there be a man,
whom Heaven has formed with greater powers
and stronger faculties than are commonly met
with in the species, he is the <i>first</i> to discover,
and to lament, his own blindness and weakness:
a Socrates and a Pascal have been considered
as prodigies of parts and ingenuity;
yet, while the meanest Sophister is puffed up
with the conceit of his own knowledge, these
divine men confess nothing so readily as their
own ignorance.</p>

<p>And, if this be the case of human learning,
what must we think of <i>divine</i>?  where Reason
teaches nothing, beyond the existence and attributes
of God, and, as to every thing else,
without the aid of <i>Revelation</i>, is stark-blind.
<i>The things of God knoweth no man but the
Spirit of God</i>&mdash;is an assertion, to which common
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">185</span>
sense and common experience must assent.
Yet shall every idle Speculatist, who
has but the confidence to call himself a Philosopher,
treat the <i>divine word</i>, as freely as any
ordinary subject; and pronounce as peremptorily
of the <i>revealed will of God</i>, which the
Angels themselves adore in silence, as if he
knew for certain that his poor and scanty understanding
was commensurate with <i>the councils
of the most High</i>!</p>

<p>To these professors of Science, whether human
or divine, who know so little of themselves
as to presume they know every thing,
may the Apostle’s aphorism be most fitly addressed&mdash;<i>If
a man think himself to be something,
when he is nothing, he deceiveth himself</i>;&mdash;and,
through all the simplicity of the
expression, the good sense of the observation
must be felt by the proudest understanding.</p>

<p>Not, that the proper remedy for this evil, of
<i>Self-conceit</i>, is a vile subjection of the understanding,
which our holy Religion disdains,
and to which none but slaves will submit&mdash;nor
yet Scepticism, another vice, to which
the less sanguine disputers of this world are
much addicted&mdash;but a modest use of the faculties
we possess, and above all, <i>charity</i>. It
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">186</span>
is but another species of <i>pride</i>, to pretend that
we know nothing; <i>Christian humility</i> is best
expressed in referring, what we know, to the
good of others. Without this reference, all
our claims of superior wisdom are vain and
delusive: for it is with <i>knowledge</i>, as with faith,
unless it <i>work by charity</i>, it is nothing.</p>

<p>To return to the text, then, and to conclude.</p>

<p>Let the ignominy of this <i>Self-delusion</i> deter
us, if nothing else can, from the unseemly arrogance,
it so well exposes and condemns.
And let us learn to revere the wisdom of the
great Apostle, who, by couching so momentous
an admonition in so plain terms, has taught
us, That, as conceit and vain-glory terminate
in shame and disappointment; so the modesty
of unpretending knowledge may be entitled to
our highest esteem.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">187</span></p>

<h2 id="SERMON_XIII">SERMON XIII.<br />

<span class="medium">PREACHED MAY 16, 1773.</span></h2>

<h3><span class="smcap">2 Cor.</span> x. 12.</h3>

<p><i>We dare not make ourselves of the number,
or compare ourselves, with some that commend
themselves:  But they, measuring
themselves by themselves, and comparing
themselves among themselves, are not wise.</i></p>

<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">I</span>&nbsp;shall not inquire, <i>who</i> the persons were,
to whom these words are applied. It is enough,
for the use I intend to make of them, to observe,
that they contain a censure of <i>some</i>
persons, “who, conscious of certain advantages,
and too much taken up in the contemplation
of them, came to think better of
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">188</span>
themselves, and, consequently, worse of
others, than they had reason to do; demonstrating,
by this, their partiality (as the
Apostle gently remonstrates), that <i>they were
not wise</i>.”</p>

<p>But this censure admits a more extensive
application. <i>Measuring themselves by themselves,
and comparing themselves among themselves</i>,
whole nations, and even ages, as well
as individuals, are, sometimes, misled in the
estimate they make of their own worth; and
never more easily, or remarkably, than when
the object of their partial fondness is their proficiency
in <i>knowledge</i>, and, above all, in <i>religious
knowledge</i>: for nothing flatters the
pride of human nature so much, as an idea of
superiority in the exercise of its <i>best faculties</i>,
on the <i>noblest subjects</i>.</p>

<p>It would be easy to illustrate this observation
by <i>many</i> examples, that have occurred in
the history of mankind. But <small>ONE</small>, only, will
sufficiently employ your thoughts at this time;
and that one (to make it the more interesting
and useful) shall be taken from <small>OURSELVES</small>.</p>

<p>The improvements, that have been made,
for two or three centuries past, in almost every
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">189</span>
art and science, seem to authorize the <i>present
age</i> to think with some respect, of itself. It
accordingly exults in the idea of its own wisdom:
and <i>this country</i>, in particular, which
has contributed its full share to those improvements,
may well be thought as forward,
as any other, to pay itself this tribute of self-esteem.
It would not be strange, if it appeared,
on inquiry, That some <i>presumption</i> had, in
either case, been indulged; and had even operated,
according to the <i>nature</i> of presumption,
to the prejudice of that claim, which, with so
much confidence, has been set up. But I have
now in view, only, <i>one effect</i> of this presumption;
I mean, the complacency which many
take in supposing, That the <i>present age</i> excels
equally in <i>sacred</i> and <i>secular</i> learning; and,
with regard to ourselves, That <i>our</i> theological
knowledge as much surpasses that of our forefathers
at the Reformation, as <i>their</i> knowledge
did, the thick and gross ignorance of the
monkish ages.</p>

<p>It concerns us, for more reasons than one,
not to mistake in this matter. The direct way
to decide upon it, would, no doubt, be, To
compare the best modern writers, with the ablest
of those among the Reformers, on the subject
of religion. But, till ye have the leisure or
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">190</span>
curiosity to make this comparison for yourselves,
ye will pay some regard, it may be, to
the following considerations; which, at least,
I think, make it questionable, whether <i>our</i>
claims, in particular (for the inquiry shall, for
the present, be confined to them), whether, I
say, <i>our</i> pretensions to religious knowledge
have not been carried too far. And,</p>

<p>1. One is tempted to ask, whether it be
credible, that we of this age should have much
advantage over our Reformers, in respect of religious
knowledge, when both had an opportunity
of deriving it from the same source?
You will apprehend the meaning of this question,
if you reflect, that our Reformers had not
their religious system to fetch out of the dark
rolls of ancient tradition, and much less to
create, or fashion for themselves, out of their
own proper stock of ingenuity and invention.
Had such been their unhappy circumstances,
there would be reason enough to presume that
their system was defective. For the first attempts
towards perfection in any art, or science,
will not bear a comparison with those happier
and more successful efforts, which a length of
time and continued application enable men to
make. But the case of those good men, we
know, was wholly different. They had only
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">191</span>
to copy, or, rather, to inspect, a consummate
model, made to their hands; I mean, the <i>sacred
scriptures</i>, which lay open to them, as they
do to us; and, being taken by them, as we
understand they were, for their <i>sole</i> rule of
faith, what should hinder them, when they
<i>read</i> those scriptures, from seeing as distinctly,
as we do at this day, what the Gospel-terms of
salvation are, and what <i>the erudition of a
Christian man</i> should be?</p>

<p>Did the primitive Christians, a plain people,
and taken, for the most part, from the lowest
ranks of life, did <i>they</i> understand their religion,
when it was proposed to them, so as to have
no doubt concerning its great and leading principles;
nay, so as to be the standard of orthodoxy
to all succeeding ages of the Church?
and shall we think that the ablest Doctors at the
Reformation, when they had once turned themselves
to the study of the sacred volumes,
could be at a loss about the contents of
them?</p>

<p>“Yes, it will, perhaps, be said; the primitive
Christians had the advantage of reading the
scriptures in the languages in which they were
composed, or of hearing them explained, at
least, by learned and well-instructed teachers:
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">192</span>
whereas, at the Reformation, those languages
were understood by few, or none; and consequently,
in those days, there could be no persons
sufficiently skilled in the sacred scriptures
to ascertain their true meaning.”</p>

<p>But to this charge of ignorance you will easily
reply, by asking,</p>

<p>2. In the next place, whether it can consist
with a <i>known fact</i>, namely, That the revival of
letters had preceded the Reformation every-where,
especially in England; and that the
excellent persons who took the lead in that
work, were all of them, competently, and,
some of them, deeply, skilled in the learned
languages?</p>

<p>Indeed, in the nature of the thing, it is scarce
possible, that the Reformers should be so little
versed, as the objection supposes, in the original
scriptures. For, whether the <i>new learning</i>
as it was called, had, or had not, been cultivated,
<i>before</i> the Reformation began, we may
be sure it would <i>then</i> be cultivated with the
utmost assiduity; both, because it was a <i>new</i>
learning, that is, because the charms of novelty
would naturally engage many in the study of
it; and, because no step could be taken in the
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">193</span>
Reformation, without some proficiency in <i>that</i>
learning. Now, if you consider, of what the
human mind is capable, when pushed on by
two such active principles, as <i>learned curiosity</i>,
and <i>religious zeal</i>, you will conclude with
yourselves, even without recurring to positive
testimony, that the Reformers must needs
have made an acquaintance with the authentic
text: <i>such</i> an acquaintance, as would let them
into a clear apprehension, at least, of those
doctrines, which are the <i>elementary</i>, as we
may say, or necessary ingredients in the constitution
of a truly Christian Church.</p>

<p>If you hesitate about coming to this conclusion,
the reason, I suppose, is, that you
consider the Reformers as just then emerging
from the darkness of Popery, and therefore so
far blinded by the prejudices of <i>that</i> church<a id="FNanchor_108" href="#Footnote_108" class="fnanchor">108</a>,
or by their own<a id="FNanchor_109" href="#Footnote_109" class="fnanchor">109</a> prejudices against it, as not
to see distinctly, and at once, the true sense of
Scripture, though they might be competently
skilled in the learned languages. And, possibly,
there is some truth, as well as plausibility,
in this suggestion, as applied to the
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">194</span>
case of the foreign Protestant Churches, which
were formed with too much haste, and in a
time of too much heat, to be quite free from
all such exceptions. But, then, you will call
to mind,</p>

<p>3. <i>Thirdly</i>, that the Reformation was not
carried on with us in a precipitate tumultuary
manner, as it was, for the most part, on the
Continent. On the other hand, it advanced,
under the eye of the magistrate, by slow degrees;
nay, it was, more than once, checked
and kept back by him. Hence it came to pass,
that there was time allowed for taking the full
benefit of all discoveries, made abroad; for
studying the chief points of controversy, with
care; and for getting rid of such mistakes, as
might arise from a hasty or passionate interpretation
of holy Scripture. In short, you will
reflect, that, between the first contentions in
Germany; on the account of Religion, and the
first establishment of it in the Church of England,
under Elizabeth, there was the space of
near half a century: a space, sufficient, you
will think (especially, if the activity of those
times be considered) to admit all the <i>improvements
of learning</i>, that were necessary to
those who had the charge of conducting the
Reformation; and all the <i>deliberate circumspection</i>,
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">195</span>
with which it was fit that so great a
work should be finally completed.</p>

<p>If it be said, “that the Reformers are convicted
of ignorance in <i>one</i> important part of
scriptural knowledge, that of <i>Toleration</i>, and
that therefore, possibly, they have erred in
others;” I reply, that this subject had never
been understood, from the first establishment
of Christianity down to the &aelig;ra of the Reformation;
and that the mistakes about it had,
chiefly, arisen, not from a want of seeing what
the Scriptures had revealed, but of knowing
how to reconcile the New Testament to the
Old. If we are, now, able to do this, it is
well. In the mean time, let it be acknowledged,
that no peculiar charge of ignorance
can be brought against the Reformers for misapprehending
a subject, not only difficult in
itself, but perplexed with endless prejudices,
and not yet, as appears, quite disentangled of
them. After all, this doctrine of intolerance,
though it unhappily affected the <i>personal conduct</i>
of our Reformers, has no place in the
<span class="smcap">Liturgy</span> and <span class="smcap">Articles</span> of our Church.</p>

<p>Still, perhaps, the main point, on which
this question, concerning the comparative skill
of the two periods, in matters of religion, turns,
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">196</span>
is yet untouched; which is, that the amazing
progress, confessedly made, since the &aelig;ra of
the Reformation, in all true <i>Philosophy</i>, must
have contributed very largely to the increase of
<i>religious</i> knowledge; and that so much light
of science, as we now enjoy, must have served
to give us a clearer insight, than our benighted
ancestors had, into the <i>revealed doctrines of</i>
Christianity.</p>

<p>But to this so flattering, and, at first view,
not improbable, assumption, it may be replied,</p>

<p>4. In the last place, That the doctrines in
question, being <i>purely Christian</i>, that is, such
as it pleased God to reveal to mankind concerning
his eternal purpose in Christ Jesus,&mdash;that
the doctrines, I say, having this original,
and being of this nature, have, possibly, no
communication with the discoveries of later
times: that, of the divine councils, on such a
subject, we could have known nothing, if the
Revelation had been silent; and that all we <i>do</i>
know, when it speaks clearest, is only <i>what</i>
those councils are, not on what <i>grounds</i> of
reason they stand; whether it be, that such
knowledge is unattainable by our faculties, or
that it was seen to be improper for our situation:
that, to say the least, all the efforts of
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">197</span>
the ablest men to explain the peculiar fundamental
doctrines of our religion, on the principles
of our philosophy, have not hitherto
been so successful, as to make it certain that
these doctrines are indeed cognisable by human
reason: that possibly, therefore, those doctrines
are the objects of <i>faith</i>, simply, and not
of knowledge; in other words, that they are
no clearer to us at this day, than they were to
those plainer men, who lived in the sixteenth
century<a id="FNanchor_110" href="#Footnote_110" class="fnanchor">110</a>.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">198</span></p>

<p>And now, if we recollect the substance of
what has been said&mdash;That our Reformers had
only to consult the <i>Scriptures</i> for a just idea of
the Christian Religion&mdash;that they were likely
enough to <i>understand</i> those Scriptures, being
invited, or rather impelled, to the study of
them, by the most active principles of human
nature&mdash;that they <i>could not but</i> understand
those Scriptures in all the more important
points of doctrine, which they had so much
time and occasion to consider, and which there
wanted no more than a common skill in the
language of Scripture to understand&mdash;and that,
lastly, they could not have understood those
points <i>better</i>, than they did, even with all our
real or fancied skill in philosophy, because, in
truth, philosophy is not applicable to those
points, being matters of pure Revelation, and
not susceptible of any additional clearness from
the exertion of our best faculties, however improved:&mdash;If
these things, I say, are put together,
we shall conceive it possible for our
Reformers to have acquired such a knowledge,
at least, of their religion, as not to deserve that
utter contempt, with which, on a comparison
with ourselves, they are, sometimes, treated.</p>

<p>But a single <small>FACT</small> will, perhaps, speak more
conviction to you, than all these general presumptive
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">199</span>
reasonings. When the question is,
therefore, concerning the degree of religious
knowledge, which such men as Cranmer and
Ridley possessed, let it be remembered, “That
Erasmus (who lived and died before the English
Reformation had made any considerable
progress, and the benefit of all whose light and
knowledge those Reformers, therefore, had)
that this learned man, I say, had, in those
days, explained himself as reasonably, on almost
every great topic of revealed religion, as
any writer has since done; or is now able to do.”</p>

<p>This <i>fact</i>, however, does not imply, that
the age of the Reformation was equally enlightened
with the present; or that the clearer
light, we enjoy, is of no service to religion.
Our improved <span class="smcap">Criticism</span> has been of use in
ascertaining the authority, and, sometimes, in
clearing the smaller difficulties, of the sacred
text; and our improved <span class="smcap">Philosophy</span> has enabled
many great men to set the evidences of
revealed religion, in a juster and stronger light:
but, with the <i>doctrines</i> themselves, our improvements,
of whatever kind, have no concern.
Be our proficiency in human science
what it may, those doctrines are the <i>same</i> still.
Reason, under any degree of cultivation, may
if we please to misapply it, perplex and corrupt
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">200</span>
our faith; but will never be able to see to
the bottom of those <i>judgments</i>, which are
<i>unsearchable</i>, nor to clear up those <i>ways</i>,
which are <i>past finding out</i><a id="FNanchor_111" href="#Footnote_111" class="fnanchor">111</a>.</p>

<p>To conclude: I am not, now, making the
panegyric of those venerable men, to whom
we are indebted for our religious establishment.
They were our inferiors, if you will, in many
respects. But, if, <i>measuring ourselves by
ourselves, and comparing ourselves among
ourselves</i>, we overlook their real abilities and
qualifications; if we pronounce them ignorant
of <i>good letters</i>, because they lived in an age,
which we have learned to call barbarous; and
ignorant of the <i>Christian religion</i>, because
they were not practised in our philosophy; we,
probably, do <small>THEM</small> great injustice, and take,
it may be, not the best method of doing honour
to <small>OURSELVES</small>.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">201</span></p>

<h2 id="SERMON_XIV">SERMON XIV.<br />

<span class="medium">PREACHED APRIL 27, 1766.</span></h2>

<h3>St. <span class="smcap">Mark</span>, iv. 24.<br />

<span class="medium"><i>Take heed what ye hear.</i><br />

Or, as the equivalent phrase is in<br />

St. <span class="smcap">Luke</span>, viii. 18.<br />

<i>Take heed</i> <small>HOW</small> <i>ye hear</i>.</span></h3>

<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">Faith</span>, says the Apostle, <i>cometh by hearing,
and hearing by the word of God</i><a id="FNanchor_112" href="#Footnote_112" class="fnanchor">112</a>. The assertion
was strictly true in the early days of
the Gospel, before books were yet written and
spread abroad for the edification of the Church.
The inlet of faith was, then, the <i>ear</i>: through
that organ only was conveyed, from the tongue
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">202</span>
of the preacher, <i>the word of God</i>. But the
case is much the same at all times; even <i>now</i>,
when books are enough multiplied, and perhaps
more than enough, in the Christian world.
For, it having pleased God, that a standing
ministry should be kept up for the instruction
of mankind in <i>the faith</i>, and a <i>woe</i> being denounced
against such, as have received this
commission, and yet <i>preach not the Gospel</i><a id="FNanchor_113" href="#Footnote_113" class="fnanchor">113</a>,
the <i>sole</i> way by which <i>faith cometh</i> to most
men, and the <i>principal</i>, by which it cometh
to almost all, is still that of <i>hearing</i>. It is
still by the <i>word preached</i>, that men, in general,
come to the faith of Christ, and are confirmed
in the profession of it.</p>

<p>Our Lord, then, foreseeing how much would
depend on this faculty of <i>hearing</i>, and finding
by experience how liable it was to be abused,
thought fit to give his Disciples a particular,
and what may almost seem a <i>new</i>, precept, for
their conduct in this respect. The ancient
masters of rhetoric, and of morals, had frequently
warned their scholars to take heed
what <i>they speak</i>: but our Divine Master carries
his attention still farther; and while his
ministers are required, <i>to speak, as the oracles</i>
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">203</span>
<i>of God</i>, the people are very properly instructed
by him, <i>to take heed what they hear</i>.</p>

<p>Now, that this admonition may have its full
effect, it will be proper to explain the reasons,
on which it is founded; to lay before you the
several considerations which shew of what infinite
concern it is to those, who <i>hear</i> the word,
to be <i>attentive</i> in hearing.</p>

<p>And it naturally occurs, as the</p>

<p>I. <span class="smcap">First</span> reason for this attention, that what
is spoken, is delivered to them, <i>as the word of
God</i>.</p>

<p>When a person in high place and authority
thinks fit to honour us with a message, though
it be in a matter of no great importance, with
what submission is it received! How diligently
do we listen to it! How circumspectly is every
sentence, and even syllable, weighed! We do
not stand to make exceptions to the messenger,
who may have nothing in his own <i>person</i> to
command our respect; we do not much consider
the <i>grace</i> with which he delivers his
message; we are not curious to observe in what
<i>choice</i> or <i>elegant</i> terms it is expressed. We
are only concerned to know, that the message
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">204</span>
has been faithfully related, and then a due regard
is immediately paid to it. And shall God
speak to us by the mouth of his ministers, in
terms which himself dictates, and which we
may verify, if we please, by comparing them
with his own <i>written word</i>,&mdash;shall, I say, the
God of Heaven thus address himself to us, and
we not <i>take heed what and how we hear</i>?</p>

<p>Or, suppose the opinion of a man learned in
any secular profession is reported to us, on a
point which falls within his province, and of
which it concerns us to form a right apprehension,
Is not such <i>opinion</i> received with respect
by us, and studied with care?</p>

<p>And shall our Divine Master be negligently
<i>heared</i>, when he condescends to instruct us
in the way of life and salvation, a subject, of
all others, the most interesting to us; a subject,
which he alone perfectly understands, and concerning
which he will not and cannot mislead us?</p>

<p>Still further, besides the authority of the divine
word, there is something in the <i>nature</i> of
it, which deserves, and, if we be not wholly
insensible, must command our attention.</p>

<p>For shall a little superficial rhetorick be listened
to with regard, perhaps with admiration?
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">205</span>
And shall not the heart-felt truths of the Gospel
warm and affect us? Shall a few spiritless
periods, ranged in measure, and coloured with
art, mere sound and paint, throw an assembly,
sometimes, into joy or grief, or transport it
with indignation?  And can we lend a careless
ear to the word of God, <i>which is quick and
powerful, and sharper than any two-edged
sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder
of soul and spirit, and a discerner of the
thoughts and intents of the heart</i><a id="FNanchor_114" href="#Footnote_114" class="fnanchor">114</a>?</p>

<p>Such is the attention due to the word of
God, when <i>acknowledged</i> under that character.
But</p>

<p>II. A <small>SECOND</small> reason for <i>hearing</i> with caution,
is, that the hearers are required to judge
for themselves whether what is delivered to
them be, <i>indeed</i>, the word of God. Without
this care, impostures may be endless, and the
effect of them fatal.</p>

<p>When we give up ourselves with an implicit
trust to others in mere temporal concerns, the
mischief, although considerable, may yet be
checked by experience; or, at most, as it respects
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">206</span>
this life only, is not conclusive and
irreparable: but in matters of religion, if we
accept <i>that</i> as the word of God, and act upon
it, which has no higher authority than the
word of fallible and presumptuous men, we
may be led into all the visions of fanaticism or
superstition, and into all the crimes which so
naturally spring from both, to the loss of our
future, as well as present happiness.</p>

<p>It pleased God, therefore, from the time
that miracles ceased to be the credentials of
his ministers in the Christian Church, to secure
the faithful from these dangers by the guidance
of the <i>written Word</i>; in which, besides <i>special
rules</i> there given for the trial of <i>the spirits,
whether they are of God</i>, such <i>general principles</i>
are delivered as may direct our judgment.
And by the help of these, interpreted
by the <i>tenor</i> of that word, and the <i>analogy</i> of
faith, we may be secured from all deception or
surprize.</p>

<p>It is true, all men cannot <i>apply</i> these rules
and principles, or not with full knowledge and
effect. Woe, therefore, be to him who abuses
the incapacity of such hearers, by obtruding
on their easy belief his own fancies, as the doctrines
of God! But to the abler hearers of the
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">207</span>
word, to all, indeed, who are competently instructed
in their Religion, the task is not difficult
to avoid gross and dangerous delusions, to
determine for themselves <i>whether the doctrine
be of God</i>, or not. This task, I say, is <i>not
difficult</i>; yet it implies care and circumspection;
and the necessity of discharging it must
be allowed a good argument for <i>taking heed
what we hear</i>.</p>

<p>III. A further reason for this diligence in
<i>hearing</i> is, That the hearers are expected and
required <i>to profit by the word spoken</i>.</p>

<p><i>The word of wisdom and of knowledge is
given to every man to profit withal</i><a id="FNanchor_115" href="#Footnote_115" class="fnanchor">115</a>. It is
not a curious problem, a fine lecture, a trial of
wit, or play of ingenuity, calculated to entertain
us for the time, and to be laid aside and
forgotten by us again, when the occasion is
over. The ministry of the word is of another
kind, and destined to higher purposes. It is
an instrument of reproof, of exhortation, of
instruction in righteousness. <i>The sword of the
spirit</i> is put into the hands of men for no ends
of pageantry and amusement. The minister
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_208">208</span>
of God <i>bears it not in vain</i>. He is entrusted
with it to smite the hearts of the wicked, to
<i>pierce through the souls</i> of unrighteous men,
and to flash conviction in the face of unbelievers.
It is an ordinance of God, by which
he would humble the proud, and convert the
obstinate; strengthen the weak, and confirm
the wise, hearer. Whatever our condition, it
is to be corrected or improved by the word of
God; whatever our necessities, they are to be
relieved by it. But every gift of the spirit, as
well as faith, <i>cometh by hearing</i>: and that not
in the instant, but by degrees; for the Gospel
does not illuminate and sanctify men at once;
but by successive improvements, according to
the care with which we listen to its admonitions,
and the impression they make upon us.
Hence it concerns the hearer, that nothing be
lost, and that <i>the good seed</i> be not committed
to the ground in vain. One <i>truth</i> received,
prepares the mind to entertain a second; that,
a third; and so on, till we become perfect in
the knowledge of the <i>faith</i>. Our moral advances
are made in the same manner: one good
resolution begets another, which again produces
succeeding ones, till, through several intervening
states, we arrive, or almost arrive, at perfect
<i>obedience</i>.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">209</span></p>

<p>And this consideration, indeed, seems to have
been immediately present to our Lord, when
he delivered the admonition in the text. For
so he comments upon, and enforces his own
words&mdash;<i>Take heed what ye hear</i>: [for] <i>with
what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to
you, and</i> <small>TO YOU THAT HEAR, SHALL MORE BE
GIVEN</small>: that is, plainly and certainly, your
proficiency in faith and virtue will depend upon
the degree of attention ye pay to my word, and
shall be proportioned to it; therefore it cannot
be too strict and earnest. Nay, our Lord goes
farther, and in his jealousy, as it were, for the
honour of the word spoken, threatens the listless
hearer, that he should not only not advance
in religious qualifications, but that he should
even lose those, which he already possessed.
<i>For he that hath, to him shall be given</i>: <small>AND
HE THAT HATH NOT, FROM HIM SHALL BE TAKEN
AWAY EVEN THAT HE HATH</small>. And this dispensation
of Providence, as severe as it may seem,
is, I suppose, confirmed by too certain experience,
and is analogous to the rest of God’s
moral government.</p>

<p>It is no slight matter then, <i>how we hear</i>.
And let no idle prejudices prevent or mislead
us. The preacher of the Gospel may, on various
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">210</span>
pretences, be unacceptable to us. Still,
the Gospel itself is not <i>his</i>, but God’s; to which
no <i>circumstance</i> should indispose us. Nay, in
spite of this indisposition, the <i>preacher</i>, if we
resolve to hear, may profit us. For it is not,
I conceive, without example, that such as come
to amuse themselves with a stated discourse,
or perhaps to censure the discourser, have
found their hearts touched by the quickening
power of the word, and have returned with
serious thoughts and better resolutions.</p>

<p>This, I say, is not too much to expect from
the Gospel of Christ, and the grace which attends
it, since we find it recorded of a <i>Pagan
moralist</i>, that, when a young reveller came
into his school, flushed with wine, and (as the
custom of such was) crowned with flowers, and
therefore in no disposition, we may presume,
to profit by his instructions; the philosopher,
however, chose his topics so well, and pressed
them on his gay disciple with such effect, as
to send him away in a graver mood, and without
his garland<a id="FNanchor_116" href="#Footnote_116" class="fnanchor">116</a>. But,
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_211">211</span></p>

<p>IV. The last and most important reason of
all why we should give an attentive ear to the
word of God, is, <i>That we shall finally be
judged by it</i>.</p>

<p>If the Gospel had only proposed to instruct
us in the knowledge of God, that so we might
speculate more ably on divine subjects; or, at
most, refer the knowledge we acquire to present
use; though it could not be denied that
such purpose was an important one, yet, if it
went no further, we might, if we could allow
ourselves in such imprudence, make light of
this, as we do of so many other kinds of instruction.
We should be ignorant, indeed,
and unaccomplished in a very sublime science;
but so we are of many others, and yet are
contented to remain in that ignorance. We
might conduct ourselves foolishly and perversely,
and might suffer much inconvenience, and even
misery, for want of acting on the principles of
this science; but so we do, in many other instances,
for want of acting on the maxims of
art and prudence in the management of our
common concerns, and yet we make a shift to
satisfy ourselves with our condition. But if
the Gospel follow us into another world; if
this immortal volume must be laid open in the
presence of men and angels, and our eternal
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_212">212</span>
doom pronounced out of it, though we would
not obey, or so much as listen to its commands,
when they were so earnestly, so repeatedly,
in this life pressed upon us; if such
be the effect of not <i>hearing</i>, how shall we
excuse our indifference in this respect, or what
can support us under the consciousness of it?</p>

<p>Hear then the awful sentence of Christ
himself, denounced in that Gospel&mdash;<i>He that
rejecteth me, and receiveth not my words,
hath one that judgeth him</i>; <small>THE WORD</small> <i>that
I have spoken, the same shall judge him at
the last day</i><a id="FNanchor_117" href="#Footnote_117" class="fnanchor">117</a>.</p>

<p>Go now, ye careless hearers, ye despisers of
the <small>WORD</small>, and justify to yourselves, if ye can,
your neglect and scorn of it!</p>

<p>When our Lord himself taught in the
streets of Jerusalem, many a <i>supercilious</i>
Pharisee, we may suppose, passed by, without
so much as stopping to hear what this
divine teacher had to say to them: others, if
they gave attention to his words, were only
gratifying an idle, perhaps a malignant curiosity;
they sought occasion from what he
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_213">213</span>
said to intrap him in his discourse, to accuse
him to the rulers, or to vilify him in the eyes
of the people. Again: when this same doctrine
was taught by the Apostle Paul in another
proud city, as proud of its philosophic schools,
as Jerusalem was of its temple, many a contemptuous
sophist, we may believe, disdained
to listen, at all to the <i>foolishness of preaching</i>;
and of those few who did, <i>some</i>, we know,
<i>mocked</i>, while others negligently asked their
companions, <i>What would this babbler say</i>?
But how will both these be astonished in the
last day to find themselves judged by that <i>word</i>
which they neglected, or contemned; by that
word, which they would not <i>hear</i>, though
it was brought home to their doors, or which
they rejected with scorn, when they <i>did</i>
hear it!</p>

<p>Nor think, because neither Jesus nor Paul
hath preached in person to us, that therefore
our case is much different. Jesus and Paul
still speak in the ministers of the word: or,
what if the speakers be widely different, the
<i>word</i> is the same: <i>this treasure we</i> still <i>have</i>,
though <i>in earthen vessels</i><a id="FNanchor_118" href="#Footnote_118" class="fnanchor">118</a>. Nay, in one respect,
our guilt exceeds theirs. The Pharisees
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_214">214</span>
and Philosophers were, alike, ignorant
and unbelieving. We profess <i>to know</i>, and <i>to
believe</i>.</p>

<p>Let <small>US</small>, then, <i>take heed what we hear</i>; lest
our knowledge and belief add terrors to that
day, when <i>the neglected word</i> shall sit in
judgment upon us.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_215">215</span></p>

<h2 id="SERMON_XV">SERMON XV.<br />

<span class="medium">PREACHED NOVEMBER 24, 1765.</span></h2>

<h3><span class="smcap">Rom.</span> xvi. 19.</h3>

<p><i>I would have you wise unto that which is good,
and simple concerning evil.</i></p>

<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">Our</span> blessed Lord had given it in charge to
his followers to be <i>wise as serpents, and harmless
as doves</i><a id="FNanchor_119" href="#Footnote_119" class="fnanchor">119</a>. And the Apostle explains and
enforces this command of his Master, when
he enjoins us in the words of the text, To be
<i>wise unto that which is good, and simple concerning
evil</i>.</p>

<p>I confine myself, at present, to the former
part of the text, and shall enquire into the
properties or characters of <span class="smcap">Christian Wisdom</span>.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_216">216</span></p>

<p>This wisdom consists in the prosecution of
what the Scriptures declare to be the true <i>end</i>
of man, and by such <i>means</i> as they prescribe
to us.</p>

<p>That <i>end</i> is the <small>SALVATION</small> of our souls; and
the <i>means</i>, which lead to it, are <small>FAITH</small> and
<small>OBEDIENCE</small>. Thus far there can be no mistake.
The <i>wise Christian</i> is he who is intent
on securing his <i>eternal</i> interest; and who, to
that end, fortifies his mind with a firm belief of
the <i>doctrines</i>, and conducts his life according
to the <i>precepts</i>, of the Gospel.</p>

<p>I. But <small>PERFECT WISDOM</small>, which consists in
a strict attention to these <i>several</i> particulars,
and according to the true worth of <i>each</i>, is
rarely the lot of human nature. And there
are <i>two</i> ways, in which we are most apt to forfeit
our pretensions to it. <span class="smcap">One</span> is, when our
minds, wholly taken up with the ultimate
<i>object</i> of their hopes, neglect the <i>means</i> which
are appointed to bring them to it: The <small>OTHER</small>,
when we rest in the intervening <i>means</i> themselves,
without a due regard to that <i>final purpose</i>,
for the sake of which they were appointed.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_217">217</span></p>

<p>1. The <small>FORMER</small> of these defects we may observe
in those persons who, from a too warm
and enthusiastic turn of thought, are for subliming
all piety into the trances of mystic contemplation;
as if <i>morality</i> and <i>faith</i> scarce
deserved their notice; and the <i>beatific vision</i>
were as well the <i>object</i>, as <i>end</i> of the Christian
life. Here the fault lies in an impatience to
come at the <i>point</i> we propose to ourselves,
without observing the proper <i>methods</i> which
are to put us in possession of it; and is much
the same phrenzy as we should charge on those
<i>travellers</i>, who, being on their way towards a
distant country, stop short in the contemplation
of all the wonders they have heard reported
of it, without pursuing their journey, or
indeed without taking one step towards it.</p>

<p>2. The <small>OTHER</small> defect of wisdom is seen in
those less sanguine, and, in truth, lukewarm
Christians, who do not, indeed, altogether
neglect the subservient duties of their profession,
but, as not enough considering the <i>prize
of their high calling</i>, grow remiss in the exercise
of them: in which they too much resemble
those <i>same travellers</i>; who, when taking the
ordinary means of arriving at their journey’s
end, fall into an idle way of loitering on the
road, and use not that dispatch and diligence
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_218">218</span>
in their stages, which an earnest consideration
of the <i>end</i>, they have in view, should naturally
inspire.</p>

<p>II. But this duty of Christian wisdom is
further violated, when, with a full respect to
our final <i>hopes and expectations</i>, and a general
intention to pursue them by the <i>means</i>
appointed in holy Scripture, we do not, however,
observe the <i>due bounds and measures</i> of
each; that is, when, of the <i>two</i> appointed
means of salvation, <i>a pure faith</i>, and <i>right
practice</i>, we chose to ourselves a favourite,
and incline too much to <i>one</i>, at the expence of
the <i>other</i>. For,</p>

<p>1. With regard to the distinct provinces of
<small>FAITH</small> and <small>MORALITY</small>, we know there are those,
who, provided they are but sound and orthodox
in their opinions, that they give an entire assent
to the several articles of their creed, and
submit their faith to the entire direction of
Scripture, or perhaps of the church with which
they communicate, suppose the affair of <i>moral
practice</i> of much less importance; and conclude
their devotion for this acceptable sacrifice
of <i>a right faith</i> will excuse their making somewhat
too free with the article of <i>obedience</i>.
Such persons there have been and still are in
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_219">219</span>
all churches; but we know <i>what</i> sect of Christians
is most deeply infected with this error.</p>

<p>2. On the contrary, they who have shaken
off this bondage of superstition, and have observed
the mischiefs which arise in abundance
from this exclusive attachment to creeds and
confessions, are very apt to run into the other
extreme; and, because they find <i>morality</i> to
be of eternal obligation, make the less account
of <i>faith</i> and right opinion. As the former
excess is the peculiar disgrace of <i>Popery</i>, this
other has frequently been objected to <i>Protestantism</i>.
<i>Both</i> are manifest violations of
<i>Christian wisdom</i>; which, besides that it commands
an equal reverence for the two tables
of the divine law, should further instruct us,
<i>that as faith without works is vain</i>, so <i>good
works</i> themselves, unassisted and unsanctified
by <i>faith</i>, are either not so perfect, or not so
acceptable from us Christians, as otherwise
they might be. Not to observe, that as the
articles of our holy faith may be founded on
<i>reasons</i>, which we do not know; so the belief
or rejection of them may have <i>consequences</i>,
which we cannot foresee.</p>

<p>III. And with this preparation, let us now
descend to still more particular reflexions on
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_220">220</span>
the duty which lies upon us to approve our
<i>wisdom</i> in the <i>public profession</i> of that faith,
and the <i>manifestation</i> of that practice. <i>Christian
wisdom</i> requires an attentive regard to the
main <i>end</i> we have in view, and to the <i>methods</i>
by which we are instructed to obtain it. But
still there is great room for discretion to shew
itself in the <i>management and pursuit</i> of those
methods. One <i>manner</i> of doing the good, we
are appointed to do, will be preferable to another.
And it is a great part of Christian prudence
to be ready and expert in discovering
and acting upon that <i>preference</i>. This indeed
is a large field; nor is it possible to enumerate
all the cases which fall within this province of
true wisdom. But to prescribe to <i>ourselves</i>
some plan, however defective, we may consider,
that, if a constant regard be had to <i>ourselves</i>,
to our <i>own character and circumstances</i>, our
virtues will then be most <small>GRACEFUL</small>; if to the
exigencies of the <i>times</i> and <i>places</i> in which we
live, most <small>SEASONABLE</small>; and, lastly, if to the
<i>persons</i>, <i>conditions</i>, and <i>characters</i> of other
men, they will thus become most <small>ATTRACTIVE</small>
and <small>EFFICACIOUS</small>.</p>

<p>1. It was a point the masters of ancient wisdom
took a singular pleasure to inculcate, and
we find an equal stress laid upon it by the sacred
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_221">221</span>
writers, that a strict <i>decorum</i> be observed
in the exercise of our virtues; or, in other
words, that the <i>good</i> we do be that which is <i>fit</i>
and <i>decent</i>, considering our <i>circumstances and
characters</i>. Thus we find one set of duties
more especially recommended to the <i>young</i>,
another to the <i>aged</i>; some to <i>private</i> persons,
others to such as are in <i>place and authority</i>.
Different <i>professions</i> in life have also different
sets of offices belonging to them; or in such as
are <i>common</i> to all, propriety demands, that
they be evidenced in very different <i>manners</i>.
The virtues we expect in the <i>poor man</i>, are
humility, industry, and resignation. These too
are virtues, from the obligation of which no
<i>rich man</i> is exempted; but it would be strangely
<i>misbecoming</i>, if <i>he</i> did not surpass the <i>other</i> in
acts of charity and beneficence. And in respect
of the same <i>common</i> virtue, suppose <i>charity</i>,
what the <i>one</i> would very commendably discharge
by little acts of service and assiduity
towards his distressed neighbour, might require
a very considerable expence of wealth or labour
in the <i>other</i>. Nay, the several humours and
dispositions of men will occasion a difference,
if not in the <i>matter</i> of their duty, yet in the
<i>way</i> in which it will become them to express
it. An eminent moralist, indeed, carried this
point of <i>decorum</i> very far when he would justify
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_222">222</span>
so bad an action, as <i>suicide</i>, and which he
owns he should have condemned in any other,
from the singular turn of Cato’s temper and
virtue<a id="FNanchor_120" href="#Footnote_120" class="fnanchor">120</a>. But thus much may be said with
great truth: that an action, good in itself, may
come with a better grace from one man than
another. A lesson of good advice, for instance,
might be requisite from the liveliest man to his
friend; but it would have additional weight
and propriety from one of a graver disposition:
and certainly what the <i>former</i> could only hint
with address, the <i>latter</i> might be allowed to
enforce with much earnestness and authority.</p>

<p>In short, if we study <i>ourselves</i>, and reflect
what our <i>station</i>, <i>character</i>, or <i>nature</i> is, we
shall best discern what the virtues are, and in
what manner to be expressed, which sit most
properly and <i>gracefully</i> upon us. And to give
a diligent attention to these is no mean part of
<i>moral wisdom</i>. But,</p>

<p>2. We must look beyond ourselves; we must
consider what the condition of the <i>times</i>, what
the state of the <i>places</i> in which we live, may
require of us. I do not mean that religion is a
matter of <i>policy</i>; or that virtue is a mere <i>local</i>
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_223">223</span>
consideration. But when the question is, how
we may do the <i>most</i> good by our religious or
moral conduct, a prudent accommodation of
ourselves to time and place will be very necessary<a id="FNanchor_121" href="#Footnote_121" class="fnanchor">121</a>.
The primitive Christians were not
<i>wise unto that which is good</i>, when they provoked
the cruelty of their enemies, and offered
themselves without cause to the racks and fires
of persecution. Nor would <i>they</i> be less blameable,
who, in a careless, prophane age, when
<i>silence</i> would be readily taken for <i>assent</i>:
when, not to profess the faith would be construed
to renounce it, should, from a too
scrupulous fear of giving offence, forbear to
make an open confession of their religion. The
exigencies of <i>times</i>, we see, are very different.
A wise man would have endeavoured to moderate
the excessive zeal, which prevailed in the
<i>former</i> of these periods: he would apply himself
to raise and quicken it, were he to find
himself in the circumstances described in the
<i>latter</i>. Or, to explain myself by a case which
may still more nearly affect us. There was a
<i>time</i>, when the religion of our country consisted
too much in a zeal for unintelligible
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_224">224</span>
articles and superstitious ceremonies; when
Popery had enslaved both mind and body, had
bent the <i>one</i> to an implicit acquiescence in the
doctrines of the Church, and burthened the
<i>other</i> with a constant unprofitable exercise of
its worship. How then was the <i>wisdom</i> of a
good man to express itself in these circumstances?
In dispelling, it will surely be said,
the gloom of superstition; in asserting the
great privileges of natural reason, and in pressing
the obligation and necessity of a good life,
as of more worth than all ceremonial observances.</p>

<p>This <i>was</i> the service rendered by the best
men of those days to true Religion; and <i>we</i>
have reason to bless and revere their memories
for it. But should the liberty into which we
are called, degenerate into licentiousness;
should it ever be common for men, in the fear of
<i>believing</i> too much, not to believe what the
Scriptures themselves plainly require of them;
and from the apprehension of relapsing into
their old superstitious practices, to give little or
no regard to the duties of external worship:
should this at any time be the case, those truly
wise men, who laboured so profitably to check
the <i>other</i> extreme, would certainly, in this different
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_225">225</span>
state of things, apply themselves with
equal earnestness to correct <i>this</i>. Not that their
former practice was not good in itself, but that,
by a change in the disposition of the times, it
was now become less <i>seasonable</i>.</p>

<p>3. We are, lastly, to have a regard to the
<i>conditions</i>, <i>characters</i>, and <i>persons</i> of those
with whom we converse; this attention being
especially requisite to render our virtues <i>attractive
and efficacious</i>.</p>

<p>The philosopher that took upon him to discourse
on the science of war, did not enough
consider his own <i>character</i>. If he chose to do
this in an age which wanted no such instructions,
his conduct was certainly <i>unseasonable</i>.
But when he presumed to instruct the greatest
general and commander in the world, he deserved
the censure which has disgraced him
with all posterity<a id="FNanchor_122" href="#Footnote_122" class="fnanchor">122</a>. A decorum like this is
required in our attempts to promote truth and
virtue. To dictate in such matters to persons
wiser than ourselves, or to persons, who by
their stations and characters should, in all
reason, be supposed wiser, is a manifest indiscretion,
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_226">226</span>
and can never be attended with any
good consequences. Were <i>we</i> ever so able to
instruct, or were <i>they</i> ever so much in want
of instruction, <i>prudence</i> would suggest a very
different conduct. It would recommend to us
all the honest arts of insinuation and address;
it would oblige us to watch the fittest seasons
and opportunities; or, perhaps, to content
ourselves with the silent admonition of a good
example. Or, were there nothing in the <i>rank
and condition</i> of those we would work upon, to
restrain us to this caution, we might even be
required to shew a condescension to their very
<i>prejudices and humours</i>. The errors of men
may sometimes be removed by arguing with
them on their own mistaken principles; by
allowing all that truth and reason will warrant
to their opinions; by putting the fairest construction
upon their designs; by hinting objections
to their wrong tenets, instead of fiercely
declaiming against them; above all, by testifying
a sincere disposition to advance truth and
goodness, without any indirect views to our
own interest. Or, were all other considerations
out of the case, we could never be excused
from proceeding in the way of gentleness and
civility, from treating them with due respect,
and expressing the sincerest good-will to their
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_227">227</span>
<i>persons</i>. Be their <i>moral</i> or <i>religious</i> defects
what they will, we should hardly be <i>wise</i>; that
is, we should take very improper methods of reclaiming
them from <i>either</i>, if we reproved with
bitterness, advised with insolence, or condemned
with passion. In all addresses to mistaken or
bad men, where our purpose is to inform or
amend them, the gentlest <i>applications</i> are
surely the best, because <i>these</i> excite no passion
to counteract their <i>virtue</i>.</p>

<p>And now, at length, should it be asked who
is that <small>WISE CHRISTIAN</small> whom the text designs
and recommends to our imitation, we
are able to furnish, at least, the outline of his
character.</p>

<p>“<span class="smcap">He</span> is one who sets before him the great
END and prize of his <i>high calling</i>; who, in his
progress through the various stages of <i>this</i> life,
keeps in constant view the immortal happiness
which his religion holds out in prospect to him
in <i>another</i>: who, in humble adoration of his
God and Saviour, is content to wait the appointed
season which is to crown his hopes and
expectations; and, for the present, is sollicitous
to <i>work out his salvation with fear</i> and
reverence, by an earnest application of his
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_228">228</span>
time and pains to those <i>subservient duties</i>,
which are to qualify him for the enjoyment of
Heaven; who subjects all the towering conceits
of his <i>understanding</i>, to the <i>doctrines</i> of
the Gospel, and the impetuous sallies of his
<i>will</i>, to the <i>precepts</i> of it; who makes no audacious
separation of what the wisdom of God
hath joined together; but, whilst he adores
the mysteries of his holy <small>FAITH</small>, walks on in
the plain and humble path of moral <small>OBEDIENCE</small>.
He is <i>one</i>, who thinks it not enough to rest in
the mere <small>MATTER</small> of his duty, but performs it
in such a <small>MANNER</small> as will render it most exemplary
and efficacious. He knows it to be a
great precept of his religion, to see, <i>that his
good be not evil spoken of</i>. He would not
disgrace the <i>best</i> cause in the world by the
neglect of those decencies, which, as he observes,
have sometimes the strange power to
recommend the <i>worst</i>. The good he intends,
therefore, is attempted in such a way, as is
most <small>BECOMING</small> of himself; most <small>SEASONABLE</small>
in respect of the opportunities which are offered
to him; and most agreeable and <small>PERSUASIVE</small>
to other men. In short, <small>HE</small> is one who,
taking <i>Prudence</i> for his guide, and <i>Innocence</i>
for his companion, thinks himself secure in
these attendants; and therefore neglects no
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_229">229</span>
<i>decorum</i>, which the best philosophy prescribes;
no <i>art</i>, which the soundest policy suggests;
and no <i>address</i>, which the politest manners
recommend: and so, in the high emphatic
sense of the words, approves himself a <small>WISE
MAN</small>; <i>wise unto that which is good</i>, to all
purposes in <i>this</i> world, as well as in a
<i>better</i>.”
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_230">230</span></p>

<h2 id="SERMON_XVI">SERMON XVI.<br />

<span class="medium">PREACHED DECEMBER 1, 1765.</span></h2>

<h3><span class="smcap">Rom.</span> xvi. 19.</h3>

<p><i>I would have you wise unto that which is good,
and simple concerning evil.</i></p>

<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">In</span> considering the first part of this precept,
I endeavoured to give some general description
of Religious or <small>CHRISTIAN WISDOM</small>; both in
respect of the <small>END</small> it has in view, and of the
<small>MEANS</small> employed by it: I further exemplified
some of those subordinate <small>WAYS</small>, in which the
prudent application even of those <i>means</i> is
seen and expressed: And all this, for the sake
of those sincere, but over-zealous persons, who
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_231">231</span>
are apt to think that <i>wisdom</i> hath little to do
in the prosecution of honest and upright purposes.</p>

<p>It now remains to treat that other part of
the text, which requires us to be <small>INNOCENT</small>,
as well as <i>wise</i>, to be <small>SIMPLE CONCERNING EVIL</small>.
And this, perhaps, will be thought the more important
branch of the subject. For, generally
speaking, the ways of <i>wisdom</i>, when our purposes
are the very best, are not only the most
effectual, but the safest and most convenient.
So that <i>prudence</i> is likely to be a favourite
virtue with us. But the case is different with
regard to <i>simplicity concerning evil</i>; which is
often found a hard and disagreeable injunction;
as it may happen to cross our passions and the
more immediate views of self-interest. So that
this <small>SIMPLICITY</small> will sometimes seem, what the
world is ready enough to call it, <i>folly</i>: and
therefore, for the credit of our <i>sense</i>, as well
as virtue, we should be well apprized of the
worth and excellence of this Christian duty.</p>

<p>The virtue of <small>SIMPLICITY</small> consists, in general,
in following the plain ingenuous sense of the
mind; in taking our measures according to the
dictates of conscience, and acting, on all occasions,
without reserve, duplicity, or self-imposture,
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_232">232</span>
up to our notions of obligation. It
is the office of <small>WISDOM</small> to see that our conscience
be rightly informed: But our <small>INTEGRITY</small>
is shewn in doing that which conscience,
be it erroneously informed or no, requires of
us. It consists, in a word, in whatever we
understand by an <i>honesty of nature</i>; in observing,
universally, that which we believe to
be <i>right</i>, and avoiding what we know, or but
suspect<a id="FNanchor_123" href="#Footnote_123" class="fnanchor">123</a> to be <i>wrong</i>.</p>

<p>This <i>simplicity of mind</i> may be almost said
to be born with us. It is the bias of nature on
our young minds; and our earliest instructions,
as well as the first efforts of reason, strengthen
and confirm it. But the impression lasts not
long. We are scarcely entered into life, when
we begin to treat it as one of <i>those childish
things</i>, which it is beneath the dignity of our
riper age to be amused with. The passions
put forth and grow luxuriant; and why, we
say to ourselves, should this tender apprehension
of evil check their growth, and restrain
their activity? We are now in the season
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_233">233</span>
of <i>pleasure</i>; and can there be any hurt in
taking a little of it, out of that narrow path,
which our early prejudices have prescribed to
us?</p>

<p>Still, as we advance in years, fresh objects
arise, and other passions engage us in the pursuit
of them. Wealth and honour, or what
we improperly call our <i>interests</i>, have now an
ascendant over us; and the passion for each is
rarely gratified but at the expence of some
virtue. And thus it comes to pass, that, though
we set out in the world with a warm sense of
truth and honour, experience by degrees refines
us out of these principles; and our hearts,
instead of retaining that <i>infant</i> purity, the
grace and ornament of our nature, and which
Christ so especially requires<a id="FNanchor_124" href="#Footnote_124" class="fnanchor">124</a> in the professors
of his religion, are all over stained with fraud,
dissimulation, and disingenuity. We are even
proud of the acquisition, and call it a <i>knowledge
of life</i>: so dextrous are we in giving a good
name to our worst qualities!</p>

<p>But effects follow their causes; and the vice
we are now considering is not the less operative,
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_234">234</span>
nor the less hurtful, for the specious
terms in which we dress it up, and present it
to each other.</p>

<p>Of its malignity I shall give two or three
instances; and, to fit them the better for use,
they shall be taken from very different quarters;
from the <i>cabinets of the wise, and the
schools of the learned</i>, as well as from the <i>vulgar
haunts of careless and licentious men</i>. We
shall learn, perhaps, to reverence the Apostle’s
advice, when we find that the neglect of it has
<small>DEGRADED RELIGION</small>; <small>RELAXED MORALITY</small>, and
<small>POLLUTED COMMON LIFE</small>.</p>

<p>To begin with an instance which shews how
dangerous it is to depart from this <i>simplicity
concerning evil</i>, in the great concerns of <small>RELIGION</small>.</p>

<p>I. When the priest, the sage, and the politician
joined together in the days of heathenism
to propagate among the people a superstition,
which themselves condemned and detested;
when they did their utmost to support a senseless,
an immoral, an irreligious worship; when
they strove, by every seducing artifice, to keep
up that strong delusion, which God, in his
just indignation, had sent among them, to
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_235">235</span>
believe a <i>lye</i>, (for such in its whole fabric and
constitution was the old Pagan idolatry) when
these men, who <i>knew the truth</i>, were yet contented
<i>to hold it in unrighteousness</i>; they believed,
no doubt, nay, they made no scruple
to boast, that they had acted with consummate
prudence; and that, in sacrificing the
interests of religious truth (a small matter in
their estimation) they had most effectually
provided for the public interest. But what
sentence does the Scripture pass on these men
of ancient and renowned wisdom? Why this
severe and mortifying one, That <i>professing
themselves wise, they became fools</i>. And how
well they deserved this censure, we understand
from their own history; where we read, That
Pagan idolatry, thus countenanced and supported,
teemed with all the vices, of which our
depraved nature is capable; and that the several
contrivances of its wise advocates to keep
an impious and barefaced falshood in credit,
served only to produce, <i>first</i>, a <small>SUSPICION</small>, and
in the <i>end</i>, an open and avowed <small>CONTEMPT</small>, of
all Religion.</p>

<p>However, the ends of <i>divine wisdom</i> were
greatly promoted by this sad experience of <i>human
folly</i>. For Christianity, which made its
appearance at this juncture, found it an easier
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_236">236</span>
task to establish itself on the ruins of a fallen,
or falling superstition. <i>Truth</i>, which had for
so long a time been anxiously kept out of sight,
was now the more welcome to those, who wished
her appearance. And the detection of those
prophane arts, which had been so manifestly
employed in that service, disposed the most
perverse or careless the more easily to reconcile
themselves to her.</p>

<p>And it would have been happy if the sense
of this advantage, which the <i>simplicity of
truth</i> obtained, in the first pages of the Gospel,
over all the frauds of imposture, had prevented
Christians from copying afterwards what they
had so successfully contended against and exposed.
Then had a great dishonour of the
Christian name been avoided. But that <i>truth</i>,
whose virtues are here magnified, must not be
dissembled. The practice of <i>lying</i> for the
cause of God, too soon revived, and became
too frequent in the Christian world. It is in
vain to think of diverting your minds, more
especially, from that great part of it, which
has long since forgotten to be <i>simple concerning
evil</i>. But true <i>wisdom will ever be justified
of her children</i>. These dishonest arts, which
could not support a bad cause, have been injurious
and disgraceful to the <i>best</i>. They have
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_237">237</span>
corrupted the ingenuous spirit of the Gospel,
they have adulterated the sincere word of God;
and, in both ways, have produced innumerable
mischiefs, in civil and religious life. They
have helped to bring into discredit or disuse a
true <i>Christian temper</i>; and have unhappily
created in the minds of many an undeserved
prejudice against the <i>Christian faith</i>.</p>

<p>II. But if these men have dishonoured <i>Religion</i>,
others have defiled <small>MORALITY</small>; yet both
assume to themselves the title of <i>wise</i> men;
and for that very reason, because they have
departed as far as possible from the virtue of
<i>simplicity</i>.</p>

<p>And here your indignation cannot but rise
more especially against a set of men, who, applying
the subtleties of school-philosophy to the
plain science of Ethics, have made as free with
the <i>precepts</i> of the Gospel, as some others had
done with its <i>doctrines</i>. These men, under the
respectable name of <span class="smcap">Casuists</span>, have presumed
to wind up, or let down the obligation of moral
duties to what pitch they please. Such as have
taken the <small>STRICTER</small> side, deserve but small
thanks for perplexing the minds of good men
with needless scruples; and discouraging the
rest with those austerities, which our Religion
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_238">238</span>
no where commands, and the condition of human
life will not admit. But for that <i>looser</i>
sort, who by a thousand studied evasions, qualifications,
and distinctions, dissolve the force
of every moral precept; and, as the Pharisees
of old, <i>make the word of God of none effect</i>
by their impious glosses, I know not what term
of reproach you will think bitter enough for
<i>them</i>. The sacred writers thought it sufficient
to deliver the rules of life in <i>general</i> terms<a id="FNanchor_125" href="#Footnote_125" class="fnanchor">125</a>;
leaving it, as they well might, to common
sense and common honesty, to make the application
of them to <i>particular</i> cases, as they
chanced to arise. But this officious sophistry
intervening and perverting the ingenuous sense
of the mind, instructs us how to transgress
them all with impunity, and even innocence.
By the help of this magic, we may extract the
sting of guilt from every known sin; and, if
we have but wit enough, may be as wicked as
we please with a safe conscience.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_239">239</span></p>

<p>If the features of this corrupt casuistry have
not been overcharged; or, indeed, if there be
any such thing in the world as a corrupt casuistry,
it may concern us to reflect, that this pest
of society could not have arisen but from a
contempt of the Apostle’s rule, <i>of being simple
concerning evil</i>.</p>

<p>III. Hitherto we have exemplified the breach
of this rule in the <i>learned</i>, and the <i>wise</i>. And
it may be thought that nothing but perverted
science could qualify men for so prodigious a
depravity. But there is a casuistry of <i>the heart</i>,
as well as head; and we find by woeful experience,
that men may refine themselves out of
that <i>simplicity</i> which the Gospel enjoins, without
the assistance of <i>unblessed knowledge</i>.</p>

<p>For I come now, in the last place, to instance
in the vulgar tribes of <i>libertine and
careless men</i>. Of whom we may observe, that
when indulged passion has taught them to
make light of an honest mind; the consequence
is, that they run into all excesses, and are
rarely hindered from <i>working all uncleanness
with greediness</i>. It is true, indeed, that no
man becomes at once desperately and irretrievably
wicked. But it is not less true, that
when this great step is taken of prevaricating
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_240">240</span>
with a man’s own conscience, the other stages
of iniquity are presently passed over. And
how indeed can it be otherwise? So long as a
man preserves the integrity of his natural disposition,
there is always hope that, though
particular passions may prevail for a time, reason
and virtue will, in the end, regain their
dominion over him. At least, he will be constantly
checked and kept back in the career of
his vices. But when this sincerity of heart is
lost; when he confounds the differences of
right and wrong, palliating the deformities
of vice, or bestowing on vice itself the
attractions of virtue; then all reasonable expectation
of a return is cut off; since this perverted
ingenuity tends to make him easy under
his sins, and leaves him at leisure to pursue
his evil courses with security.</p>

<p>We see then from the excesses into which
these different sorts of men have been led, by
the refinements of <small>POLICY</small>, of <small>ABUSED SCIENCE</small>,
and <small>DELUSIVE PASSION</small>, how dangerous it is to
bid adieu to that <i>simplicity concerning evil</i>,
which the Holy Apostle requires of us.</p>

<p>It remains, that we cannot provide too cautiously
against those evasive <small>PLEAS AND PRETENCES</small>,
which would incline us to part with it.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_241">241</span></p>

<p>These <small>PRETENCES</small> are infinite: for, when
the <i>heart</i> is corrupted, the <i>understanding</i> is
ready to pander to every lust that importunes
it. But we may know the principal of them
by these signs. To be <i>simple concerning evil</i>
is the easiest thing in the world; but we may
suspect that something <i>wrong</i> is ready to intrude
itself, “<small>WHEN</small> we cast about for excuses
to cover the nakedness of ingenuity; when we
are driven to distinctions and far-fetched reasoning
for our justification; when we pause a
moment between the clear conviction of duty,
on one hand, and any indirect views on the
other; more <i>particularly</i>, <small>WHEN</small> we find the
tone of our virtue relax at the consideration of
what we may chance to lose by adhering to it;
when we but suspect, that a severe unqualifying
virtue looks like inhumanity; when we
think our dependencies and connexions in life
have a demand upon conscience; when we
lament with the politician, that <i>good men are
impracticable</i>, and so, from a principle of
public spirit, resolve not to encounter that
prejudice: Above all, when we go about to
regulate morality by what <i>a knowledge of the
world</i> teaches; when <i>custom</i> is pleaded in opposition
to <i>duty</i>, and vice itself authorized by
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_242">242</span>
<i>fashion</i><a id="FNanchor_126" href="#Footnote_126" class="fnanchor">126</a>; when we acknowledge what we do
is in itself not justifiable, but excuse it by a
pretence of the good ends we hope to serve by
it; when we are willing to plead the infirmity
of nature, the power of temptation, the prevalence
of example; when we venture too securely
on the confines of immorality, and are
curious to know how near we may go to vice,
without being directly vicious.”</p>

<p>These, and such as these, are the dangerous
insinuations which attempt our virtue. And
how, you will ask, shall we secure ourselves
from them? By reason and argument? By
speculation and philosophy? Shall we stay to
examine their several pretences, call these delusive
pleas to account, and shew we can confute
them all, before we reject them?</p>

<p>Alas, I dare not advise this method; which
besides its other inconveniencies, is not, I doubt,
a very safe one. Our heads may be unequal
to the task; or, which is worse, our hearts
may betray us. At the best, we shall waste
much time in these ingenious inquiries, when
the business of life demands an immediate
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_243">243</span>
determination. St. Paul has shewn us a shorter
and <i>more excellent way</i>, when he bids us, <i>Be
simple concerning evil</i>. In virtue of this sacred
admonition, a wise man will think it sufficient
to dismiss these vain insinuations at
once, without so much as spending a thought
upon them. “What,” he will say to himself,
“if I cannot detect the falsehood of these pleas,
I have a <i>heart</i>, that revolts against them.
I cannot, perhaps, disentangle the sophistry
of these arguments; but I <i>feel</i> the baseness
of the conclusion, and I <i>see</i> in others
the folly of acting upon it. It were ill with
<i>vice</i> indeed, if it had no false colours to appear
in; and <i>error</i> would be hooted out of
the world, if she did not hide her obliquities
under the garb of reason. But what are
these disguises to me, who am neither
dazzled by the one, nor duped by the other?
Let the curious, if they will, inquire, wherein
the imposture consists: I have that within
me, which tells me in a moment, they are
but impostures. In vain then, will such a
one conclude, are these insidious attempts
on me, who take a sure refuge in the word
of God, and the integrity of my own virtue.
Be the pretences what they will, the confutation
of them is no part of a Christian’s
care. I may exercise my understanding
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_244">244</span>
profitably in other matters. It is my duty
to consider much of the ways of <i>doing good</i>.
I may be prudent and <small>WISE</small> here. But, <small>EXPERIENCE</small>,
and <small>CONSCIENCE</small>, and <small>RELIGION</small>,
command me to be, <small>SIMPLE CONCERNING
EVIL</small>.”
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_245">245</span></p>

<h2 id="SERMON_XVII">SERMON XVII.<br />

<span class="medium">PREACHED NOVEMBER 22, 1772.</span></h2>

<h3><span class="smcap">John</span> v. 44.</h3>

<p><i>How can ye believe, which receive honour one
of another, and seek not the honour that
cometh of God only?</i></p>

<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">It</span> has been thought unfair to charge unbelief,
simply and indiscriminately, on the grosser
passions. The observation, I believe, is just:
and yet it may be true, notwithstanding, that
unbelief is always owing to <i>some or other</i> of
the passions. The evidences of revealed religion
are so numerous, and upon the whole so
convincing, that one cannot easily conceive
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_246">246</span>
how a reasonable man should reject them all,
without the intervention of some secret prejudice,
or predominant affection.</p>

<p>Of these <i>prejudices and affections</i>, one of
the commonest, and the most seducing of any
to the better sort of unbelievers, is that irregular
love of <i>praise and reputation</i>, which
our Lord condemns in the text&mdash;<i>How can ye
believe, which receive honour one of another,
and seek not the honour that cometh from God
only?</i></p>

<p>The question, we may observe, is so expressed,
as if we <i>could not</i> receive honour from
one another, and believe, at the same time; as
if there was a physical, at least a moral impossibility,
that these two things should subsist
together. And we shall find, perhaps, the
expression no stronger than the occasion required,
if, besides other considerations, we
attend to the following; which shew how inconsistent
a true practical faith in the Gospel
is with the sollicitous and undistinguishing
pursuit of human glory.</p>

<p>For, I. <i>The Gospel</i> delivers many of its
doctrines as inscrutable, and silences the busy
curiosity of our understandings about them:
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_247">247</span>
but the <i>honour of men</i> is frequently obtained
by indulging this curiosity, and pushing the
researches of reason into those forbidden quarters.</p>

<p>II. <i>The Gospel</i> demands an humble and
reverential awe in the discussion of all its doctrines;
such of them, I mean, as it leaves most
free to human inquiry: but this turn of mind
is contrary to that high courage and daring intrepidity,
which the <i>world</i> expects in those
who are candidates for its honour.</p>

<p>III. <i>The Gospel</i> prescribes an uniform and
unqualified assent to whatever it declares of
divine things, whether we can or cannot apprehend
the reason of such declaration: but
this submission to authority, the <i>world</i> is
ready to call ill-faith, and to consider the defiance
of it, as a mark of superior honesty and
virtue.</p>

<p>Thus we see, that <small>WIT</small>, <small>COURAGE</small>, and <small>PROBITY</small>,
the three great qualities we most respect
in ourselves, and for which we receive the
highest honour from each other, appear many
times to the world with less advantage in the
Christian, than the unbeliever. Not, that
Christianity strips us of these virtues: on the
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_248">248</span>
other hand, it requires and promotes them all,
in the proper sense of the words; and they
may really subsist in a higher degree in the
<i>believer</i>, than any other: but they will often
seem to be more triumphantly displayed by
those who give themselves leave to <i>disbelieve</i>;
and the prospect of honour, which that opinion
opens to such men, is one of the commonest
sources from which they derive their infidelity.</p>

<p>But to make good this charge against the
unbelieving world, and to lay open the mysteries
of that insidious self-love, which prompts
them to aspire to <i>fame</i>, by the means of infidelity,
it will be necessary to resume the <small>THREE
TOPICS</small> before mentioned, and to enlarge something
upon each of them.</p>

<p>I. <span class="smcap">First</span>, then, I say, That He, who at all
adventures resolves to obtain the honour of
men, <i>cannot believe</i>, because the unrestrained
exercise of his <small>WIT</small>, by which he would acquire
that honour, is inconsistent with the genius and
principles of our religion.</p>

<p>The fundamental articles of the Gospel are
proposed to us, as objects of faith, not as subjects
of inquiry. As they proceed from the
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_249">249</span>
source of light and truth, they are founded, no
doubt, in the highest reason; but they are for
the most part, at least in many respects, inscrutable
to our reason. It is enough that we
see cause to admit the revelation itself, upon
the evidences given of it: it is not necessary
that we should carry our researches any farther.
It is not safe, or decent, or practicable, in many
cases, to do it. The just and sober reasoner is
careful to proceed on clear and distinct ideas,
and to stop where these fail him. But how
soon does he arrive at this point? For the sublime
genius of Christianity reminds him, at
almost every step, how impossible it is, with
the scanty line of human reason, to fathom the
<i>deep things of God</i>; and represses the sallies
of his wit and fancy, with this reflexion&mdash;<i>how
unsearchable are his judgments, and his
ways past finding out!</i> In a word, where
he finds the subject too obscure for his understanding
to penetrate, or too vast for his
ideas to comprehend (and he presently finds
this, when he attempts to reason on the mysteries
of the Christian faith) he checks his inquiries,
he believes, and adores in silence.</p>

<p>But now this silence, this adoration, is ill
suited to the restless ambition of the human
mind, when it aspires to the reputation of profound
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_250">250</span>
and extensive knowledge. The vain
reasoner would signalize himself on all subjects,
the most abstruse and mysterious, in preference
to others; and fears not to carry his presumptuous
inquiries to the seat and throne of God.
He questions the revealed truths of the Gospel
as freely as any other; and finding them many
times inexplicable by the principles of human
science, he triumphs in the discovery, applauds
his own reach of thought, and dazzles the world
into a high opinion of his wit and parts. The
truth is, he decides on subjects, which he does
not, and cannot understand: but the world
sees, he decides upon them; and that is
generally enough to attract its admiration and
esteem.</p>

<p>Again: In such parts of revealed Religion,
as lie more within the cognizance of human
reason, an inquirer may find difficulties, and
start objections, which the best instructed
believer either does not attempt, or is not able
to resolve. Here, the triumph of wit over faith
is thought conspicuous, and is indeed seducing.
For, while the believer has only to confess his
own ignorance, the infidel shines in exposing
and inforcing those difficulties and objections:
And, when the ingenuity is all on one side, it
is rarely suspected, that reason and good sense
may be, with modesty, on the other.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_251">251</span></p>

<p>Nay, where the point in question can be
effectually cleared up, still their will generally
seem to be more acuteness in discovering a difficulty,
than in removing it: And thus the
subtle caviller in religious controversy shall have
the fortune to pass for a shrewder man, than
the ablest apologist.</p>

<p>And that this advantage of reputation is, indeed,
that which free and libertine reasoners
propose to themselves, you will see by calling
to mind the sort of subjects, which they are
fondest to treat, and the sort of character, which
they are most proud to assume.</p>

<p>In natural religion, the origin of evil, and
God’s moral government, are their favourite
topics: in revealed religion, the fall of human
nature, its restoration by the death and sufferings
of Christ, the incarnation of the Son of
God, and the adorable Trinity. But why are
these high subjects picked out to exercise their
speculations upon? subjects, in which the
sublimest understanding is absorbed and lost;
subjects, which they well know (for I speak of
the abler men in that party) we have no faculties
to comprehend. Why, then, are these
subjects preferred to all others? For an obvious
cause: to shew how ingenious they can
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_252">252</span>
be in perplexing human reason, if any believer
should be indiscreet enough to subject these
mysterious truths to that test.</p>

<p>But the character, they assume, declares
their purpose no less than the arguments they
delight to treat. For their pride is to affect a
sort of pyrrhonism, or universal doubt and
hesitation, even on the plainest points of morals;
to controvert the most received principles and
opinions; and, as the sophists of old, <i>to make
the worse appear the better reason</i>, in all questions
which they undertake to discuss. Would
you desire a stronger proof of the principle
which actuates such men?</p>

<p>II. It appears, then, how the ostentation <i>of
wit</i> leads to infidelity. The affectation of <small>COURAGE</small>
is another snare to those, who lie in wait
for the honour of men.</p>

<p>The believer, it has been observed, presumes
not to reason at all on some points of his Religion.
In others, he is left at liberty; yet on
these, he reasons, always with great reverence
and circumspection. Now, though this conduct
be highly fit and proper, it is not so
likely to strike the observation of men, as a
more forward and enterprizing behaviour. Not
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_253">253</span>
only his understanding is restrained, but his
spirit, they say, is cramped and broken. The
inconsiderate world, on the other hand, is
taken with bold assertions, and hazardous positions;
which it easily construes into a mark
of high courage, as well as capacity. A fearless
turn of mind is a dazzling quality, and we
do not always distinguish between intrepidity
and temerity. Thus it comes to pass, that as
the Christian’s love of peace and charity in
common life, so his cautious respect in religious
matters, has been treated by libertine
men, as pusillanimity. He is considered, in
the fashionable world, as a tame and spiritless
man; and in the learned world, as a tame and
spiritless reasoner.</p>

<p>Hence, when we are bent, at any rate, upon
<i>receiving honour one of another</i>, we are tempted
to make a display, not of our wit only, but our
courage: And, as nothing is thought a surer
indication of this quality, than to make light
of that which the rest of the world hold sacred,
we easily see how a passion for this sort of
fame betrays the unbalanced mind into all the
extravagancies of infidelity.</p>

<p>The instances are frequent, and well-known.
When the Philosopher of Malmsbury, in the
last century, took upon him to resolve all
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_254">254</span>
morality and all religion into the will of the magistrate,
whatever other end he might have in
view, the bold singularity of this paradox was,
no doubt, that which chiefly recommended it
to himself, as well as surprized the world into
an opinion of his bravery: though we know,
from his story, that, in fact, he had no more
of this virtue, than might well have consisted
with faith, and the fear of God. But vain
man oft affects to make a shew of that which
he does not possess: and thus his defect in
true courage, may be the true account of his
pretending to so much of it.</p>

<p>Still, the heart of man is more deceitful,
than we have hitherto seen, or can easily believe:
For who,</p>

<p>III. In the last place, would suspect, that
an admiration of <small>INTEGRITY</small> itself, as well as of
<i>wit</i> and <i>courage</i>, should seduce the unwary
mind into irreligion? Yet so it is, that men,
intoxicated with the love of fame, will sacrifice
any virtue, the best quality they have, to
the reputation of it.</p>

<p>The true believer admits, with a full and
perfect assent, whatever he takes to be clearly
revealed in the Gospel; the most impenetrable
article of his creed, as well as the simplest proposition
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_255">255</span>
in morals. All stands with him on
the same equal footing of divine authority: no
matter, whether he can, or cannot, perceive
the grounds of reason, on which the Revelation
is founded.</p>

<p>But now this facility of belief, this entire
resignation of the understanding to the dictates
of Heaven, the world is ready to suspect, of
disingenuity. And they who live only in the
opinion of that world, would not be exposed
to so dishonourable a suspicion.</p>

<p>The process of their vanity may be traced in
this manner. They have observed, that some
persons (of their acquaintance, it may be)
pretend to more faith than they have. They
suppose the same thing of many others; and
they suppose too, the rest of the world, the
more intelligent part of it at least, are in the
same opinion. But they pique themselves on
their honesty: they will give no man leave to
call in question their good faith; the ornament
of their lives, and the idol of their hearts.
And thus, as many men are ill-bred, for fear
of passing in the world for flatterers; so these
men are unbelievers, that they may not be accounted
hypocrites.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_256">256</span></p>

<p>As extravagant as this turn of mind appears,
it cannot be thought incredible; especially
when united, as it may be, with that pride of
understanding, and courage, before mentioned.
“It is not for <i>me</i>, (says a presuming inquirer
to himself) who am distinguished by a reach
of thought and penetration from the vulgar, to
admit, without scruple, so extraordinary a
system, as that of Revelation. I must doubt
and disbelieve, where others see nothing to
stop at. Nor is it for a man of my spirit to
endure those shackles of reserve and respect,
which oppress the timid and servile believer.
Above all, it becomes the honesty, I profess,
to take no part of my religion upon trust; an
easy submission to what is called authority, is,
with discerning men, but another name for
insincerity. As I tender, then, the reputation
of my <i>wit</i>, my <i>courage</i>, and my <i>integrity</i>, it
concerns me to take heed how I entertain a
belief; which may, at once, shake the credit
of all these virtues.”</p>

<p>This train of sophistry, you see, is not ill
laid; and one conceives how a mind, transported
with the love of false honour, may be
caught by it.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_257">257</span></p>

<p>At first, perhaps, the disbelief is <i>pretended</i>,
only. But pretences<a id="FNanchor_127" href="#Footnote_127" class="fnanchor">127</a>, continued for any time,
become <i>realities</i>. And thus, what was assumed,
to give us the credit of certain virtues
with the world, or with that part of it to which
we desire to recommend ourselves, is at length
embraced with a sort of good faith; and we
are, what we have seemed to be, at the instance
indeed of our vanity, but, as we flatter
ourselves, for the sake of those very virtues.</p>

<p>Something like this, which I have here described,
may have been the case of a well-known
philosopher, who would be thought to
crown his other parts of ingenuity and courage,
with the purest probity<a id="FNanchor_128" href="#Footnote_128" class="fnanchor">128</a>. This unhappy man,
having published to the world an offensive
system of infidelity, and being called to account
for it, replies to his censurer in these
words&mdash;<i>The world may calumniate me, as it
sees fit; but it shall never take from me the
honour of being the only author of this age,
and of many others, who hath written with
good faith</i><a id="FNanchor_129" href="#Footnote_129" class="fnanchor">129</a>.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_258">258</span></p>

<p>What shall we say of this strange boast?
Was it enthusiasm, or the pride of virtue,
that drew it from him? This <i>honest</i> man, we
will say, might believe himself, when he
talked at this rate: but then we must conclude,
that nothing but the most intemperate love of
praise could have wrought him up to so frantic
a persuasion.</p>

<p>I suppose, it may now appear how easily we
become the dupes of any favourite passion;
and how perfect an insight our Lord had into
the nature of man, when he asserted in the
text&mdash;<i>that we cannot believe, if we will receive
honour one of another</i>. <i>We cannot</i>, you
see, <i>believe</i>; because, if that honour be the
ultimate end and scope of our ambition, the
best faculties we possess, the fairest virtues of
our hearts, will pervert, and, in a manner,
force us into infidelity.</p>

<p>Let this humiliating consideration have its
full effect upon us. Above all, let it check,
or rather regulate that ardent desire of fame,
which is so predominant in young and ingenuous
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_259">259</span>
minds. Let such learn from it to mistrust
their passions, even the most refined and
generous, when they would inquire into the
evidences of their religion. Let them remember
that <i>reason</i>, pure impartial reason, is to
direct them in this search; that the passion for
honour is in all cases, but particularly in this
(where it is so seducing) an unsafe and treacherous
guide; and that, to escape the illusions of infidelity
and a thousand other illusions, to which
they will otherwise be exposed in common life,
one certain method will be, To controul their
love of fame, by the love of truth; which is,
in other words, <i>to seek the honour, that cometh
of God, only</i>.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_260">260</span></p>

<h2 id="SERMON_XVIII">SERMON XVIII.<br />

<span class="medium">PREACHED APRIL 23, 1769.</span></h2>

<h3><span class="smcap">John</span>, ix. 41.</h3>

<p><i>Jesus saith to them, If ye were blind, ye
should have no sin; but now ye say we see,
therefore your sin remaineth.</i></p>

<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">These</span> words were spoken by our Lord on
occasion of a great miracle performed by him,
in restoring a man <i>born blind</i> to his sight.
This wonderful display of power had its natural
effect on the man himself, in converting
him to the faith of Jesus; while the Pharisees,
who had the fullest evidence laid before them
of the <i>fact</i>, persisted obstinately in their infidelity.
Yet the <i>blind</i> man, on whom this
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_261">261</span>
miracle had been wrought, was one of those
whom the Pharisees accounted <i>blind</i> in understanding,
also; in other words, he was a plain
unlettered man; whereas they themselves were
<i>guides to the blind</i>, that is, they pretended to
a more than ordinary knowledge of the law and
the prophets, by which they were enabled to
conduct and enlighten others.</p>

<p>Jesus, therefore, respecting at once his late
restoration of the blind man’s <i>sight</i>, and the
different effects of that miracle on the <i>minds</i> of
the two parties, applies, with singular elegance,
to himself, the famous prediction of Isaiah&mdash;<i>For
judgment</i>, says he, <i>am I come into this
world, that they, which see not, might see;
and that they who see, might be made blind</i>.
The Pharisees were, indeed, sharp-sighted
enough to perceive the drift of this application,
and therefore said to him, in the same figurative
language, <i>Are we blind also?</i> To whom
Jesus replied in the words of the text, <i>If ye
were blind, ye should have no sin; but now ye
say we see, therefore your sin remaineth</i>. As
if he had said, “If ye were indeed ignorant of
the law and the prophets, as ye account this
poor man to be, ye might have some excuse
for not believing in <i>me</i>, who appeal to that
law and those prophets for the proof of my
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_262">262</span>
mission; but being so skilled in them, as ye
are, and profess yourselves to be, ye are clearly
convicted of a willful, and therefore criminal,
infidelity.”</p>

<p>It is implied, we see, in this severe reproof
of the Pharisees, that knowledge and faith very
well consist together, or rather that, where
<i>knowledge</i> is, there <i>faith</i> must needs be,
unless a very perverse use be made of that
knowledge.</p>

<p>But to this decision of our Lord, the unbelieving
world is ready to oppose its own maxims.
“It sees so little connexion between <i>faith</i> and
<i>knowledge</i>, that it rather concludes them to be
incompatible: It allows the ignorant, indeed,
who cannot <i>walk by sight</i>, to <i>walk by faith</i>;
but, as for the knowing and intelligent, the
men of science and understanding, it presumes,
that <i>faith</i> cannot be required of these; and
that, <small>BECAUSE</small> <i>they see</i>, it is too much to expect
of them, <i>to believe in Jesus</i>.”</p>

<p>It is true, the persons, who speak thus slightly
of <i>faith</i>, are not the most distinguished in the
world by their own parts, or knowledge. But
a certain mediocrity of <i>both</i>, inflated by vanity,
and countenanced by fashion, is forward to indulge
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_263">263</span>
in this free language; and the mischief
done by it to Religion, is so great, that it may
not be amiss to expose, in few words, the indecency
and folly of it.</p>

<p><span class="smcap">Faith and knowledge</span>, then, it is said, are
at variance with each other. Why? The
answer, I suppose, will be, Because <i>faith</i> is
in itself <i>unreasonable</i>; in other words, it will
be said, That the <i>evidences</i> of our religion are
not convincing, and that the <i>doctrines</i> of it are
not credible.</p>

<p>One word, then, on <i>each</i> of these bold insinuations.</p>

<p>I. The <small>EVIDENCES</small> of <i>revealed religion</i> are so
many and various; they lye so deep, or extend
so wide; and consequently the difficulty of
collecting them into one view is so great, that
few men have, perhaps, comprehended the full
force and effect of them. At least, none but
persons of very superior industry, as well as understanding,
have a right to pronounce on the
total amount of such evidence.</p>

<p>But the <i>chief</i> evidences of the <i>Christian
Religion</i> are drawn from <small>PROPHECIES</small>, and
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_264">264</span>
<small>MIRACLES</small>; and who are they who tell us, that
these methods of proof are unreasonable or unsatisfactory?</p>

<p>1. That the argument from <small>PROPHECIES</small>
should not convince those, who have not considered
the occasion, and design of them, the
purposes they were intended to serve, and
therefore the degree of light and clearness,
with which it was proper they should be given;
who have not studied the language in which
those prophecies are conveyed, the state of the
times in which they were delivered, the manners,
the customs, the opinions of those to
whom they were addressed; above all, who
have not taken the pains to acquire a very exact
and extensive knowledge of history, and so are
not qualified to judge how far they have been
accomplished; that to such persons as these, I
say, the argument from prophecy should not
appear to have all that evidence which believers
ascribe to it, is very likely; but then this effect
is to be accounted for, not from their knowledge,
but their ignorance, not from their <i>seeing</i>
too clearly, but from their not seeing at all, or
but imperfectly, into the merits of this argument.
As for those, who have searched deepest,
and inquired with most care into this kind
of evidence, they depose unanimously in its
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_265">265</span>
favour, and profess themselves to have received
conviction from it. So that, although there
may be difficulties in explaining particular prophecies,
and though the completion of some
be questioned, or not fully apprehended, yet,
on the whole, there is so much light arising out
of this evidence, that it must be great presumption
in any man to say that there is no strength
at all in it. Indeed, if the appeal lie to authority
(as it must do, if men will not, or cannot,
inquire for themselves) we can scarce help concluding
that the argument from prophecy carries
with it a very considerable degree of evidence,
since we find that such a man as Newton, not
only submitted to this evidence himself, but
thought it no misapplication of his great talents,
to illustrate and enforce it. Yet, such is the
judgment or temper of our leaders<a id="FNanchor_130" href="#Footnote_130" class="fnanchor">130</a> in infidelity,
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_266">266</span>
that they had rather turn this very circumstance
to the discredit of human nature
itself (exhibited in its fairest form, and shining
out with full lustre, in the virtues and accomplishments
of that divine man) than allow it
to do honour to that immortal object of their
fear and spite, revealed religion.</p>

<p>2. The other great foundation of our faith is
laid in <small>MIRACLES</small>; a sort of evidence, which
may be estimated without that learning, or that
sagacity, which is required in the case of <i>prophecies</i>;
and which some men therefore, out
of the abundance of their common sense, have
taken the freedom to account of little weight
or value. Yet, what opinion soever these
persons may have of their own understandings,
they will scarce be able to convince a reasonable
man that this evidence is not conclusive,
and even incontestible, if they will but place
it in a fair and just light. For the question is
not concerning the evidence of miracles in <i>general</i>,
but of miracles so circumstanced and so
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_267">267</span>
attested as those of the <i>Gospel</i>. Now, when
the Religion to which this attestation is given,
has nothing in it which appears unworthy of
the Deity; when the purpose for which the
supposed miracles are wrought is such as must
be allowed the most important of any that, in
our ideas, could enter into the divine counsels
with regard to mankind; when these miracles
have further the advantage of being attested by
the most unexceptionable characters, and of
being recorded in books, written soon after
they were <i>wrought</i>, and by those who <i>saw</i>
them wrought, and in books too, which have
been transmitted, without any note of suspicion
on them, to our times; when, lastly, these
miracles have all the circumstances of public
notoriety attending them, when no contemporary
evidence discredits, and when many
otherwise inexplicable facts and events, suppose
and confirm them; when such miracles, I say,
as these, and under such circumstances only,
are alledged in support of the Christian Revelation,
it must be a very extraordinary turn of
mind that can reject, as nothing, the evidence
resulting from them. With any other miracles,
however numerous, however confidently asserted,
or plausibly set forth, we have nothing
to do. There may have been ten thousand
impostures of this sort, in the world. But
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_268">268</span>
<i>these</i> miracles speak their own credibility so
strongly, that they are admitted, on human
testimony, with the highest reason; and it
must be more than a slender metaphysical argument,
taken from their contrariety to what
is called experience, which can prevent our belief
of them, and overpower the natural sense
of the human mind.</p>

<p>It seems then, even on this slight view of
the subject, that, if these two capital arguments
from <i>prophecies and miracles</i>, for the
truth of Christianity, appear inconclusive to
unbelievers, the cause must be some other than
a want of that evidence, which may satisfy a
reasonable man.</p>

<p>II. But, perhaps the <small>DOCTRINES</small> of Christianity
are such as revolt the rational mind,
and are not capable of being supported by any
evidence.</p>

<p>Let us inquire then what truth there is in
this <i>second</i> allegation of unbelievers.</p>

<p>It is not possible, in a discourse of this nature,
to enter into a detail on the subject; but
the chief obstacles to a faith in Jesus, independently
of the evidence on which it rests,
are, I suppose, these <small>TWO</small>.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_269">269</span></p>

<p>1. A confused idea that the law of nature is
sufficient to the salvation of mankind;</p>

<p>2. The mysterious nature of the Christian
revelation.</p>

<p>Reason, they say, is a sufficient guide in
matters of Religion; therefore, Christianity is
unnecessary: Again, Christianity is all over
mysterious; therefore, it is unreasonable.</p>

<p>Now, it will not be presuming too much to
say, that the greater advances any man makes in
true knowledge, the more insignificant must
these <i>two</i> great stumbling-blocks of infidelity
needs appear to him.</p>

<p>1. And, <i>first, for the sufficiency of nature
in matters of religion</i>.</p>

<p>Whether <i>nature</i> be a sufficient guide in <i>morals</i>,
let the history of mankind declare. They
who know most of that history, and have, besides,
a philosophic knowledge of human nature,
are the proper judges of the question;
and to that tribunal I leave it: the <i>rather</i>,
because, though it be very clear what its decision
must be, I hold, that what is most
essential to the Christian religion (which is a
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_270">270</span>
very different thing from <i>a republication of
the law of nature</i>) is not at all concerned
in it.</p>

<p>Let the law of nature be what it will, under
this idea of a guide in morals, let Socrates, if
you please, be as great a master of it, as Jesus,
still the importance of Christianity remains,
and is indeed very little affected by that concession.</p>

<p>Our religion teaches, that man is under the
sentence of mortality, and that immortal life
in happiness, (which is the true idea of Gospel-salvation)
is the gift of God through Christ
Jesus. These it relates as <i>two</i> facts, which it
requires us to believe on its own authority;
<i>facts</i>, which could not otherwise have come to
our knowledge, and on which the whole superstructure
of Christianity is raised.</p>

<p>Now, let the men of reason, the men who
say, <small>WE SEE</small>, tell us, whether they are sure
that these facts are false; and, if they are not,
whether they know of any natural means by
which <i>that sentence of mortality</i> can be reversed,
or <i>that gift of immortality</i> can be
secured.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_271">271</span></p>

<p>Yes, they will say, by <i>a moral and virtuous
life</i>, and by a <i>religious trust</i>, which nature
dictates, <i>in the goodness of the Deity</i>. What?
Is any man so assured of his own virtue, as
that he dares expect so great things from it?
Does he think it so perfect and of such efficacy,
as that it should remove a curse which lies on
his nature, that it should redeem him from a
general sentence, which is gone forth against
all mankind? Is it not enough, that he does
his duty (though where is the man that does
that?) and thereby consults his own true interest
in this world, without requiring that his
merits should deliver him from the doom of
death; or that, of force, they should compel
the divine <i>goodness</i> to deliver him from it?</p>

<p>But say, that the boundless mercy of God
might so far consider the poor imperfect
virtues of his lost creature, as to free him from
the bondage of <i>death</i>, will he pretend that he
has any claim, even upon infinite goodness
itself, for <i>eternal life in glory</i>? All that reason
suggests is, that, some way or other, either
in this state or in one to come, he shall be no
loser by his virtue: but so immense a reward
is surely, not of <i>right</i>; and reason is too modest
to entertain the least expectation, or even
thought of it.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_272">272</span></p>

<p>You see then what the <i>sufficiency of nature</i>
comes to: It leaves us, for any thing we know,
under the sentence of <i>death</i>; and, for any thing
we can do, very much short of <i>eternal life</i>. And
is this all we get by following <i>nature</i>, as our all-sufficient
guide, and rejecting the assistance
of <i>Revelation</i>? Are men satisfied to live, as
they do here, and then to die for ever; and all
this, rather than condescend to lay hold on the
mercy of God through Jesus? If they are,
their ambition is very moderate; but, surely,
this is not a moderation of that sort which is
prescribed by <i>reason</i>.</p>

<p>2. But they fly now (and it is their last resource)
to the <i>mysterious nature of the dispensation
itself</i>, which, they say, is perfectly
irreconcileable with the principles of natural
reason.</p>

<p>That Christianity is <i>mysterious</i>, that is, that
it acquaints us with many things which our faculties
could not have discovered, and which
they cannot fully comprehend or satisfactorily
explain, is an undoubted truth.&mdash;The pride of
reason, when, from human sciences, where it
saw much and thought it saw every thing, it
turns to these divine studies, is something mortified
to find a representation of things very
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_273">273</span>
different from what it should previously have
conceived, and impenetrable in many respects
by its utmost diligence and curiosity. But
then, when further exercised and improved,
the same reason presently checks this presumption,
as seeing very clearly, that there are inexplicable
difficulties every where, in the world
of <i>nature</i>, as well as in that of <i>grace</i>, and as
seeing too, that, if both systems be the product
of infinite wisdom, it could not be otherwise.
Next, a thinking man, as his knowledge
extends, and his mind opens, easily
apprehends, that, in such a scheme as that of
Christianity, which runs up into the arcana of
the divine councils in regard to man, there will
be many particulars of a new and extraordinary
nature; and that such a dispensation must
partake of the obscurity in which its divine
Author chuses to veil his own glory.</p>

<p>Thus, we see, how the objections to the
mysterious nature of the Gospel spring out of
pride and inconsideration, and are gradually
removed, as the mind advances in the further
knowledge of God and itself.</p>

<p>Now, suppose there had been no mysterious
parts in this Revelation, and that every thing
had lain clear and open to the comprehension
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_274">274</span>
of natural reason, what would the improved
understanding of a wise man have thought of
it? Would he not have said, that the whole
was of mere human contrivance? since, if it
were indeed of divine, it must needs have
spoken its original by some marks of divinity,
that is, by some signatures of incomprehensible
wisdom, impressed upon it. Consider, I
say, whether this judgment would not have
been made of such a Revelation; and whether
there be not more sense and reason in it, than
in that <i>other</i> conclusion which many have
drawn from the mysterious nature of the
Christian religion.</p>

<p><span class="smcap">It may appear</span>, from these cursory observations,
that <i>faith and knowledge</i> are no such
enemies to each other, as they have been sometimes
represented; and that neither the <i>evidences</i>
of Christianity, nor the <i>doctrines</i> of it, need decline
the scrutiny of the most improved reason.
Conclude, therefore, when ye hear a certain
language on this subject, that it is equally
foolish, as it is indecent; and that ye may
safely profess a <i>belief</i> in Jesus, without risking
the reputation of your <i>wisdom</i>.</p>

<p>Another conclusion is, that, when unbelievers
lay claim to a more than ordinary share
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_275">275</span>
of sense and penetration, we may allow their
claim, if we see fit, for other reasons, but <small>NOT</small>
for their disdainful rejection of our divine religion.
We must have better proofs of their
sufficiency than this, before we subscribe to it.
We may even be allowed to conclude, from
this circumstance of their unbelief, that they
either <i>see not</i> so clearly as they pretend, or
that the case is still worse with them, if they
do. They are ready to ask us, indeed, in the
prompt language of the Pharisees to our Lord,
<i>Are we blind also?</i> To which question, having
such an answer at hand, we need look out for
no other than that of Jesus, <i>If ye were blind,
ye should have no sin; but now ye say we see</i>,
<small>THEREFORE</small> <i>your sin remaineth</i>.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_276">276</span></p>

<h2 id="SERMON_XIX">SERMON XIX.<br />

<span class="medium">PREACHED MAY 12, 1771.</span></h2>

<h3><span class="smcap">1 Cor.</span> viii. 1.</h3>

<p><i>Knowledge puffeth up; but Charity edifieth.</i></p>

<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">There</span> is none of our little accomplishments,
or advantages, which we are not apt to
make the foundation of pride and vanity.
When, upon comparing ourselves with others,
in any respect, we <i>entertain</i> a higher opinion
of ourselves than we ought, this sentiment is
called <small>PRIDE</small>. And when we are forward to
<i>express</i> the good opinion, we have of ourselves,
to others, in our words or actions, (even though
such opinion be but proportioned to our desert)
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_277">277</span>
we give to this disposition the name of <small>VANITY</small>.
Each of these affections of the mind is, a real
vice: <i>Pride</i>, because it violates truth and reason;
and <i>Vanity</i>, because it violates Christian
charity.</p>

<p>But, of all the subjects of comparison which
betray us into these vices, none is thought to
produce them so easily, and to inflame them
to that degree, as <i>learning or knowledge</i>. And
we see the reason why it should be so. For
knowledge arises from the exertion of our best
and noblest faculties; those faculties which
distinguish us to most advantage, not only
from the inferior creatures, but from each
other. Hence we are naturally led to place a
higher value on this, than other acquisitions;
and to make our pride and boast of that which
is, indeed, the glory of our nature.</p>

<p>The observation then seems well founded;
and the Apostle advances no more than what
experience teaches, when he affirms in the
text&mdash;<small>THAT KNOWLEDGE PUFFETH UP</small>. Where,
however, we are to take notice, that the remedy
for this vice is not ignorance (which,
though for different reasons, is as apt to engender
pride and self-conceit, as knowledge
itself) but Christian love and charity. For,
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_278">278</span>
when the Apostle had brought this charge
against <i>knowledge</i>, <i>that it puffeth up</i>, he does
not say that <i>ignorance</i> keeps men humble, but
that <i>charity edifieth</i>. Whence it appears, that,
to correct this excess of self-love, which we
call pride, the Apostle would not have us renounce
the way of learning and knowledge,
but only increase our love and respect for mankind.</p>

<p>Charity, then, is the proper cure of <small>LEARNED
PRIDE</small>; and of those unfriendly vices, which
spring from it, <i>sufficiency</i>, <i>self-importance</i>,
and <i>ostentation</i>: And it will be worth our
while to consider, <i>in what</i> <small>RESPECTS</small>, and <i>by
what</i> <small>MEANS</small>, this divine principle of charity
contributes to that end. And this it does</p>

<p>1. By keeping men steady to that <small>OBJECT</small>,
which they ought to propose to themselves in
the cultivation of knowledge, I mean the <i>edification
of each other&mdash;charity edifieth</i>.</p>

<p>One of the ancient sects of philosophy carried
their admiration of <i>knowledge</i> so far, that
they made it <i>the supreme good</i> of man, and
built their whole <i>moral</i> system (if it might be
called such) on this extravagant idea. Whereas,
common sense, as well as religion, teaches,
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_279">279</span>
that knowledge, like our other faculties and attainments,
is only an instrument of doing good
to others; not to be regarded by us, as the end
of moral action, or a good simply in itself, but
as one of those means by which we may express
our moral character; and promote the common
interest of society, which (in subordination to
the will and glory of God) is the proper end of
man. Now, if we keep this end in view, which
Christian charity sets before us, we shall
neither cultivate knowledge for its own sake
(which is a strain of fanaticism, unsuited to our
present condition); nor for the sake of that
complacency, which may be apt to result from
it; nor solely, for any other selfish purpose to
which it may serve: but we shall chiefly and
ultimately refer it to the use and edification of
our brother; and shall therefore suppress that
inordinate elation of heart and display of vain-glory,
which tend so much to obstruct the
success of our applications to him in this
way.</p>

<p>2. Charity, estimating the value of knowledge
by the good it <i>actually</i> does to others,
finds the very foundation of pride and vanity,
in the application of it, in a great measure
taken away. For, how divine a thing soever
knowledge may appear to the mind, when
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_280">280</span>
heated by speculation, we shall find, in practice,
that it falls very much short of those glorious
ideas we had formed of it; that the <i>real
service</i>, we are enabled to do to mankind by
our most improved faculties, affords but little
occasion to the gratulations of self-esteem
(which, when resulting from such service, are,
no doubt, more pardonable than in any other
case whatsoever); and that, if such gratulations
arise in us from some slight and partial services
done to others, they are sufficiently checked
and mortified by the general ill success of our
most strenuous endeavours, and best concerted
designs. The philosopher and divine, after
many studious days and sleepless nights, are
ready to promise to themselves great effects
from their systems and apologies. Alas, the
world is little bettered or improved by them.
Its amusements, its follies, its vices, take their
usual course. Reason and knowledge are found
but feeble instruments of its conversion. It attends
so little, or so negligently to its instructors,
that it remains almost as uninformed, and
as corrupt as before.</p>

<p>Such is too commonly the issue of our best
pains in the cultivation of moral and religious
truth! Or, if in some rare cases it be otherwise,
and some sensible, some considerable,
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_281">281</span>
benefit result from them, still it will be far less
than the good man wishes and intends. For,
burning with this holy zeal of love to mankind,
the charitable instructor of the ignorant is in
the condition of <small>HIM</small>, whose ambitious zeal the
poet so well describes: His successes do but
inflame his desires; and <i>he reckons he has done
nothing, so long as there remains any thing for
him to do</i><a id="FNanchor_131" href="#Footnote_131" class="fnanchor">131</a>.</p>

<p>So certainly does charity, in this work of
learned instruction, disconcert and subdue all
the projects and emotions of pride!</p>

<p>3. Charity takes a sure way to counteract
those movements of vanity and self-applause,
which the pursuits of knowledge are apt to
excite, <i>by confining our attention to solid and
important subjects</i>. For, when the mind is
thus employed, it naturally refers its acquisitions
to <i>use</i>, not vanity; or, if vanity should
still find room to spring up with this crop of
useful knowledge, its growth would be much
checked by this benevolent and social attention:
It would either die away amidst these higher
regards of duty and public spirit, or would lose
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_282">282</span>
at least very much of its malignant nature, and
of those qualities which render it so offensive to
mankind. Whereas, when we employ ourselves
on frivolous or unimportant subjects, which
offer nothing to our view besides the ingenuity
of the speculation, and the distinction of the
pursuit, these ideas are so present to the mind,
and engross it so much, that vanity and self-esteem
almost necessarily spring from them,
luxuriant and unrestrained.</p>

<p>Besides, the mind, which loves to justify
itself in all its operations, finding but little real
use or worth in these disquisitions, strives to
make itself amends by placing an imaginary
value upon them; and grows so much the
more enamoured of them, as it foresees and
expects the neglect and indifference of other
men.</p>

<p>Hence, the sufficiency of such persons as
wholly employ their time and pains in the
more abstract studies, in the minuter parts of
learning, and universally in such inquiries as
terminate only or chiefly in curiosity and
amusement, is more than ordinarily glaring
and offensive. Their minds are <i>puffed up</i>
with immoderate conceptions of their own importance;
and this unnatural tumour they are
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_283">283</span>
neither able, nor willing, to conceal from others.
The secret is, they would persuade themselves
first, and then the world, that their studies
and occupations are less frivolous, than they
in earnest believe or suspect them, at least,
to be.</p>

<p>Now, Charity, indisposing us to these fruitless
speculations, and delighting to cultivate
such parts of knowledge as have a real dignity
in them, and are productive of light and use,
tends directly to keep us modest, by taking
away this so natural temptation to pride and
self-conceit.</p>

<p>4. Further, we may observe that, of the
more important studies themselves, such as we
call <i>practical</i>, are less liable to this perversion
of vanity, than the speculative, to what important
ends soever they may ultimately be referred.
And the reason of the difference is,
that, in the former case, the calls of charity
upon us are more instant. We cannot stir a
step in practical meditations without considering
what use and benefit may result from them:
while the speculative seem to terminate in
themselves; are pursued, for the time at least,
for their own sakes; and so, by keeping the
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_284">284</span>
ultimate end out of sight, do not divert the
mind enough from that complacent attention to
its own ingenious researches, whence the passion
of pride is apt to take its rise.</p>

<p>Not but there are some parts of knowledge,
which, though called practical, and referring
indeed to practice, have a different effect. But
these are such, as are in their own nature
boastful and ostentatious; calculated not so
much for use, as pleasure; or, at most, terminating
in some private and selfish end. The
proficients in these popular arts and studies are
tempted to regard, not the good <i>simply</i>, which
their knowledge might do to others, but the
general influence of it, and the consideration,
which, by means of such influence, whether to
a good or bad purpose, they may draw to themselves.</p>

<p>Of this sort was, too commonly, the study
of eloquence in the ancient, and sometimes, I
doubt, in the modern world. Vanity is apt to
mix itself with these practical studies, and to
result from them; the question generally being,
not how the greatest good may be effected by
them, but how the greatest impression may be
made.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_285">285</span></p>

<p>Divine and moral subjects, <i>practically</i> considered
(though vanity may creep in here), are
more secure from this abuse. For, respecting
the spiritual and moral good of men, distinctly
and exclusively, a regard to the end must correct
and purify the means. And thus we are
not surprised to find, that, while a vain rhetorician<a id="FNanchor_132" href="#Footnote_132" class="fnanchor">132</a>
is said to have boasted, in the hearing
of all Greece, that <i>he knew every thing</i>, the
sober moralist of Athens<a id="FNanchor_133" href="#Footnote_133" class="fnanchor">133</a> readily confessed, <i>he
knew nothing</i>.</p>

<p>5. Another way, in which <i>charity</i> operates
to the suppression of <i>pride</i>, is, <i>by increasing
our good opinion of other men</i>. <i>Pride</i> is an
elation of mind upon comparing ourselves with
others, and observing how much we excel
them in any respect; and, in the present
instance, how much we excel them in point
of <i>knowledge</i>. When the mind is wholly
occupied by <i>self-love</i>, it easily magnifies its
own attainments, and as easily diminishes
those of others: whence the advantage, on a
comparison, must needs be to <i>itself</i>. But
when <i>charity</i>, or the love of others, prevails
in us to any degree, we are willing to do them
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_286">286</span>
<i>justice</i> at least, and <i>but</i> justice to ourselves:
nay, our affection to others makes us willing
to see their good qualities in the fairest light,
to magnify to ourselves their excellencies, and
to lessen or overlook their defects; while on
the other hand, it inclines us readily to forego
any undue claims of pre-eminence, and even to
abate something of what we might strictly
claim to ourselves: whence the comparison
must be more favourable to <i>others</i>; and our
pride, if not entirely prevented, must be considerably
reduced. Increase this charity, and
the pride still lessens; till, at length, it is
almost literally true, as the Apostle divinely
expresses it, that, <i>in lowliness of mind, each
esteems other better than himself</i>; <i>better</i>, in
respect to <i>knowledge</i>, as to every thing else.</p>

<p>6. Lastly, charity, not only by its qualities,
but in the <i>very nature of things</i>, is destructive
of all <i>pride</i>. For what is pride, but an immoderate
<i>love</i> of ourselves? And what is charity,
but a fervent <i>love</i> of other men? It is the same
passion of love, only directed to different objects.
When it is concentred in a man’s self, it naturally
grows abundant and excessive: divert
some part of it upon others, and the selfish
love is proportionably restrained. Just as
seas and rivers would overflow their shores and
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_287">287</span>
banks, if they had no outlet or circulation: but
issuing forth in useful streams or vapours to
refresh the land, they are kept in due proportion,
and neither deluge the rest of the globe,
nor drain themselves. Thus the affection of
<i>love</i>, if too much confined, would overflow in
<i>pride and arrogance</i>; but, when part of it is
diffused on others, the rest is innoxious and
even salutary, as supplying the mind only with
a <i>just and moderate self-esteem</i>.</p>

<p>Hence we see that charity, by its very
operation, corrects the excesses of self-love;
and therefore of learned pride (which is <i>one</i> of
those excesses) as well as any other vice, which
the confined and inordinate exercise of that
passion is apt to produce.</p>

<p>In these several ways then, whether, by
prescribing the proper <i>end</i> of knowledge, <i>the
edification of our neighbour</i>, an attention to
which must needs lessen the temptation to
pride; or, by suggesting how <i>imperfectly</i> that
end is attained by knowledge, which must
mortify, rather than inflame our pride; or, by
confining the candidates of knowledge <i>to solid
and important subjects</i>, and, of <i>these</i>, rather
to <i>practical</i> subjects, than those of speculation,
both which pursuits are unfavourable to the
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_288">288</span>
growth of pride; or, by increasing <i>our good
opinion of others</i>, engaged in the same pursuits
of knowledge, which must so far take
from our fancied superiority over them; or,
lastly, <i>by the necessary effect of its operation</i>,
which is essentially destructive of that vicious
self-love, which is the parent of such fancies&mdash;In
<i>all</i> these respects, I say, it is clearly seen
how <small>CHARITY</small>, whose office it is to <i>edify</i> others,
is properly applied to the cure of that tumour
of the mind, which knowledge generates, and
which we know by the name of <small>LEARNED
PRIDE</small>.</p>

<p>There are many other considerations, no
doubt, which serve to mortify this pride; but
nothing tends so immediately to remove it, as
the increase of charity. It is therefore to be
wished, that men, engaged in the pursuits of
learning, would especially cultivate in themselves
this divine principle. Knowledge, when
tempered by humility, and directed to the ends
of charity, is indeed a valuable acquisition;
and, though no fit subject of vain-glory, is
justly entitled to the esteem of mankind. It
should further be remembered, that this virtue,
which so much adorns knowledge, is the peculiar
characteristic grace of our religion; without
which, all our attainments, of whatever
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_289">289</span>
kind, are fruitless and vain. Let the man of
Science, then, who has succeeded to his wish
in rearing some mighty fabric of human knowledge,
and from the top of it is tempted with
a vain complacency to <i>look down</i>, as the phrase
is, <i>on the ignorant vulgar</i>; let such an one
not forget to say with <small>HIM</small>, who had been
higher yet, even as high as <i>the third Heaven<a id="FNanchor_134" href="#Footnote_134" class="fnanchor">134</a></i>,
“<i>Though I understand all mysteries, and all
knowledge, and have not charity, I am nothing</i><a id="FNanchor_135" href="#Footnote_135" class="fnanchor">135</a>.”
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_290">290</span></p>

<h2 id="SERMON_XX">SERMON XX.<br />

<span class="medium">PREACHED NOVEMBER 19, 1769.</span></h2>

<h3><span class="smcap">Acts of the Apostles</span>, xxvi. 9.</h3>

<p><i>I verily thought with myself, that I ought to
do many things contrary to the name of
Jesus of Nazareth.</i></p>

<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">The</span> case of the Apostle, Paul, as represented
by himself in these words, is so remarkable,
that it cannot but deserve our attentive
consideration.</p>

<p>The account of <i>those many things</i>, which
he thought himself obliged <i>to do against the
name of Jesus</i>, during his unbelieving state,
he gives us in the chapter whence the text is
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_291">291</span>
taken. <i>These things</i>, continues he in his
apology to king Agrippa, <i>I did in Jerusalem,
and many of the Saints did I shut up in prison,
having received authority from the chief-priests;
and when they were put to death, I
gave my voice against them. And punished
them oft in every synagogue, and compelled
them to blaspheme; and being exceedingly
mad against them, I persecuted them, even to
strange cities.</i> And then he proceeds to speak
of his going, with the same authority, and the
same zeal, to persecute the Christians that
were at Damascus; when, in his journey thither,
he was suddenly stopt in the career of
his impiety by <i>a heavenly vision</i>, which had
the effect to overturn his former persuasion,
and to make a full convert of him to the
Christian faith.</p>

<p>1. From this account of himself, we learn,
that Paul, in his Jewish state, had been carried,
by his zeal, into all the horrors of persecution.
And <i>these things</i>, he says, <i>he verily
believed he ought to do, contrary to the name
of Jesus</i>.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_292">292</span></p>

<p>“But what, you will ask, did this <i>belief</i>
then justify those crimes? And, are blasphemy,
murder, and persecution, innocent things, from

the time that a man persuades himself he ought
to commit them? This would open a door to
all the evils of the most outrageous fanaticism,
and evacuate the whole moral law, under the
pretence of conscience.”</p>

<p>In general, it would do so: and we shall
presently find, that St. Paul does not pretend
to justify <i>himself</i>, notwithstanding <i>he verily
believed he ought to do these things</i>. But to
see the degree of his crime, it will be convenient,
and but just to the criminal, to call to
mind, in the first place, the peculiar circumstances
under which it was committed.</p>

<p>Paul was at that time a Jew; and, as a follower
of this law, his conduct, supposing his
conscience to have been rightly informed, had
not been blameable; on the contrary, had been
highly meritorious. For the law of Moses
made the restraint of opinions, in matter of
religion, lawful: Heterodoxy was to a Jew but
another word for disloyalty; and a zeal to see
the rigour of the law executed on that crime,
was the honour of a Jewish subject. Paul,
then, conceiving of Jesus as a false prophet,
and the author of a new worship, contrary to
that of the God of Israel, Paul, I say, regarding
Jesus in this light, but conformed to the spirit
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_293">293</span>
of the law, when he joined in persecuting the
Jewish Christians, and must esteem himself to
have deserved well of it.</p>

<p>And this he, in fact, did. For, reckoning
up the several merits, which, as a Jew, he
might claim to himself, he mentions this zeal
of persecution, as one, which did him honour,
under that character&mdash;<i>Concerning zeal</i>, says
he, <small>PERSECUTING THE CHURCH</small><a id="FNanchor_136" href="#Footnote_136" class="fnanchor">136</a>.</p>

<p>The crime of Paul, then, as of the other
Jews, in persecuting Christ and his religion,
was not <i>simply</i> the crime of persecution (for,
had that religion been a false one, by the peculiar
structure of the Jewish œconomy, there
would have been no crime at all in punishing
such of the Jews, as professed themselves of it);
but his guilt was, and, in general, the guilt of
the other Jews was, in misapplying the law to
this particular case; in persecuting a just and
divine person, whom their own prophets had
foretold and pointed out, who came in no opposition
to the Jewish law, nay, who came
<i>not to destroy</i>, but <i>to fulfill</i><a id="FNanchor_137" href="#Footnote_137" class="fnanchor">137</a>.</p>

<p>The conclusion is, that, though <i>persecution</i>
be on no pretence of conscience excusable in
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_294">294</span>
another man, yet in a Jew, and as directed
against an apostate Jew, it had not this malignity,
and was not the proper subject of his
abhorrence<a id="FNanchor_138" href="#Footnote_138" class="fnanchor">138</a>.</p>

<p>To the question then, “Whether Paul’s belief
justified his practice, in the case before us,
that is, whether he did right <i>in doing that
which he verily believed he ought to do</i>,”  You
may take his own answer&mdash;<i>This</i>, says he, <i>is
a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation,
that Christ Jesus came into the world
to save sinners</i>, <small>OF WHOM I AM CHIEF</small><a id="FNanchor_139" href="#Footnote_139" class="fnanchor">139</a>. He
owns himself, we see, to have been <i>the chief
of sinners</i>, that is, making all allowance for
the hyperbole and modesty of the expression,
a very great sinner. And if you ask in what
respect, he tells you that, too: for, in the immediately
preceding verses, he declares the
ground of this charge upon himself, <i>That he
had been a blasphemer, and a persecutor, and
injurious</i>. And in another place he says of
himself, <i>I am the least of the Apostles; that
am not meet to be called an Apostle, because I
persecuted the church of God</i><a id="FNanchor_140" href="#Footnote_140" class="fnanchor">140</a>.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_295">295</span></p>

<p>You see, then, that, notwithstanding his
former religion authorized him to persecute its
enemies, notwithstanding he verily believed,
that he ought to persecute Jesus as such, yet he
now condemns himself, as having grievously
sinned in giving way to that authority, and to
that persuasion. How is this conduct to be
accounted for and made consistent? plainly,
by observing, that he had persecuted without
warrant, even from his former religion; that
he had culpably and rashly overlooked (what
he might and ought to have seen) that Jesus
was no fit object of this severity even to a Jew,
that he was no enemy or subverter of the Jewish
law, that he was no rebel to the God and king
of Israel, but came indeed from him, acted by
his commission, and displayed all the signs
and credentials of the Messiah, in whom the
law and the prophets were finally to be completed.</p>

<p>Without doubt, his being now of a religion,
which forbad persecution, under all its forms,
sharpened his sense of this crime, and may
perhaps account for his calling himself the <i>chief</i>
of sinners; yet, that the persecution of Christians
was to him a crime, and that he had sinned
in committing it, he could not but know,
and is clearly to be inferred from his expression.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_296">296</span>
All the use he makes of his Jewish persuasion,
is, but to palliate something what he knew was
without excuse:&mdash;<i>I obtained mercy</i>, says he,
<i>because I did it ignorantly in unbelief</i>: that
is, because I persecuted in my <i>unbelieving</i>
state of a Jew, and was kept, by the genius of
the Mosaic law, from <i>knowing</i> and considering
the general malignity of persecution. And that
there may be some ground of mercy in this
consideration, who can doubt, when we find
the Son of God interceding for his very murderers
on the same principle&mdash;<i>Father</i>, says
he, <i>forgive them, for they know not what
they do</i>.</p>

<p>There was this difference, you see, between
a Jewish and a Gentile persecutor. The <i>Jew</i>
was answerable for his not seeing that Jesus
was the Messiah: The <i>Gentile</i> was to answer
for that ignorance, and for his not seeing the
general iniquity of persecution, on account of
religion.</p>

<p>Paul, however, was certainly to blame; nay,
he takes much blame on himself, for acting
<i>ignorantly</i> against the name of Jesus, though
his ignorance was of the former kind only.</p>

<p>2. But now another question, and a very
important one, arises out of this state of the
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_297">297</span>
case. Paul <i>verily thought</i> that the religion of
Jesus was an imposture. Yet he was <i>mistaken</i>
in thinking so; and, what is more, his mistake
was highly <i>criminal</i>.</p>

<p>What then shall we say to those persons,
who affirm, that, provided a man be <i>persuaded</i>
of the truth of his opinions, he is not answerable
for his mistakes? or, in other words, what
becomes of that notion which many have taken
up, concerning <i>the innocency of error in matters
of religion</i>?</p>

<p>I understand what is generally alledged in
support of this candid and conciliating opinion.
But the text says expressly, that Paul <i>verily
believed he ought to do many things contrary to
the name of Jesus</i>; and with all this firmness
of belief Paul was <i>the chief of sinners</i>.</p>

<p>Men therefore conclude too hastily, when
from the sole <i>persuasion</i> of their sincerity they
infer the innocence of their errors.</p>

<p>“But what then would you require of poor
unhappy man, whose <i>reason</i> is naturally so
weak, and whose <i>prejudices</i> are often so strong?”
Why, to use the force he has; to consider well
whether he be indeed sincere (for to be firmly,
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_298">298</span>
and to be <i>sincerely</i> persuaded, is not always the
same thing); to employ his reason, such as it
is, with care, and to controul his prejudices,
what he can, by an impartial examination.</p>

<p>All this, it will be answered, is already done.
It may be so. Let me then have leave to interrogate
the sincere rejecter of Christianity,
and try his good faith, of which he is so well
assured, by the following questions.</p>

<p>“Has he cultivated his mind, and furnished
himself with the requisite helps for religious
inquiry? Has he studied the sacred volumes
with care? Has he considered their scope and
end? their genius and character? Has he fixed
the boundaries of reason and of faith? Does he
know where the province of the former ends,
and where that of the second commences?
Has he studied himself, his faculties and
powers, his wants and necessities? Has he
weighed the importance of the search, he is
making into the will and word of God? Has
he made that search with a suitable diligence
and sobriety? Has he accustomed himself to
the investigation of moral evidence? Has he
collected, compared, and estimated, what is
brought in evidence for the truth of the Christian
religion? Has he, in short, (for I address
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_299">299</span>
myself to capable inquirers only) omitted none
of those means which reason requires, and employed
all that industry, and thought, and application,
which the sincere love of truth demands
on so momentous an occasion?</p>

<p>“Still, I have other inquiries to make. Has
he approached the sanctuary of religion with
awe? Has he purged his mind from all gross,
nay from all refined vices? Had he no interest
to serve, no prejudice to sooth, no predominant
passion to gratify, by a hasty conclusion
concerning the truth of Christianity?
Or, (not to suspect a philosophic mind of these
vulgar illusions) had he no vanity to flatter, no
capricious levity to indulge, by a short and
disdainful rejection of it? Had he no spleen
to divert, no regard of fashion, no partialities
of acquaintance or education to mislead him,
from conviction? Had he no secret wish or
hope, which he scarcely durst tell to himself,
that his inquiry would end in doubt at least, if
not in infidelity? In a word, can he assure
himself, that in these several respects, he had
no bias on his mind, or did his best at least to
have none, against a conclusion, to which an
impartial love of truth might invite and compell
him?”
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_300">300</span></p>

<p>Had St. Paul himself been questioned in this
manner, concerning his sincere belief, that he
<i>ought to do many things contrary to the name
of Jesus</i>, he would hardly, I suppose, have
said, that he had fulfilled all these conditions;&mdash;But
we know what he did say, to himself
and to the world: He said, He was <small>THE CHIEF
OF SINNERS</small>.</p>

<p>So remote is persuasion from sincerity! and
so little acquainted, many times, are <i>innocence
and error</i>!</p>

<p>But ‘these questions, it will be said, may
be retorted on the believer; who may be neither
more diligent, nor more impartial in his inquiries,
than the unbeliever.’</p>

<p>Allow that they may; yet observe the immense
difference of the two cases, in regard
both to the <i>danger</i> incurred, and to the <i>crime</i>
committed.</p>

<p>If I <i>believe</i>, on insufficient grounds, what do
I lose? only what I can well spare; my unbelief
and my vices. And what do I gain?
that, which of all things is most precious to
me; peace of mind, and the hopes of heaven.
On the other hand, if I <i>disbelieve</i>, I lose all
that is valuable in both worlds, and gain nothing
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_301">301</span>
but the sad privilege of being set free from the
restraints of this religion<a id="FNanchor_141" href="#Footnote_141" class="fnanchor">141</a>.</p>

<p>Consider, too, the difference of the <i>crime</i>, in
the two cases. If the Christian errs in admitting
the truth of his religion, he has only to
answer for his ill judgment, at most: he could
be drawn to this persuasion by no criminal motives:
for, which of these could bias him to
the belief of the holiest of all religions? If the
error lies on the other side, in rejecting this
religion, how shall he know, that, besides the
blame of judging ill, some immoral purposes
and dispositions may not have secretly
concurred to pervert his judgment? The
Christian may be unreasonable: but the unbeliever,
I do not say, certainly, but, is too
probably <i>vicious</i>.</p>

<p>Thus the danger, in all views, is on the unbelieving
side. And if there be difficulty in
knowing when I am sincere, there is none in
knowing which of the two mistakes is safer and
less criminal.</p>

<p>It will be said, perhaps, that an inquirer
may be biassed in favour of Christianity by corrupt
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_302">302</span>
motives, that is, by views of <i>credit</i> or <i>interest</i>,
attending the profession of it, in countries
where this religion is legally established.
Without doubt. But such persons can hardly
put themselves in the case of St. Paul, and say,
They are <i>verily persuaded</i>, they ought to be
Christians. For such gross motives can be no
secret to their own hearts, and they cannot but
know that Christianity condemns all such motives.
I regard then such persons in the light
of <i>hypocrites</i> confessed, and by no means in
that of <i>believers</i>. On the other hand, men may
<i>affect</i> to disbelieve from the like views of <i>credit</i>
or <i>interest</i>, in certain circumstances; and so become
hypocrites of another kind; of which the
number is, perhaps, not inconsiderable. But
I am here speaking of such corrupt partialities
as may consist with a firm belief, or disbelief
of Christianity. And here it is plain, the criminality
is likely to be much greater in him who
without ground rejects, than in him who too
hastily admits such a religion.</p>

<p>To conclude, then, with the case of St. Paul,
which has given occasion to these reflexions.</p>

<p>No firmness of persuasion, it is plain, can
justify a man in being led by it into the commission
of gross and acknowledged crimes.
And the reason is, that no persuasion of the
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_303">303</span>
truth of any principle can be greater than that
which every man has that he ought not to commit
such actions. If St. Paul’s persuasion saved
him from this guilt, it was owing to the peculiar
genius of the Jewish religion.</p>

<p>But, further, St. Paul was blameable for
taking up that <i>persuasion</i>, on which he acted.
His mind had been corrupted by hasty prejudices,
and ungoverned passion. He concluded
too fast, then, when he thought his persuasion
<i>sincere</i>, though it was indeed strong and violent.
His persuasion did not exclude error,
and that error implied insincerity, and so was
not <i>innocent</i>.</p>

<p>It follows from the whole, that we ought
never to <i>act</i> wrong on the pretence of conscience;
and that we should learn to suspect
the possibility of guilt’s mixing itself even with
what we call our speculative opinions. Error
may be innocent; but not so long as truth lies
before us, and we may, if we do our duty, discover
it. Let our inquiries, then, in all matters
of moment, above all in those of religion, be
diligent, and strictly honest. Where these
precautions are not observed, our mistakes are
always blameable, because in some degree they
are wilful and insincere.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_304">304</span></p>

<h2 id="SERMON_XXI">SERMON XXI.<br />

<span class="medium">PREACHED MAY 10, 1767.</span></h2>

<h3>St. <span class="smcap">Luke</span>, vi. 26.</h3>

<p><i>Woe unto you, when all men speak well of you.</i></p>

<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">Among</span> other <i>woes</i> denounced in this
chapter by our Saviour against different sorts
of men, we have one in the text against <i>those,
of whom all men speak well</i>.</p>

<p>The reason of this severe sentence may not
appear at first sight: first, because it may not
immediately occur to us, what hurt or inconvenience
there can be in every man’s good word;
and, secondly, because every man’s good word
is not likely to be had.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_305">305</span></p>

<p>As to this last particular, it is true, the praise
of <i>all men</i>, in the full extent of the words, is
not to be obtained. But the sense of the text
requires, only, that we understand a very
general praise; and this we see many men
obtain: And if we only want to know, in what
respects, the possession of this praise can be
deemed a misfortune, we shall find them, I
suppose, (without looking further) in the following
considerations.</p>

<p>The <small>WOE</small>, of being <i>well spoken of by all
men</i>, may be apprehended, if we reflect, That
(taking the world as it is) its good word, so
largely bestowed on any man, implies <i>a mediocrity
of virtue, at the best</i>;&mdash;that it frequently
implies, <i>a considerable degree of
positive ill-desert</i>;&mdash;that it sometimes implies,
<i>a thorough depravity and prostitution of the
moral character</i>.</p>

<p>From these <small>THREE</small> considerations, I propose
to illustrate the <i>woe</i> of the text.&mdash;In moral
discourses, it is scarce possible to avoid very
general assertions. These may sometimes want
to be restrained: but ye will do it for yourselves,
as ye see cause; for the appeal lies,
all along, to your own bosoms and experience.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_306">306</span></p>

<p>I. I say then, <i>first</i>; that to be <i>well spoken
of by all men</i>, implies <small>A MEDIOCRITY OF VIRTUE
AT THE BEST</small>.</p>

<p>And the assertion is founded on many reasons.
An eminent degree of virtue excites
envy; is not generally understood; is unapt to
accommodate itself to men’s views and expectations;
and, lastly, is liable to some excesses,
and connected with some infirmities, which
are either peculiar to itself, or would less disgrace
a virtue of the common stamp.</p>

<p>Let us weigh these several reasons.</p>

<p>1. The chapter of <i>envy</i> is a common one,
and has been exhausted by every moralist.
When a man’s worth lifts him above the generality
of his species, he is thought to depress
those who feel themselves beneath him. Their
pride is hurt, their self-love is mortified, by the
acknowledged preference. And in this state of
things, no wonder that much industry is employed
to obscure a virtue, whose unclouded
splendour would give pain.</p>

<p>2. But men sometimes detract from a superior
character, with perfect good faith. It
is not envy, but <i>inapprehension</i>, which sets
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_307">307</span>
them on work. For it is with some virtues, as
with those sublimer graces in a work of art of
genius: few, but such as could have set the
example, have any idea or conception of them.</p>

<p>Thus, a disinterested goodness, when carried
to a certain length; a generosity of mind,
when stretched beyond certain bounds; a sense
of honour, operating to a certain degree; in a
word, temperance, justice, piety, humanity,
any or all of these virtues, exalted to a certain
pitch, are either not comprehended, or are
perhaps traduced, as marks of folly and extravagance,
by those who are not capable of
ascending to these heights themselves. Of
which, the instances are so frequent in all
history, and even in common life, that no man
wants to be reminded of them.</p>

<p>3. Still, if superior virtue were only envied,
or ill-understood, the misfortune would not be
so great. It is, besides, <i>active, enterprising,
constant, and inflexible</i>. It contents not itself
with being merely passive, innoxious, blameless:
it would oblige, befriend, and merit of
mankind. It would be distinguished by actual
services, or at least by glorious attempts. And
in prosecuting these, it consults no man’s
occasions; bends to no man’s prejudices;
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_308">308</span>
leans to no partial interests or considerations;
is simple, uniform, invariable, and holds on
its course, steadily and directly, towards its
main end and scope. There is a magnanimity
in true worth and goodness, which scorns and
rejects all disguises, and would appear and be
itself.</p>

<p>A character of this stamp is too awful to be
popular. There is something of terror in so
sublime a virtue; and those who are distinguished
by it, may be esteemed, perhaps, and
revered, but are rarely applauded by the world.
What difference between the divine integrity
of Cato, and the specious temporizing virtues
of C&aelig;sar! Yet, if history had been silent, we
should easily have known which of these men
was destined to be the idol of the Roman
people.</p>

<p>4. Nor is even this the worst. Virtue, in
this exalted state, is not easily restrained from
running, at times, into certain <small>EXCESSES</small>:
<i>excesses</i>, which spring, as it were, from its
very essence, and which the truly wise allow
for, excuse, and almost admire; but which
hurt the reputation more, with base and ordinary
minds, than the virtue itself, under a
due exertion, serves and promotes it.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_309">309</span></p>

<p>When the virtuous Brutus, in the crisis of
the Roman state, struggling for its last breath
of liberty, chose rather to put everything to
hazard, than <i>violate the strict forms of law
and justice</i><a id="FNanchor_142" href="#Footnote_142" class="fnanchor">142</a>:&mdash;And again, when our virtuous
Falkland was kept, by his nice sense of honour,
from <i>taking some liberties</i><a id="FNanchor_143" href="#Footnote_143" class="fnanchor">143</a>, which the duty
of his place, the public service, and the practice
of all times, might seem to authorize;
when these great men, I say, erred from an
excess of virtue, a thousand tongues were
ready to blaspheme, and even ridicule their
mistakes, while one or two only revered the
honesty of mind, which gave birth to them.</p>

<p>These glorious excesses, which are frequent
in a virtuous character, hardly deserve the
name of infirmities: yet <i>infirmities</i>, in the
common sense of the word, are the lot of human
nature, in whatever state of perfection. That
heat of mind, which nourishes heroic virtue, is
apt to produce these; and, as the noblest
genius sometimes lets fall inaccuracies, which
moderate talents would correct; so the best
man sometimes commits extravagancies, which
a moderate virtue would avoid: and when this
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_310">310</span>
mischance happens, the infirmity is sure to be
observed, and never pardoned. Or, let the
weakness be such, as is incident to our common
nature; still its effects are very different;
it shall eclipse half the virtues of an excellent
man, and, in a common character, be either
not seen, or not regarded.</p>

<p>So true it is, that, to be <i>well spoken of by
all men</i>, implies but an ordinary share of virtue,
at best! For, consider these several circumstances,
and see what a shade they cast on the
reputation of extraordinary men. To shine out
in the full lustre of a general flame, is reserved
for those, <i>whose virtue is not of a size to give
umbrage; whose merits are to the level of all
eyes; who adapt themselves with dexterity to
all occasions; and who are kept, by their very
mediocrity, from any infirmity, or excess</i>.</p>

<p>And it would be well, if the <i>woe</i> ended here;
if the misfortune of these applauded men were
negative only, and amounted to no more than
the absence of vice, or the possession of virtue
in the common degrees. But, I doubt, it
amounts to much more: it frequently implies</p>

<p>II. <small>A CONSIDERABLE DEGREE OF POSITIVE
ILL-DESERT.</small>
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_311">311</span></p>

<p>When the Jews, in a fit of ignorant zeal,
were taking up stones to cast at our blessed
Lord, he said to them: <i>Many</i> <small>GOOD WORKS</small>
<i>have I shewed you from my Father; for which
of</i> <small>THESE</small> <i>works do ye stone me</i><a id="FNanchor_144" href="#Footnote_144" class="fnanchor">144</a>? Intimating,
that the resentment of a misjudging multitude
is generally occasioned by praise-worthy actions.
On the same principle, when shouts of popular
applause are sounding in a man’s ears, he may
reasonably ask, <i>For which of my</i> <small>EVIL DEEDS</small>
<i>is this praise wasted upon me</i>? For it is just
as much to be expected that a clamorous praise
should attend a bad action, as that a clamorous
rage should be excited by a good one.</p>

<p>And if we look abroad into the world, we
shall find, that it is not virtue, in whatever
degree, but some popular vice, that too oft engages
its warmest approbation. In fact, even a
moderate share of virtue, joined to an inoffensive
character, shall more frequently secure a
man from the censure, than procure him the
applause of mankind. To be generally <i>well
spoken of</i>, he must do more than not offend:
he must merit his reward, before it is conferred
upon him. And, though illustrious services
may sometimes extort this reward, yet the
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_312">312</span>
surer and easier way to obtain it, is to please. And
when I am to please <i>all men</i>, in order to obtain
the suffrage of all, tell me what way there is
of executing this project, without dishonouring
myself. Men are not pleased, unless I humour
their foibles, sooth their vices, serve their ill
ends, or unjustifiable passions; and <i>woe</i> unto
me, if I acquire their good opinion by these
means.</p>

<p>But suppose I am restrained by some sense
of decency and of duty, and not disposed to
run all lengths in my endeavours to please.
Still it is not nothing, to be silent where
virtue bids me speak; it is something, to give
a man leave to think he is honoured by me
for that which deserves blame; it is base, to
flatter and extoll immoderately even his good
qualities; and it is flagitious to countenance
and inflame his bad ones.</p>

<p>Yet one or other of these ways must he take,
who is ambitious of every man’s good word.
And is there no <i>woe</i>, think ye, in such a conduct
as this? Suppose I but sacrifice one virtue
to my reputation, but one generous quality to
my passion for fame; still am I innocent in
making this sacrifice? Can I applaud myself
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_313">313</span>
for making thus free with my moral character?
Or, rather, have I not cause to humble myself
under a sense of my ill-desert?</p>

<p>Yes, <i>woe</i> to that man, who, to be well with
the world, or with any part of it, deserts any
one virtuous principle, transgresses any one
known duty, corrupts his conscience with any
one deliberate vice. Let the world’s applause
be what it will; he is a loser who gains it on
such terms.</p>

<p>But I am still putting matters at the best;
For,</p>

<p>III. Lastly, this general acceptation, this
mighty privilege of being <i>well spoken of by all
men</i>, sometimes, and not unfrequently, demands
a sacrifice, not of one, but all the
virtues: it implies <small>A THOROUGH DEPRAVITY AND
PROSTITUTION OF THE MORAL CHARACTER</small>.</p>

<p>Our delicacy will not bear to have this
matter pushed home, and brought directly to
ourselves. Our self-love revolts against the
imputation; and no man applies so severe a
censure to his own case, or that of his acquaintance.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_314">314</span></p>

<p>Let us look abroad, then, for what we are
willing to shift off so far from us. Let us
look for this opprobrious character in ancient
times, and distant regions, with which we
may take greater liberties, and concerning
which we may discourse without offence. And
when we have found it, let us only remember
that the character is no ideal one; that it is
fairly taken from the annals of human nature,
and may therefore, in part at least, concern
ourselves.</p>

<p>A noble Roman is described by <small>ONE</small> who
knew him well, in the following manner<a id="FNanchor_145" href="#Footnote_145" class="fnanchor">145</a>:
“He possessed, in a wonderful degree, the
faculty of engaging all men to himself, by
every art of address, and the most obsequious
application to their humours, purposes, and
designs. His fortune, his interest, nay his
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_315">315</span>
person, was wholly their’s; and he was ready
to shew his attachment to them by every
service, and, if occasion required it, by
every crime. He had the most perfect dexterity
in moulding his own nature, and
shaping it into all forms. The men of
austere morals he could gain to himself, by
a well-dissembled severity; the more free
and libertine sort, by an unrestrained gaiety.
He could equally adapt himself to the vivacity
of youth, and to the gravity of old
age: with men of bold spirits and factious
designs, he was prompt, enterprizing, audacious;
with the men of pleasure, he could
be licentious, luxurious, dissolute.”</p>

<p>What think ye, now, of this character?
With so various and pliable a disposition, could
he fail of being popular? And with so total a
want of principle, can we doubt of his being
abandoned?  He was, in truth, both the one
and the other. He was the favourite<a id="FNanchor_146" href="#Footnote_146" class="fnanchor">146</a>, and
the pest of his country: in a word, this man
was, <span class="smcap">Catiline</span>.</p>

<p>But let us turn our thoughts from such a
prodigy, and conclude only from the instance
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_316">316</span>
here given, that a character may be much applauded
and very worthless; and that, to be
<i>well spoken of by all</i>, in a certain extent of
those words, one must be, if not a Catiline,
yet an unquestionably vicious and corrupt man.</p>

<p>I have now gone through the several topics,
I proposed to illustrate in this discourse.</p>

<p>My more <i>immediate</i> design was, to explain
and justify the text; to shew that it spake not
without reason when it spake, perhaps, somewhat
differently from our expectations; and
that our divine master had abundant cause to
pronounce a <i>woe</i> on those, of whom the world
is so ready to speak well.</p>

<p>But in doing this, I persuade myself, I have
done more; and, in shewing the reasons of
this <i>woe</i>, have said enough to repress and
mortify that lust of general praise, which is so
fatal to our virtue, as well as happiness. For
what can be more likely to restrain men from
this folly, than to let them see, that the prize,
they so ambitiously contend for, would be a
misfortune to them, if it could be obtained;
since a very general praise is rarely conferred,
at best, but upon a feeble imperfect state of
virtue; is, frequently, the reward of positive
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_317">317</span>
ill-desert; and is, sometimes, the pay, that
men receive for the greatest <i>crimes</i>.</p>

<p>These considerations shew the only true
praise to be that which a well informed mind
gives to itself. This praise is pure and unmixed;
is only bestowed on real merit; and is
nicely proportioned to the several degrees of it.
It is the earnest too of every other praise,
which ought to be precious to us. For, when
conscience approves, good men and angels are
ready to applaud: nay, when <i>a man’s heart
condemns him not, then has he confidence towards
God</i><a id="FNanchor_147" href="#Footnote_147" class="fnanchor">147</a>.</p>

<p>To conclude: it is in this contention of human
life, as in those games of which the ancient
world was so fond: the success consists not in
the acclamations of the attending multitude, but
in the crown which the victor receives at the
hands of the appointed judge. If he obtains
that great prize, it is of little moment whether
the rest follow or not. The applause of the
by-standers may add to the noise and pageantry
of the day; but the triumph is sincere and
complete without it.</p>

<p>As then it would be arrogance and inhumanity
to reject universally the good  opinion
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_318">318</span>
of the world, so it would be folly, or something
worse, to dote upon it. If it may be
honestly obtained, it is well: if not, let the
friend of virtue; above all, let the follower of
Jesus, console himself, under the loss of it,
with this reflection, “That it is no certain
argument of true honour and true happiness,
nay, that it is a presumption to the contrary,
to be found in the class of those, <i>of whom
all men speak well</i>.”
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_319">319</span></p>

<h2 id="SERMON_XXII">SERMON XXII.<br />

<span class="medium">PREACHED FEBRUARY 6, 1774.</span></h2>

<h3>St. <span class="smcap">John</span> viii. 9.</h3>

<p><i>Jesus said to her, Neither do I condemn thee;
Go, and sin no more.</i></p>

<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">Every</span> one understands the occasion of
these words: <i>The absolution of the woman
taken in adultery</i>, says an ancient writer, <i>has
been always famous in the church</i><a id="FNanchor_148" href="#Footnote_148" class="fnanchor">148</a>: Indeed
<i>so</i> famous, that some, who know but little of
the other parts of the Gospel history, pretend
to be well acquainted with this; from which
they draw conclusions so favourable to their
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_320">320</span>
own loose practices, that others of stricter
morals have been disposed to question its authenticity,
and to expunge this obnoxious passage
from the sacred books.</p>

<p>The attempt, indeed, has not succeeded.
The obnoxious passage is unquestionably authentic.
But what then shall we say to the
narrative itself? How are we to expound it
consistently with the known character of Jesus?
and how are we to obviate the ill consequences
which seem so naturally to flow from it?</p>

<p>These questions will be answered by considering
attentively the nature and circumstances
of the case: from which it will appear,
that this decision of our Lord is founded on the
highest wisdom; and, when seen in its true
light, affords no countenance to the licentious
glosses of one party, and needs give no alarm
to the scrupulous fears and apprehensions of
another.</p>

<p>The fact is related by the sacred historian in
these words: “The Scribes and Pharisees
brought to him a woman taken in adultery;
and when they had set her in the midst, they
say to him, Master, this woman was taken
in adultery in the very act.  Now, Moses in
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_321">321</span>
the law commanded, that such should be
stoned; but what sayest thou?”</p>

<p>Thus far we see there was no difficulty. A
crime had been committed, and might be
proved; and their law had appointed the
punishment. Why then do the Scribes and
Pharisees apply to Jesus, for his judgment
in the case? The text tells us; for it follows
immediately&mdash;“This they said, tempting him,
that they might have to accuse him.” They
came to him then, not for any information
about the nature of the crime, or of the punishment
due to it; the crime had been distinctly
specified in their law (the authority of which
Jesus admitted, as well as they) and the sort
of punishment had been distinctly specified,
too: But they came with the insidious design
of <i>tempting him</i>; that is, of drawing some
answer from him, which might give them an
occasion to accuse him, either to the people, or
to the rulers of the Jewish state.</p>

<p>In what then did their temptation consist?
Or, what crime was it, of which, by thus
tempting him, they supposed they <i>might have
to accuse him</i> to the Jews? The answer to this
question will lead us into a proper view of our
Lord’s conduct on this occasion, and will
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_322">322</span>
enable us to form a right judgment of the
manner in which he disappointed the malice of
his insidious tempters.</p>

<p>We find in the preceding chapter of St.
John’s Gospel, that <i>the Jews sought to kill him</i>,
ver. 1.; and that, being alarmed at the progress
of his doctrine among the people, <i>the Pharisees
and chief priests had even sent their
officers to take him by force</i>, ver. 32. But
this project failing in the execution, by the
growing favour of the people towards him, and
by the strange impression which the doctrine
of Jesus had made on those officers themselves,
they found it expedient to try other and more
indirect methods.</p>

<p>For this purpose, having taken a woman in
adultery, they supposed they had now obtained
a certain method of accomplishing their designs
against him. They therefore bring her to him,
and say, <i>Master, this woman was taken in
adultery, in the very act. Now, Moses in the
law commanded us, that such should be stoned:
but what sayest thou?</i></p>

<p>They concluded, that his answer to this
question must be such as would give them a
sure hold of him. For either it would be, that
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_323">323</span>
the law of Moses was too severe; and then,
they doubted not but he would fall a sacrifice
to the zeal of the people themselves,
from whose favour to him they had now the
most dreadful apprehensions: or, if he justified
this law of Moses, and encouraged the execution
of it (and this conduct they had most
reason to expect, from the known strictness of
his life and doctrine, and from his professed
reverence for the law), in that case, they would
<i>have to accuse him</i> to the Jewish rulers, as
taking to himself a civil and judicial character;
or, rather to their Roman masters, as presuming
to condemn to death an offender by his
own proper authority; whereas <i>it was not
lawful</i> for the Sanhedrim itself, but by express
leave of the Roman governour, <i>to put any man
to death</i><a id="FNanchor_149" href="#Footnote_149" class="fnanchor">149</a>.</p>

<p>In short, either the people themselves would
kill him on the spot, as a disparager and blasphemer
of the law; or, he would be convicted
of that capital crime, which their rulers wanted
to fasten upon him, of making himself <i>a king</i>,
and so incur the punishment of rebellion to
the state.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_324">324</span></p>

<p>Such being the profound artifice, as well as
malice, of this <i>plot</i>, the situation of our Lord
was very critical; and nothing but that divine
wisdom, by which he spake, and which attended
him in all conjunctures, could deliver
him from it.</p>

<p>Let us see, then, what that wisdom suggested
to him in his present perilous condition.</p>

<p>Instead of replying directly to their ensnaring
question, “He stooped down, and with his
finger wrote on the ground, as though he
heared them not.”  His enemies, no doubt,
considered this affected inattention as a poor
subterfuge; or, rather, as an evident proof of
his confusion, and inability to avoid the snare
they had laid for him; and were ready to exult
over him, as their certain prey, now fallen into
their hands. They therefore repeat and  press
upon him their insulting question, urging him
with much clamour to give them an immediate
reply. “So when they continued asking him,
as the historian proceeds, he lift up himself,
and said to them, He that is without sin
among you, let him first cast a stone at her.
And, again he stooped down and wrote on
the ground.”
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_325">325</span></p>

<p>The divinity of this answer can never be
enough admired. He eluded by it, at once,
the two opposite snares they had laid for him:
he disconcerted all their hopes and triumphant
expectations; and carried, at the same time,
by the weight of this remonstrance, and the
power which he gave to it, trouble, confusion
and dismay into their affrighted consciences.
Without speaking a word against the law, or
taking to himself an authority which he had
never claimed, and which did not belong to
him, he turned their <i>temptation</i> on themselves;
and instead of falling a victim to it,
astonished them with the moral use he had
made of it, and sent them away overwhelmed
with shame, conviction, and self-contempt.
For it follows, “They which heared [this reply]
being convicted by their own conscience,
went out one by one, beginning at the eldest,
even to the last; and Jesus was left alone, and
the woman standing in the midst.”</p>

<p>This was no time, we see, for declaring his
sense of the law of Moses, or giving his assent
to the execution of it; which, upon the least
signification of his mind, had certainly followed
from the people (such was their united zeal
for the law, and reverence for his opinion). His
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_326">326</span>
present purpose and duty was to preserve himself
from a captious and malicious question;
but in such a manner as might consist with
truth and innocence, and even with a tender
concern for the moral state and condition of
those questioners themselves.</p>

<p>No man will then expect, that, in such circumstances,
he should expatiate, to the by-standers,
on the heinous crime of adultery,
objected to this unhappy woman: a point,
concerning which they deserved not, from any
virtuous indignation they had conceived against
it, which they wanted not, from any ignorance
they were under of its general nature, to be
further satisfied or informed. They deserved,
and they wanted to be made sensible of their
own guilt and wickedness; and of this they derived
from Jesus the fullest conviction. This
was the sole purport of our Lord’s reply to
them: any other had been unseasonable and
improper; and therefore no man will now be
surprized to find the issue of this remarkable
conference in the mild dismission which he gives
to the unhappy person, who had furnished the
occasion of it.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_327">327</span></p>

<p>“When Jesus had lift up himself, and saw
none but the woman, he said to her, Woman,

where are those thine accusers? Hath
no man condemned thee? She said, No man,
Lord: Jesus said to her, Neither do I condemn
thee; go, and sin no more.”</p>

<p>The story concludes in the very manner we
should now expect from the preceding circumstances.
The accusers of the woman had withdrawn
themselves; being convicted in their
own minds, by the divine energy of Christ’s
reproof, of the very same crime, as some suppose,
but certainly of some crime of equal
malignity with that, which they had objected
to this sinner. Their accusation had not been
formed on their zeal for the honour of the law,
or any antipathy they had conceived to the
crime in question, but on the wicked purpose
of oppressing an innocent man. When they
failed of this end, they thought not of carrying
the criminal before the proper judge, or of
prosecuting the matter any further. To the
question then which our Lord put to her, <i>hath
no man condemned thee</i>, i. e. hath no man undertaken
to see the sentence of the law carried
into execution against thee? she answered, <i>No
man, Lord</i>. <i>Neither do I</i>, continued Jesus,
<i>condemn thee</i>: I, who am a private man, and
have no authority to execute the law; I, who
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_328">328</span>
<i>came not to judge the world, but to save the
world</i>, I presume not to pass the sentence of
death upon thee. I leave this matter to thine
accusers, and to the proper judge. But what
my office of a divine instructor of mankind
requires, that I am ready to perform towards
thee. Let me admonish thee, then, of thy
great wickedness in committing this act, and
exhort thee to repentance and a better life for
the future; <span class="smcap">Go, and sin no more</span>!</p>

<p>Every thing here is so natural and so proper,
so suitable to the circumstances of the case,
and to the character and office of Jesus, that no
shadow of blame can fall upon our Lord’s conduct;
nor has any man of sense, who considers
the history, the least reason to conclude that
any countenance is hereby given to the horrid
sin of adultery. The mistake (if it be purely
a mistake) has arisen from the ambiguous sense
of the words, <span class="smcap">I condemn thee not</span>; which
may either signify, <i>I blame thee not, or I pass
not the legal sentence of death upon thee</i>. But
they cannot be here taken in the former sense,
because Christ immediately charges the woman
with her guilt, and bids her <i>sin no more</i>;
Nay, they can only be taken in the latter sense,
because that was the sense in which her accusers
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_329">329</span>
had <i>not condemned her</i>; for otherwise,
by bringing her to Jesus, and by their vehement
accusation of her, they had sufficiently
testified their sense of her crime. When Jesus
therefore said, <i>Neither do I condemn thee</i>, he
could only be understood to mean, “Neither
do I take upon me to do that which thine accusers
have omitted to do; that is, I do not
condemn thee to be put to death; a sentence,
which however thou mayest deserve
by the law of Moses, I have no authority to
pronounce against thee.”</p>

<p>It should further be observed, that although
the turn here given by Jesus to this famous
accusation be indeed favourable to the criminal
(and it could not be otherwise, consistently
with his own safety, or even duty) yet it insinuates
nothing against the propriety of a legal
prosecution, nor gives the least countenance to
the magistrate to abate of his rigid execution
of the law which is entrusted to him. The
mixture of mercy and humanity in Christ’s decision
is indeed very amiable and becoming in
a private man; but had the question been,
“Whether it were not fit to prosecute so great
a crime in a legal and regular manner,” there
is no reason to believe that his answer would
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_330">330</span>
have given any check to the course of public
justice.</p>

<p>We see then from the whole narrative, and
from this comment upon it, That here is no
encouragement given to any man to think more
slightly of the sin of adultery, than other passages
of the Gospel, and the reason of the thing,
authorize him to do. The sin is unquestionably
of the deepest dye; is one of the most flagrant
that men can commit in society; and is equally
and uniformly condemned by nature itself and
by the Christian morals. If, besides <i>condemning</i>,
that is, expressing his abhorrence of the
sin, as Jesus did, he further made an adulterous
multitude sensible of their iniquity and
savage inhumanity in calling for the sudden and
tumultuary punishment of one, who had deserved
no worse than themselves, this benefit
was accessary and incidental to the circumstances
of the story; and, while it gives one
occasion to admire the address and lenity of our
divine master, takes nothing from the enormity
of the crime itself, or from the detestation
which he had of it. In short, one cannot well
conceive how Jesus could have done more in
the case, or have expressed his displeasure at
the crime more plainly, unless he had become
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_331">331</span>
a voluntary and officious informer against the
criminal; which, considering the occasion and
his own character, no man, I suppose, would
think reasonable.</p>

<p>To conclude: if men would call to mind
the purity and transcendant holiness of Christ’s
character, as evidenced in the general tenour
of his history, and considered withall, that
<i>never man spake as he spake</i>, they could not
suspect him of giving any quarter to vice; and
might be sure, that, if what he said on any
occasion, had the least appearance of looking
that way, the presumption must be without
grounds, and could only arise from their not
weighing and considering his words, so replete
with all <i>wisdom</i>, as well as goodness, with a
proper attention. The case before us, we
have seen, is a memorable instance of this
kind: and let all readers of the Gospel be
taught by it, that to understand the Scriptures,
and to cavil at them, are different things.
Let them be warned by this example, not to
impute their own follies to the sacred text,
which they must first misinterpret, before they
can abuse: And, above all, let them take heed
how they <i>turn the Grace of God into licentiousness</i>;
that is, how they seek to justify
to themselves, or even palliate, their own corruptions,
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_332">332</span>
by their loose and negligent, if not
perverse, glosses on the word of God; on that
<small>WORD</small>, by which they must stand or fall; and
which, like the divine Author of it, will surely
in the end <i>be justified in</i> all <i>its sayings, and
be clear when it is judged</i><a id="FNanchor_150" href="#Footnote_150" class="fnanchor">150</a>.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_333">333</span></p>

<h2 id="SERMON_XXIII">SERMON XXIII.<br />

<span class="medium">PREACHED MARCH 1, 1772.</span></h2>

<h3>St. <span class="smcap">Matthew</span>, xi. 29.</h3>

<p><i>Learn of me, for I am meek and lowly in
heart: And ye shall find rest unto your
souls.</i></p>

<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">The</span> moral quality recommended in the
text, was little known and less esteemed<a id="FNanchor_151" href="#Footnote_151" class="fnanchor">151</a> in
the heathen world. Not that <i>humility</i>, in the
Christian sense of the word; hath no foundation
in natural reason: but heathen practice gave
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_334">334</span>
no countenance to this Virtue, and the pride
of heathen philosophy would make no acquaintance
with her.</p>

<p>She was left then to be acknowledged, for
the first time, by Jesus of Nazareth, who
knew the worth of this modest stranger; and
therefore, as we see, recommends her to the
notice and familiarity of his disciples in the most
emphatic terms.</p>

<p>One would wonder how a virtue, so advantageously
introduced into the Christian world,
should be so much neglected by those who
call themselves of it. But the reason is not
difficult to be explained.</p>

<p>I. It was seen fit, for the ends of human
virtue, that, in moulding the constitution of
our common nature, a considerable degree of
what may be called <i>a generous pride</i>, should
be infused into it. Man, considered in one
view, touches on the brutal creation; in another,
he claims an affinity with God himself.
To sustain this nobler part of his composition,
the subject and source of all his diviner qualities,
the adorable wisdom of the Creator saw
good to implant in him a conscious sense of
worth and dignity; that so a just self-esteem
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_335">335</span>
might erect his thoughts and endeavours, and
keep him from submitting too easily to what
the baser half of his nature might exact from
him.</p>

<p>Thus far <small>INSTINCT</small> goes: and, as yet, there
is no blame. But then to moderate this instinct,
(a blind power of itself, and capable of
great excesses) to circumscribe its bounds, and
direct its energies to their true end, <small>REASON</small>, a
much higher faculty, was conferred on man;
and his duty, thenceforth, was to give the reins
to the natural sentiment, only so far as this supreme
arbitress of human life allowed.</p>

<p>And hence his corruption and misery took
its rise. He felt the <i>instinct</i> draw powerfully;
and he would not take, or would not be at the
pains to ask, the advice of <i>reason</i>, who was
ready to tell him how far he might yield
to it.</p>

<p>This wilfulness, or negligence, broke the
balance of his moral nature; till <i>reason</i>, in this,
as in so many other instances, was little regarded;
and the instinctive sentiment of <i>self-esteem</i>,
long since degenerated into lawless
pride, was left to domineer as it would; universally,
in the Pagan world, and, though checked
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_336">336</span>
by this seasonable admonition of our great
Master, too generally in the Christian.</p>

<p>This is the true account of the first and fundamental
reason, which makes <i>humility</i> so rare
a virtue, and of so difficult practice, even among
the disciples of Jesus.</p>

<p>II. A <i>second</i> reason is almost as extensive
as the former, because founded upon it; I mean,
the power of <i>habit and institution</i>.</p>

<p>The bias of our minds towards a just self-esteem,
not properly directed, presently became
<i>pride</i>: and pride, from being a general, was
easily mistaken for a <i>natural</i> principle; which
would then, of course, be unconfined in its
operation, and spread its influence through
every quarter of human life.</p>

<p>Hence our earliest education is tinctured
with this vicious self-esteem, and all our subsequent
institutions are infected with it. It is
cherished in the schools, under the name of
emulation; and in the world at large, under
that of ambition. Either sex, every age, every
condition, is governed by it. The female
world are called upon to value themselves; and
the male world to assert their own dignity.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_337">337</span>
The young are applauded for shewing signs of
spirit; and the old must vindicate themselves
from contempt. The lower ranks of men are
not to be trampled upon; and the higher, not
to be affronted. Our camps encourage it, as
the spring of courage: and our courts, as the
source of honour.</p>

<p>Thus pride predominates every where: and
even the moralist or preacher, who would give
some check to this principle, is thought to
have an abject mind himself, or not to know
that world, which he pretends to inform and
regulate.</p>

<p>What wonder then that this impatient and
tyrannical passion, which has general custom,
and therefore claims to have reason, on her side,
should yield with reluctance even to the authority
of religion?</p>

<p>III. <i>Another</i> cause, which contributes to
the same effect, a partial one indeed, but of no
small efficacy, where it prevails, is, perhaps,
the <i>Gothic principle of honour</i>, deeply interwoven
with most of our civil constitutions: a
principle, in itself not friendly to Christian
humility; but, as confederated with the other
two principles before mentioned, what can it
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_338">338</span>
do but inflame them both, and give an infinite
force to all their operations?</p>

<p>In these three considerations then, we have
the true account and history of <i>pride</i>, the bane
of civil life, and the disgrace of our moral nature.
It springs, first, from the <i>natural sentiment</i>,
easily indulged too far: it is, next,
fostered by <i>general habit</i>; and, in the end,
made sacred by <i>fashion</i>.  Thus, its tyranny
grew up, and is now so complete, that <i>lowliness
of mind</i> is ill looked upon even in the Christian
world; and her offspring, <i>meekness</i>, (the more
provoking of the two, as being that virtue drawn
forth into outward act) seems in a way to be
fairly dismissed from it.</p>

<p>It would hardly serve to reinstate these despised
virtues in their pristine honours, to tell
of their natures and conditions, to define their
properties, and deliver the grounds of reason
on which their pretensions are founded. Cold,
abstracted philosophy, would do but little in
this service. Besides, few persons want to be
informed what humility is, or how becoming
such a creature as man. And no informations,
in the general way of reasoning, could be given
with so much precision, but that a willing
mind might find a way to mistake or pervert
them.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_339">339</span></p>

<p>’Tis well then that the text supplies another
method of combating the universal pride of
mankind. It calls upon us to contemplate, in
the person of Jesus, the true and living form
of <i>humility</i>; and holds out a solid, and suitable
reward to the votaries of this divine virtue.
Would ye know what it is to be <i>meek and lowly
in heart? Learn of Jesus.</i> Do ye ask for
what end ye should learn this lesson of him?
the answer is direct and satisfactory, <i>Ye shall
find rest to your souls</i>. These topics, then,
must employ what remains of this discourse.</p>

<p>I. The particulars of Christ’s humility may
be seen at large in the history of his life. But
they are summed up by the Apostle Paul in few
words.</p>

<p><i>Let this mind be in you</i>, says he to the Philippians,
<i>which was also in Christ Jesus:
Who, being in the form of God, thought it no
robbery to be equal with God</i> [i. e. was in no
haste to seize upon and assert his right of
equality with him]; <i>but made himself of no
reputation, and took upon him the form of a
servant, and was made in the likeness of man;
and being found in fashion, as a man, he humbled
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_340">340</span>
himself, and became obedient to death, even
the death of the cross</i><a id="FNanchor_152" href="#Footnote_152" class="fnanchor">152</a>.</p>

<p>Who, that hears these words, can have a
doubt concerning the nature of humility, or
concerning the duties of it? If heaven stooped
to earth; if Jesus descended from the dignity,
I do not say of an angel, or an archangel, but
of God himself, to the abject state of man; if
he humbled himself to the lowest condition of
that state; veiled all his glories in the form of
a servant; in that form administered to our infirmities
and necessities; bore all the scorn,
the contradiction, the contumely of injurious
men; and even submitted himself to death,
the ignominious death of the cross, for their
sake&mdash;If <i>this mind was in Christ Jesus</i>, who
but must see, that the greatest of mankind may
well descend from all his real or fancied eminence,
for the service of his brother? may
easily forego the little advantage, which his
birth, his rank, his wealth, his learning, or
his parts, may seem to give him over his fellows,
when an act of charity is to be performed
by him; when the distresses, the infirmities,
nay the vices of humanity, may be relieved,
and covered, and corrected, by such condescension?
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_341">341</span>
To stoop for such ends is almost
pride itself: and to emulate such a pattern, is
scarce humility, but glory.</p>

<p>Nor think, that this humility requires of you
more than reason requires. You may suppress
your pride, without giving up necessary self-defence.
Ye may be <i>meek and lowly in heart</i>,
without being unjust to yourselves, or imprudent.
When your essential interests are concerned,
ye may assert them with firmness, and
even with spirit, in all ways, which good sense
allows, or true wisdom recommends. But let
not every petty injury, much less any fancied
injury, be presently avenged; let not little
neglects or discourtesies be hastily resented;
overlook many injuries, if not considerable;
nay, and many considerable injuries, if they
be but tolerable. Think not that your dignity
will suffer by such connivance. The true dignity
of man, is the performance of his duty.
Or, if some indignity be sustained, consider on
whose account, and by whose command ye
suffer it. Consider, that He, whose dignity
was infinitely above yours, submitted to <i>every</i>
indignity, and for your sake. The authority
of your divine Master is nothing, if it cannot
bind you in any instance to bear his <i>yoke</i>: And
to what end is the example of your divine
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_342">342</span>
Saviour set before you, if ye resolve, on no
account, to <i>take up your cross and follow
him</i><a id="FNanchor_153" href="#Footnote_153" class="fnanchor">153</a>?</p>

<p>But, because our compassionate Lord saw
how uneasy this precept would be to the indulged
and inveterate pride of his followers, he
has therefore condescended to assure them that
their obedience to it will, even in this world,
be attended with a suitable reward. <i>Ye shall
find rest to your souls.</i>  And this</p>

<p>II. Is the other topic, which I engaged to
insist upon, in this discourse.</p>

<p>The great objection to the virtues of <i>meekness
and humility</i>, is, that the practice of them
will put us to some present pain in resisting
the impulse of our disordered passions. It will
do so. Nature prompts us to repel an injury;
and that nature, vitiated and depraved, is in
haste to repel it with indignation, and even
fury. To give way to the impetuous sentiment,
would give us immediate ease; and to
suppress it, till the practice becomes habitual,
will cost us some throws and agitation of mind.
To counteract this instant disquiet, a recompence
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_343">343</span>
is proposed, exactly suited to the trial.
Our mind is discomposed, for the instant, by
the struggle we have to make with the incensed
passion: When that is over, it settles again
into a full and permanent tranquillity. <i>We
find rest</i>, as the text speaks, <i>to our souls</i>:
we have the purest peace within, and have
no disturbance of it to apprehend, from without.</p>

<p>1. The uneasiness which <i>pride</i> engenders,
receives, as I said, some present relief, from
the free course of that passion. But see the
consequence of giving way to it. Disgust, remorse,
fear, and hate, succeed to the indulgence
of this fiery sentiment, I mean, when it
proceeds so far as to acts of revenge. But, if
it stop short of this extreme, still the mind, by
nourishing its resentments, and brooding over
the idea of a supposed indignity, hurts its own
peace; grows sore and fretful, and suspicious;
and, though it be somewhat flattered by the
first tumultuous effort of its indignation, which
looks like courage and high spirit; yet, the
briskness of this sensation soon goes off, and
flattens into a sullen gloom of thought, the
bane of every selfish, as well as social enjoyment.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_344">344</span></p>

<p>It is much otherwise with the <i>meek and
lowly in heart</i>. They never retaliate injuries,
and seldom resent them. They either feel not
the stroke of them; or, if they do, the wound
is instantly healed by the balsamic virtue of
their own minds. But, indeed, a man, well
disciplined in the school of humility, receives
but few injuries, for he <i>suspects</i> none; it
being, I think, true, that, for one real injury
done us by others, a hundred such things, as
we call by that name, are only bred in our
own captious and distempered imaginations.
And then, for those few injuries which he actually
receives, they are easily slighted or forgotten
by him; because he sees them only in
their true shape and size, and not as magnified
by an extravagant opinion of his own worth,
and as extravagant a contempt of the aggressor.
He knows his own infirmities, and can allow
for those of other men. If they are petulant
or unjust, he, perhaps, has been inobservant
or imprudent: besides, he never thought himself
entitled to any special respect, and therefore
wonders the less, if no great ceremony has
been used towards him. To these suggestions
of humanity, he adds those of <i>religion</i>. He
knows what his Master enjoins, and he remembers
on what terms the injunction is
pressed upon him. And thus, though the indignity
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_345">345</span>
seem great, he easily excuses one half
of it, and forgives the other. The issue is,
that he finds <i>rest</i> in his own soul, which the
proud man never does: so that, as to internal
peace, the advantage is clearly on the side of
meekness and humility. But then,</p>

<p>2. As to <i>external peace</i>, the matter may be
thought more problematical. “For that softness
of mind, which religion calls <i>humility</i>,
invites, it is said, and multiplies injuries. Forgive
one insult, and you draw upon you a
hundred more so that, if humility be a virtue,
it is never likely to be out of breath for
want of exercise and employment. In a word,
the world is so base, that there is no keeping
it in respect, but by <i>fear</i>: and how is that
needful sentiment to be impressed on the minds
of injurious men, in those numberless cases
which civil justice cannot reach, but by a quick
resentment and personal high spirit?”</p>

<p>Such is the language of those who have learned
their ethics of the world, and not of the Gospel.
But let us see what there is in the allegation
itself.</p>

<p><i>To connive at one indignity, is</i>, they say,
<i>the ready way to invite another</i>. It may be
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_346">346</span>
so, in some rare cases, when we have to do
with singularly base and ungenerous natures;
but even then, I think, chiefly, if not solely,
when that connivance is joined with imprudence
or folly: and then it is not humility
should bear the blame, but our own indiscretion.
Besides, the question is concerning
a general rule of conduct: and this rule may be
a fit and reasonable one, though it admit, as
most rules do, of some exceptions.</p>

<p>Again, though a wise and good man will
frequently suppress, and always moderate
resentment, yet neither reason nor the religion
of Jesus requires, that in no case whatsoever
should we be actuated by that principle.  The
principle itself, as I have shewn, is a natural
one, and under due restraint may serve to good
purposes; one of which, perhaps, is to give
check to overbearing insolence and oppression,
I mean when it rises to a certain degree and
exceeds certain bounds. Even our blessed Lord,
who was meekness itself, thought fit on some
occasions to express a very strong resentment:
as, when he upbraided the Pharisees in no gentle
terms, but, in a just indignation at their malice,
went so far as to brand them with the bitter
names of <i>vipers and serpents</i>, and to menace
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_347">347</span>
them with the flames of <i>hell</i><a id="FNanchor_154" href="#Footnote_154" class="fnanchor">154</a>. So that meekness
and resentment are not absolutely incompatible;
though the danger of exceeding in this
last quality is so great, that the general rule
both of reason and Christianity, is to cultivate
meekness in ourselves, and to restrain our resentments.</p>

<p>“But, if exceptions be allowed in any case,
the rule, it will be said, becomes of no use;
for that pride and passion will find an exception
in every case.” If they should, they must
answer for themselves. In all moral matters,
something, nay much, must be left to the fairness
and honesty of the mind. Without this
principle, the plainest rule of life may be
evaded or abused: and with it, even that hard
saying, of <i>loving our enemies</i>, which is near
of kin to this of <i>meekness</i>, is easily understood,
and may be reasonably applied.</p>

<p>“Still, the rule, it is said, must be an improper
one; for that the world, not some few
persons, but mankind in general, are only to
be kept in order by <i>force and fear</i>.” So far
as there is truth in this observation, the civil
sword, in every country, supplies that needful
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_348">348</span>
restraint. But in the general commerce between
man and man, in all offices of civility
and society, that is, in cases where the stronger
passions and more important interests of men
are not directly concerned, as they are in what
relates to property and power, the observation
is clearly not true. Here, pride is the predominant
vice of mankind. And pride is naturally
softened and disarmed by placability and
meekness. The good humour of the world
is easily and most effectually maintained by
mutual concessions and reciprocal civilities:
for pride, having a mixture of generosity in it,
yields to these, and loses all the fierceness of
its nature. So that they, who bring this
charge against the world, calumniate their
kind, and either shew that they have kept ill
company; or, as I rather suspect, have never
tried the experiment, which they say is so
hopeless. Let them learn to think more favourably,
that is, more justly, of human nature.
We are passionate, infirm creatures,
indeed; but still men, and not fiends. Let
them set the example of that <i>humility</i>, which
they affect to think so unpromising a guard
against injuries: and I dare assure them they
will generally find themselves better defended
by it, than by any resentment or high spirit
which they can possibly exert.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_349">349</span></p>

<p>Lastly, I would observe, that, if in some
rare instances, and in places, especially, where
fashion has made resentment highly creditable,
this practice be found inconvenient, the rule
is not to be set aside on that account. The
authority of the legislator should exact obedience
to it; and the inconvenience will be
amply compensated by other considerations. We
shall have the merit of testifying the sincerity
of our religion, by giving to God and man so
eminent a proof of it; and, in due time, we
shall have our reward.</p>

<p>To conclude: in this and all other cases, we
shall do well to <i>learn of Jesus, who was meek
and lowly in heart</i>. His authority, his example,
his affectionate call upon us in the
words of the text, are powerful motives to the
practice of this duty. And for the rest, we
have seen, that it leads directly to <i>peace and
quiet</i>, in our intercourse with each other; or,
if the perverseness of man should sometimes
disappoint us in this expectation, that it will
certainly and infallibly <i>yield rest to our own
souls</i>.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_350">350</span></p>

<h2 id="SERMON_XXIV">SERMON XXIV.<br />

<span class="medium">PREACHED APRIL 30, 1769.</span></h2>

<h3><span class="smcap">Luke</span> xvi. 14.</h3>

<p><i>And the Pharisees also, who were covetous,
heard all those things, and they derided him.</i></p>

<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">But</span> what then were <i>those things</i> which
our Lord had said in the hearing of the Pharisees,
and for which they derided him?</p>

<p>Had he been inveighing against the vice of
covetousness in any unreasonable manner? Had
he carried the opposite virtue to an extreme,
as some moralists have done? Had he told the
Pharisees that the possession, and much more
the enjoyment of riches, was, universally, and
under all circumstances, unlawful? Had he
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_351">351</span>
pressed it as a matter of conscience upon them,
to divest themselves of their wealth, and to
embrace an absolute and voluntary poverty?
Had he even gone so far as to advise these
Pharisees, as he once did a rich man, to <i>sell
what they had and give it to the poor, and
then take up the cross and follow him</i><a id="FNanchor_155" href="#Footnote_155" class="fnanchor">155</a>?</p>

<p>Alas, no. He had been saying none of
<i>these things</i>. He did not think well enough
of the Pharisees to give this last counsel of
exalted charity to <i>them</i>; a counsel, which he
had addressed to one whom he loved, to one
who was a virtuous man as well as rich, and
who wanted only this <i>one thing</i>, to make him
perfect.</p>

<p>And as for those other precepts, which would
have implied, that riches were unlawful in
themselves, and the possession of them a crime,
he was too sober a moralist to address a lecture
of this sort to any of his hearers.</p>

<p>The truth is, he had only been advising rich
men to employ their wealth in such a way as
should turn to the best account, to <i>make themselves
friends of the mammon of unrighteousness</i>;
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_352">352</span>
that is, such friends, as should be able
to repay them with interest, and, when these
houses of clay are overturned, should <i>receive
them into everlasting habitations</i>: and, to
give this advice the greater weight with them,
he had concluded his discourse with saying,
that such conduct was even necessary, if they
aspired to this reward, for that they <i>could not
serve God and mammon</i>; that is, they could
not serve <i>God</i> acceptably, unless they withdrew
their service from <i>mammon</i> in all those
cases, in which the commands of two such different
masters interfered with each other.</p>

<p>Such, and so reasonable was the doctrine
which Jesus had been delivering to the Pharisees.
And how then could it provoke their
<i>derision</i>?</p>

<p>The text answers this question&mdash;<small>THEY WERE
COVETOUS</small>. Their life was a contradiction to
this doctrine, and therefore they found it unreasonable,
and even ridiculous.</p>

<p>Nor let it be thought, that this illusion is
peculiar to avarice. It is familiar to vice of
every kind, to scorn reproof; to make light of
the doctrine, which condemns it; and, when
it cannot confute, to deride the teacher.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_353">353</span></p>

<p>So that the text affords this general observation,
“That, when the heart is corrupted by
any vice, it naturally breeds a disposition to
unreasonable mirth and ridicule.”</p>

<p>And, because this levity of mind, in its
turn, corrupts the heart still further, it may
be of use to open to you, more particularly,
<i>the sources of irreligious scorn</i>; to let you
see from how base an origin it springs; how it
rises, indeed, on the subversion of every principle,
by which a virtuous man is governed,
and by which there is hope that a vicious man
may be reclaimed.</p>

<p>Now ye will easily apprehend how the sinner
comes to cultivate in himself this miserable
talent, if ye reflect; <i>how much he is concerned
to avoid the</i> <small>EVIDENCE</small> <i>of moral truth; how
insensible he chuses to be to the</i> <small>DIFFERENCES</small>
<i>of moral sentiment; how studiously he would
keep out of sight the</i> <small>CONSEQUENCES</small> <i>of moral
action</i>: And if ye consider, withal, how well
adapted <i>the way of ridicule</i> is, to answer all
these purposes.</p>

<p>I. <span class="smcap">First</span>, then, the sinner is much disposed
to withhold his attention from <i>the evidence of</i>
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_354">354</span>
<i>moral truth</i>; and the way of ridicule favours
this bad disposition.</p>

<p>When a moral lesson is addressed to us, it
is but a common piece of respect we owe the
teacher of it, and indeed ourselves, to see what
the ideas are of which the doctrine is made up;
to consider whether there be a proper coherence
between those ideas; whether what is affirmed
in the proposition be consonant to truth and
reason, or not. If upon this enquiry we find
that the affirmation is well founded, either
from our immediate perception of the dependency
between the ideas themselves, or from
the evidence of some remoter principle, with
which it is duly connected, we admit it thenceforth
as a truth, and are obliged, if we would
act in a reasonable manner, to pay it that regard
which may be due to its importance. This is
the duty of a rational hearer in the school of
instruction: and this, the process of the mind,
in discharging that duty. But this work of
the understanding, it is plain, requires attention
and seriousness; <i>attention</i>, to apprehend the
meaning of the proposition delivered to us,
and <i>seriousness</i>, to judge of its truth and
moment.</p>

<p>Indeed, if the result of our enquiry be, that
the proposition is unmeaning, or false, or frivolous,
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_355">355</span>
we of course reject it, and, perhaps,
with some contempt: but then this contempt
is subsequent to the inquiry, and would itself
be ridiculous, if it went before it.</p>

<p>It is apparent, then, what reason demands
in the case. But the precipitancy of the mind
is such, that it often concludes before it understands,
and, what is worse, contemns what it
has not examined. This last folly is more
especially chargeable on those who are under
the influence of some inveterate prejudice, or
prevailing passion. For, when the moral instruction
pressed upon us, directly opposes a
principle we will not part with, or contradicts
an inclination we resolve to cherish, the very
repugnancy of the doctrine to our notions or
humours creates disgust: and then, to spare
ourselves the trouble of inquiry, or to countenance
the hasty persuasion that we have no
need to inquire at all, we very naturally express
that disgust in contempt and ridicule.</p>

<p>I explain myself by the instance in the text,
Jesus had said, <i>Ye cannot serve God and mammon</i>.
The Pharisees, who heard him say
this, had taken their resolution, <i>to serve
mammon</i>; and they had, it seems, a principle
of their own, on which they presumed
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_356">356</span>
to satisfy themselves, that they, likewise,
<i>served God</i>. Now, this aphorism of our
Lord coming against these prejudices, they
had not the patience to consider what truth
there was in the assertion; what it was <i>to
serve God</i>, and what it was <i>to serve mammon</i>;
and what inconsistency there was between
these two services. This way of inquiry,
which reason prescribes, was too slow for these
impatient spirits; and, besides, was contrary
to their fixed purpose of adhering, to their old
principles and practices. They therefore take
a shorter method of setting aside the obnoxious
proposition. They conclude hastily,
that their service of mammon was, some how
or other, made consistent with their service of
God, by virtue of their <i>long prayers</i>. And,
for the rest, they condescend not to reason
upon the point at all: to get quit of this trouble,
or rather, to conceal from themselves, if possible,
the deformity of their practice, they slur
an important lesson over with an air of negligent
raillery, and think it sufficient to <i>deride</i>
the teacher of it.</p>

<p>Ye see then how naturally it comes to pass
that the way of ridicule is taken up by the sinner,
to avoid the trouble and confusion which
must needs arise from a serious attention to the
evidence of moral truth.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_357">357</span></p>

<p>II. It serves equally in the next place, to
sooth and flatter his corruption, by keeping
him insensible, as he would chuse to be, to <i>the
differences of moral sentiment</i>.</p>

<p>The divine wisdom has so wonderfully contrived
human nature, that there needs little
more in moral matters, than plainly and clearly
to represent any instruction to the mind, in
order to procure its assent to it. Whatever
the instruction be, whether it affirm this conduct
to be virtuous, or that vicious, if the mind
be in its natural state, it more than sees, it
feels, the truth or falshood of it. The appeal
lies directly to the heart, and to certain corresponding
sentiments of right and wrong, instantly
and unavoidably excited by the moral
proposition<a id="FNanchor_156" href="#Footnote_156" class="fnanchor">156</a>.</p>

<p>It is true, the vivacity of these sentiments
may be much weakened by habits of vice; but
they must grow into a great inveteracy indeed,
before they can altogether extinguish the natural
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_358">358</span>
perception. The only way to prevent this
sensibility from taking place in a mind, not
perfectly abandoned, is to keep the moral truth
itself out of sight; or, which comes to the same
thing, to misrepresent it. For, being then
not taken for what it is, but for something else,
it is the same thing as if the truth itself had not
been proposed to us. But now this power of
misrepresentation is that faculty in which ridicule
excells. Nothing is easier for it than to
distort a reasonable proposition, or to throw
some false light of the fancy upon it. The
soberest truth is then travestied into an apparent
falshood; and, instead of exciting the
moral sentiment which properly belongs to it,
only serves, under this disguise, to provoke
the scorner’s mirth on a phantom of his own
raising.</p>

<p>The instance in the text will again illustrate
this observation.</p>

<p>Had the Pharisees seen, that, <i>to serve God</i>
implies an universal obedience to all his laws,
and that, <i>to serve mammon</i> implies an equal
submission to all the maxims of the world, and
that these laws and these maxims are, in numberless
cases, directly contrary to each other,
they would then have seen our Lord’s observation
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_359">359</span>
in its true light; and they could not
have helped feeling the propriety of the conduct
recommended to them. But the sentiments
arising out of this truth, would have
given no small disturbance to men, who were
determined to act in defiance of them. To
avoid this inconvenience, they had only to put
a false gloss on the words of Jesus; to suppose,
for instance, that by serving God was meant,
to <i>make long prayers</i>, and by serving mammon,
to make a <i>reasonable provision for their
families</i>; and, then, where was the inconsistency
of two such services? In this way of
understanding the text, nothing is easier than
<i>to serve God and mammon</i>. And thus, by
substituting a proposition of their own, in the
room of that which he had delivered, they
escape from his reproof, and even find means
to divert themselves with it.</p>

<p>III. But, lastly, a vicious man is not more
concerned to obscure the evidence of moral
truth, and to suppress in himself the differences
of moral sentiment, than he is to keep out of
sight <i>the consequences of moral action</i>: and
what so likely as ridicule to befriend him
also in this project.</p>

<p>When the sinner looks forward into the
effects of a vicious life, he sees so much misery
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_360">360</span>
springing up before him, even in this world,
and so dreadful a recompence reserved for him
in another, that the prospect must needs be
painful to him. He has his choice, indeed,
whether to stop, or proceed, in his evil course;
but, if he resolve to proceed, one cannot think
it strange that he should strive to forget, both
what he is about, and whither he is going.
And, if other expedients fail him, he very
naturally takes refuge in a forced intemperate
pleasantry. For the very effort to be witty
occupies his attention, and gratifies his vanity.
A little crackling mirth, besides, diverts and
entertains him; and, though his case will not
bear reasoning upon, yet a lively jest shall pass
upon others, and sometimes upon himself, for
the soundest reason.</p>

<p>This is the true account of that disposition
to ridicule, which the world so commonly observes
in bad men, and sometimes mistakes
for an argument of their tranquillity, when it
is, in truth, an evident symptom of their distress.
For they would forget themselves, in
this noisy mirth; just as children laugh out, to
keep up their spirits in the dark.</p>

<p>Let me alledge the case in the text once more,
to exemplify this remark.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_361">361</span></p>

<p>When our Lord reproved the Pharisees for
their covetousness, and admonished them how
impossible it was <i>to serve God and mammon</i>,
the weight of this remonstrance should, in all
reason, have engaged their serious attention:
and then they would have seen how criminal
their conduct was, in <i>devouring widows houses</i>,
while yet they pretended a zeal for <i>the house
of God</i>; and being led by the principles of
their sect to admit a future existence, it was
natural for them, under this conviction, to expect
the just vengeance of their crimes.</p>

<p>But vice had made them ingenious, and
taught them how to elude this dreadful conclusion.
They represented to themselves their
reprover in a ridiculous light; probably as one
of those moralists, who know nothing of the
world, and outrage truth and reason in their
censures of it: or, they affected to see him in
this light, in order to break the force of his remonstrance,
and insinuate to the by-standers,
that it merited no other confutation than that of
neglect. They did, then, as vicious men are
wont to do; they resolved not to consider the
consequences of their own conduct; and supported
themselves in this resolution by <i>deriding</i>
the person, who, in charity, would have
led them to their duty.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_362">362</span></p>

<p>Thus it appears how naturally the way of
ridicule is employed by those who determine
not to comply with the rules of reason and religion.
They are solicitous to keep <i>the evidence
of moral truth</i> from pressing too closely upon
them: they would confound and obliterate, if
they could, <i>the differences of moral sentiment</i>:
they would overlook, if possible, the <i>consequences
of moral action</i>: and nothing promises
so fair to set them at ease, in these three respects,
as to cultivate that turn of mind, which
obscures truth, hardens the heart, and stupifies
the understanding. For such is the
proper effect of dissolute mirth; the mortal foe
to reason, virtue, and to common prudence.</p>

<p>I have shewn you this very clearly in the case
of one vice, the vice of avarice, as exemplified
by the Pharisees in the text. But, as I said,
every other vice is equally disingenuous, and
for the same reason. Tell the ambitious man,
in the language of Solomon, that <i>by humility
and the fear of the Lord, cometh honour</i><a id="FNanchor_157" href="#Footnote_157" class="fnanchor">157</a>;
and he will loudly deride his instructor: or,
tell the voluptuous man, in the language of St.
Paul, <i>that he, who liveth in pleasure, is dead
while he liveth</i><a id="FNanchor_158" href="#Footnote_158" class="fnanchor">158</a>; and you may certainly expect
the same treatment.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_363">363</span></p>

<p>It is not, that vague and general invectives
against vice will always be thus received: but
let the reproof, as that in the text, be pressing
and poignant, let it <i>come home to men’s bosoms</i>,
and penetrate, by its force and truth, the inmost
foldings and recesses of conscience, and
see if the man, who is touched by your reproof,
and yet will not be reclaimed by it; see,
I say, if he be not carried, by a sort of instinct,
to repel your charitable pains with scorn and
mockery. Had Jesus instructed the Pharisees
<i>to pray and fast often</i>; or had he exhorted
them, in general terms, to keep the law and to
serve God; they had probably given him the
hearing with much apparent composure: but
when he spoke against <i>serving mammon</i>,
whom they idolized: and still more, when he
told these hypocritical worldlings, that their
service of mammon did not, and could not
consist with God’s service, to which they so
much pretended; then it was that they betook
themselves to their arms: they <i>heared these
things</i>, and because <i>they were covetous</i>, they
<i>derided</i> their teacher.</p>

<p>If this be a just picture of human nature, it
may let us see how poor a talent that of ridicule
is, both in its origin, and application. For,
when employed in moral and religious matters,
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_364">364</span>
we may certainly pronounce of it, That it
springs from vice, and means nothing else but
the support of it. Should not the scorner himself,
then, reflect of what every other man
sees, “That his mirth implies guilt, and that
he only laughs, because he dares not be serious?”</p>

<p>But Solomon<a id="FNanchor_159" href="#Footnote_159" class="fnanchor">159</a> has long since read the destiny
of him, who would reprove men of this
character. It will be to better purpose, therefore,
to warn the young and unexperienced
against the contagion of vicious scorn; by which
many have been corrupted, on whom vice itself,
in its own proper form, would have made
no impression. For the modesty of virtue too
easily concludes, that what is much ridiculed
must, itself, be ridiculous: and, when this
conclusion is taken up, reflexion many times
comes too late to correct the mischiefs of it.
Let those, then, who have not yet seated themselves
<i>in the chair of the scorner</i>, consider,
that ridicule is but the last effort of baffled vice
to keep itself in countenance; that it betrays a
corrupt turn of mind, and only serves to promote
that corruption. Let them understand,
that this faculty is no argument of superior
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_365">365</span>
sense, rarely of superior wit; and that it proves
nothing but the profligacy, or the folly of him,
who affects to be distinguished by it. Let them,
in a word, reflect, that virtue and reason love
to be, and can afford to be, serious: but that
vice and folly are undone, if they let go their
favourite habit of scorn and derision.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_366">366</span></p>

<h2 id="SERMON_XXV">SERMON XXV.<br />

<span class="medium">PREACHED JUNE 25, 1775.</span></h2>

<h3><span class="smcap">Ecclesiastes</span> v. 10.</h3>

<p><i>He that loveth silver, shall not be satisfied
with silver.</i></p>

<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">If</span> a preacher on these words should set himself
to declaim against silver, he would probably
be but ill-heared, and would certainly go beside
the meaning of his text.</p>

<p><span class="smcap">Silver</span> (or gold) is only an instrument of
exchange; a sign of the price which things
bear in the commerce of life. This instrument
is of the most necessary use in society.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_367">367</span>
Without it, there would be no convenience of
living, no supply of our mutual wants, no industry,
no civility, I had almost said, no virtue
among men.</p>

<p>The author of the text was clearly of this
mind; since, on many occasions, he makes
wealth the reward of wisdom, and poverty, of
folly; and since he laboured all his life, and
with suitable success, to multiply gold and
silver in his dominions, beyond the example of
all former, and indeed succeeding, kings of the
Jewish state.</p>

<p>The precious metals, then, (both for the
reason of the thing, and the authority of Solomon)
shall preserve their lustre unsullied, and
their honours unimpaired by me. Poets and
satirists have, indeed, execrated those, who
tore the entrails of the earth for them; and,
provoked by the general abuse of them, have
seemed willing that they should be sent back
to their beds again. But sober moralists hold
no such language; and are content that they
remain above ground, and shine out in the face
of the sun.</p>

<p>Still (for I come now to the true meaning
of my text) good and useful things may be
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_368">368</span>
<small>OVER-RATED</small>, or <small>MISAPPLIED</small>; and, in either
way, may become hurtful to us. <i>He, that</i>, in
the emphatic language of the preacher, <small>LOVETH</small>
<i>silver</i>, certainly offends in one of these ways,
and probably in both: and, when he does so,
it will be easy to make good the royal denunciation&mdash;that
<i>he shall not be</i> <small>SATISFIED</small> <i>with it</i>.</p>

<p>1. Now, wealth is surely over-rated, when,
instead of regarding it only as the means of procuring
a reasonable enjoyment of our lives, we
dote upon it for its own sake, and make it the
end, or chief object of our pursuits: when we
sacrifice, not only ease and leisure, (which,
though valuable things, are often well recompensed
by the pleasures of industry and activity),
but health and life to it: when we <i>grieve
nature</i><a id="FNanchor_160" href="#Footnote_160" class="fnanchor">160</a>, to gratify this fantastic passion; and
give up the social pleasures, the true pleasures
of humanity, for the sordid satisfaction of
seeing ourselves possessed of an abundance,
which we never mean to enjoy: above all,
when we purchase wealth at the expence of
our innocence; when we prefer it to a good
name, and a clear conscience; when we suffer
it to interfere with our most important concerns,
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_369">369</span>
those of piety and religion; and when,
for the sake of it, we are contented to forego
the noblest hopes, the support and glory of
our nature, the hopes of happiness in a future
state.</p>

<p>When the false glitter of <i>silver</i> (<i>of which
the owner</i>, as Solomon says, <i>has</i>, and proposes
to himself, <i>no other good, but that of beholding
it with his eyes</i><a id="FNanchor_161" href="#Footnote_161" class="fnanchor">161</a>) imposes upon us at this
rate, how should our reasonable nature find
any true or solid <i>satisfaction</i> in it!</p>

<p>“But the mere act of acquiring and accumulating
wealth is, it will be said, the miser’s
pleasure, of which himself, and no other, is
the proper judge; and a certain confused notion
of the uses, to which it may serve, though he
never actually puts it to any, is enough to
justify his pursuit of it.”</p>

<p>Be it so, then: But is there no better pleasure
for him to aim at, and which he loses by
following this; and although <i>a man’s ways</i>,
we are told, <i>be right in his own eyes</i><a id="FNanchor_162" href="#Footnote_162" class="fnanchor">162</a>; yet,
is there no difference in them, and do not
some of them lead through much trouble to
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_370">370</span>
disappointment and <i>death</i>? And is there not a
presumption, a certainty, that the way of the
<i>miser</i> is of this sort? when his very name may
admonish him of the light in which the common
sense of mankind regards his pursuit of
untasted opulence; and when he finds, by
experience, that his unnatural appetite for it
is always encreasing, be the plenty never so
great which is set before him. But,</p>

<p>2. Wealth may be <small>MISAPPLIED</small>, as well as
over-rated, and generally is so, in the most
offensive manner, by those, who think there
are no pleasures, which it cannot command.
For, although the miser has the worse name
in the world, yet the spendthrift (since a certain
alliance, which has taken place between
luxury and avarice) possibly deserves our indignation
more.</p>

<p>But ye shall judge for yourselves. Are not
riches, let me ask, sadly misapplied, when,
after having been pursued and seized upon,
with more than a miser’s fury, they are suddenly
let go again, on all the wings<a id="FNanchor_163" href="#Footnote_163" class="fnanchor">163</a> of prodigality
and folly? which scatter their precious
load, not on modest merit, or virtuous industry,
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_371">371</span>
or suffering innocence, but on the
flatterers of pride, the retainers of pomp, the
panders of pleasure; in a word, on those
miscreants, who imped these harpies, and
sent them forth, for the annoyance of mankind.</p>

<p>And well are these spendthrifts repaid for
their good service. For this profusion brings
on more pains and penalties, than I am able
to express; disappointment, regret, disgust,
and infamy; and not uncommonly, in the
train of these, that tremendous spectre to a
voluptuous man, <i>Poverty</i>: or, if the source,
which feeds this whirlpool of riotous expence,
be yet unexhausted, and flow copiously, these
waters have that baleful quality, that they inflame,
instead of quenching, the drinker’s
thirst. All his natural appetites grow nice
and delicate; and ten thousand artificial ones
are created, and become more vexatious to
him, than any that are of nature’s growth.
The idolater of riches, the infatuated lover of
<i>silver</i>, now finds, that the power he serves,
the mistress he adores, yields him no other
fruit of all his assiduity, but self-abhorrence
and distraction; the loss of all virtuous feelings;
and numberless clamorous desires, which give
him no truce of their importunity, and are
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_372">372</span>
incapable, by any gratification, of being
quieted and assuaged.</p>

<p>So true is the observation, that <i>he, who,
loveth silver, shall not be satisfied with silver</i>!
For, either the passion grows upon us, when
the object is not enjoyed; or, if it be, a new
force is given to it, and a legion of other
passions, as impatient and unmanageable as
the original one, start up out of the enjoyment
itself.</p>

<p>I know the lovers of money are not easily
made sensible of this fatal alternative. They
think, that this, or that sum, will fill<a id="FNanchor_164" href="#Footnote_164" class="fnanchor">164</a> all
their wishes, and make them as rich, and as
happy, as they desire to be. But they presently
feel their mistake; and yet rarely find
out, that the way to content lies through self-command,
and that to have enough of any
thing which this world affords, we must be
careful not to grasp at too much of it.</p>

<p>On the entrance into life, higher and more
generous motives usually excite the better part
of mankind to labour in those professions, that
are accounted liberal. But, as they proceed
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_373">373</span>
in their course, interest, which was always one
spur to their industry, infixes itself deeply
into their minds, and stimulates them more
sensibly than any other. It can scarce be
otherwise, considering the influence of example;
the experience they have, or think
they have, of the advantages, that attend encreasing
wealth; the fashion of the times,
which indulges, or, as we easily persuade ourselves,
requires refined, and therefore expensive,
pleasures; and, above all, the selfishness of
the human mind, which is, and, for wise
reasons, was intended to be a powerful spring
of action in us.</p>

<p>Thus there are several adventitious, shall
we call them? or natural inclinations, which
prompt us to the pursuit of riches; and I would
not be so rigid, as to insist on the total suppression
of them.</p>

<p>Let then the fortune, or the honour (for
both are included in the magical word <i>silver</i>)
which eminent worth may propose to itself, be
among the inducements which erect the hopes,
and quicken the application, of a virtuous man.
But let him know withal (and I am in no pain
for the effect, which this premature knowledge
may have upon him) that the application, and
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_374">374</span>
not the object, is that in which he will find
his account; just as the pursuit, and not the
game, is the true reward of the chace. He who
thinks otherwise, and reckons that affluence is
content, or grandeur, happiness, will have
leisure, if he attain to either, to rectify his
opinion, and to see that he had made a very
false estimate of human life.</p>

<p>And, now, having thus far commented on
my text, I will take leave, for once, to step
beyond it, and shew you, in few words (for
many cannot be necessary on so plain a subject)
<i>where</i> and <i>how</i> satisfaction may be found.</p>

<p>In the abundance of <i>silver</i>, it does not, and
cannot lie; nor yet in a cynical contempt of
it: but, in few and moderate desires; in a
correct taste of life, which consults nature
more than fancy in the choice of its pleasures;
in rejecting imaginary wants, and keeping a
strict hand on those that are real; in a sober
use of what we possess, and no further concern
about more than what may engage us, by
honest means, to acquire it; in considering
who, and what we are<a id="FNanchor_165" href="#Footnote_165" class="fnanchor">165</a>; that we are creatures
of a day, to whom long desires and immeasurable
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_375">375</span>
projects are very ill suited; that we are
reasonable creatures, who should make a wide
difference between what seems to be, and
what is important; that we are accountable
creatures, and should be more concerned to
make a right use of what we possess, than to
enlarge our possessions; that, above all, we
are Christians, who are expected to sit loose to
a transitory world, to extend our hopes to another
life, and to qualify ourselves for it.</p>

<p>In this way, and with these reflections, we
shall see things in a true light, and shall either
not desire abundant wealth, or shall understand
its true value. The strictest morality,
and even our divine religion, lays no obligation
upon us to profess poverty. We are even required
to be industrious in our several callings
and stations, and are, of course, allowed to
reap the fruits, whatever they be, of an honest
industry. Yet it deserves our consideration,
that wealth is always a snare, and therefore too
often a curse; that, if virtuously obtained, it
affords but a moderate satisfaction at best; and
that, if we <small>WILL</small> be rich, that is, resolve by
any means, and at all events, to be so, we
<i>pierce ourselves through with many sorrows</i><a id="FNanchor_166" href="#Footnote_166" class="fnanchor">166</a>;
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_376">376</span>
that it even requires more virtue to manage,
as we ought, a great estate, than to acquire it,
in the most reputable manner; that affluent,
and, still more, enormous wealth secularizes
the heart of a Christian too much, indisposes
him for the offices of piety, and too often
(though it may seem strange) for those of humanity;
that it inspires a sufficiency and self-dependance,
which was not designed for mortal
man; an impatience of complying with the
rules of reason, and the commands of religion;
a forgetfulness of our highest duties, or an
extreme reluctance to observe them.</p>

<p>In a word, when we have computed all the
advantages, which a flowing prosperity brings
with it, it will be our wisdom to remember,
that its disadvantages are also great<a id="FNanchor_167" href="#Footnote_167" class="fnanchor">167</a>; greater
than surely we are aware of, if it be true, as
our Lord himself assures us it is; <i>that a rich
man shall hardly enter into the kingdom of
Heaven</i><a id="FNanchor_168" href="#Footnote_168" class="fnanchor">168</a>.</p>

<p>Yet, <i>with God</i> (our gracious Master adds)
<i>all things are possible</i>. I return, therefore,
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_377">377</span>
to the doctrine with which I set out, and conclude;
that riches are not evil in themselves;
that the moderate desire of them is not unlawful;
that a right use of them is even meritorious.
But then you will reflect on what
the nature of things, as well as the voice of
Solomon, loudly declares, that <i>he who loveth
silver, shall not be satisfied with silver</i>; that
the capacity of the human mind is not filled
with it; that, if we pursue it with ardour, and
make it the sole or the chief object of our pursuit,
it never did, and never can yield a true
and permanent satisfaction; that, if <i>riches
encrease</i>, it is our interest, as well as duty, <i>not
to set our hearts upon them</i><a id="FNanchor_169" href="#Footnote_169" class="fnanchor">169</a>; and that,
finally, we are so to employ the riches, we any
of us have, with temperance and sobriety,
with mercy and charity, as to <i>make ourselves
friends of the mammon of unrighteousness</i>
(of the mammon, which usually deserves to be
so called) that, <i>when we fail</i> (when our lives
come, as they soon will do, to an end) <i>they
may receive us into everlasting habitations</i><a id="FNanchor_170" href="#Footnote_170" class="fnanchor">170</a>.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_378">378</span></p>

<h2 id="SERMON_XXVI">SERMON XXVI.<br />

<span class="medium">PREACHED FEBRUARY 21, 1773.</span></h2>

<h3>1 <span class="smcap">Cor.</span> vi. 20.</h3>

<p><i>Therefore glorify God in your body, and in
your spirit, which are God’s.</i></p>

<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">The</span> words, as the expression shews, are
an inference from the preceding part of the
Apostle’s discourse. The occasion was this.
He had been reasoning, towards the close of
this chapter, against fornication, or the vice of
impurity; to which the Gentiles, in their unbelieving
state, had been notoriously addicted;
and for which the Corinthians (to whom he
writes) were, even among the Gentiles themselves,
branded to a proverb.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_379">379</span></p>

<p>The topics, he chiefly insists upon, are
taken, not from nature, but the principles of
our holy religion, from the right and property,
which God hath in Christians. By virtue of
their profession, their bodies and souls are
appropriated to him. <span class="smcap">Therefore</span>, says he,
<i>glorify God in your body, and in your spirit,
which are God’s</i>.</p>

<p>To apprehend all the force of this conclusion,
it will be proper to look back to the arguments
themselves; to consider distinctly the substance
of them, and the manner in which they are
conducted.</p>

<p>This double attention will give us cause to
admire, not the logick only, but the address,
of the learned Apostle. I say, the <i>address</i>;
which the occasion required: for, notwithstanding
that no sin is more opposite to our
holy religion, and that therefore St. Paul, in
his epistles to the Gentile converts, gives it no
quarter, yet, as became the wisdom and sanctity
of his character, he forgets not of what, and
to whom, he writes.</p>

<p>The vice itself is of no easy reprehension:
not, for want of arguments against it, which
are innumerable and irresistible; but from the
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_380">380</span>
reverence which is due to one’s self and others.
An Apostle, especially, was to respect his own
dignity. He was, besides, neither to offend
the innocent, nor the guilty. Unhappily, these
last, who needed his plainest reproof, had more
than the delicacy of innocence about them, and
were, of all men, the readiest to take offence.
For so it is, the licentious of all times have
seared consciences, and tender apprehensions.
It alarms them to hear what they have no scruple
to commit.</p>

<p>The persons addressed were, especially, to
be considered. These were Corinthians: that
is, a rich commercial people, voluptuous and
dissolute. They were, besides, wits and reasoners,
rhetoricians and philosophers: for under
these characters they are represented to us.
And all these characters required the Apostle’s
attention. As a people addicted to pleasure,
and supported in the habits of it by abounding
wealth, they were to be awakened out of their
lethargy, by an earnest and vehement expostulation:
as pretending to be expert in the arts
of reasoning, they were to be convinced by
strict argument: and, as men of quick rhetorical
fancies, a reasoner would find his account
in presenting his argument to them through
some apt and lively image.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_381">381</span></p>

<p>Let us see, then, how the Apostle acquits
himself in these nice circumstances.</p>

<p>After observing that the sin he had warned
the Corinthians to avoid, was <i>a sin against
their own body</i>; that is, was an abuse and defilement
of it, he proceeds, “<i>What! know ye
not that your body is the temple of the Holy
Ghost, which is in you, which ye have of
God? And ye are not your own; for ye
are bought with a price; therefore, glorify
God in your body, and in your spirit, which
are God’s.</i>”</p>

<p>The address, we see, is poignant; the reasoning,
close; and the expression, oratorical.
The vehemence of his manner could not but
take their attention: his argumentation, as
being founded on Christian principles and ideas,
must be conclusive to the persons addressed;
and, as conveyed in remote and decent figures,
the delicacy of their imaginations is respected
by it.</p>

<p>The whole deserves to be opened and explained
at large. Such an explanation, will
be the best discourse I can frame on this
subject.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_382">382</span></p>

<p>I. First, then, the Apostle asks, <i>What!
know ye not that your body is the temple of
the Holy Ghost?</i>&mdash;This question refers to
that great Christian principle, that we live <i>in
the communion of the Holy Ghost</i><a id="FNanchor_171" href="#Footnote_171" class="fnanchor">171</a>; not, in
the sense in which we <i>all live and move and
have our being in God</i>; but in a special and
more exalted sense; the Gospel teaching, that
<i>God hath given to us Christians the Holy
Spirit</i><a id="FNanchor_172" href="#Footnote_172" class="fnanchor">172</a>, to be with us, and in us; to purify
and comfort us: that we are <i>baptized by this
spirit</i><a id="FNanchor_173" href="#Footnote_173" class="fnanchor">173</a>, sanctified, <i>sealed by it to the day of
redemption</i><a id="FNanchor_174" href="#Footnote_174" class="fnanchor">174</a>.</p>

<p>Now this being the case, the <i>body</i> of a Christian,
which the Holy Ghost inhabits and sanctifies
by his presence, is no longer to be
considered as a worthless fabrick, to be put to
sordid uses, but as the receptacle of God’s spirit,
as the place of his residence; in a word, as
his <small>TEMPLE</small> and sanctuary.</p>

<p>The figure, you see, presents an idea the
most august and venerable. It carried this impression
with it both to the Gentile and Jewish
Christians. It did so to the Gentiles, whose
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_383">383</span>
superstitious reverence for their idol-temples is
well known: and though many an abominable
rite was done in them, yet the nature of the
Deity, occupying this temple, which was the
Holy Ghost, put an infinite difference between
him and their impure deities, the impurest of
which had engrossed the Corinthian worship.
So that this contrast of the object could not
but raise their ideas, and impress the reverence,
which the Apostle would excite in them for
such a temple, with full effect on their minds<a id="FNanchor_175" href="#Footnote_175" class="fnanchor">175</a>.
And then to Jews, the allusion must be singularly
striking: for their supreme pride and
boast was, the temple at Jerusalem, <i>the tabernacle
of the most high, dwelling between the
cherubims, and the place of the habitation of
God’s glory</i><a id="FNanchor_176" href="#Footnote_176" class="fnanchor">176</a>.</p>

<p>To both Jew and Gentile, the notion of a temple
implied these two things, 1. That the divinity
was in a more especial manner present in it:
and, 2. That it was a place peculiarly set apart
for his service. Whence the effect of this representation
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_384">384</span>
would be, That the body, having
the Holy Spirit lodged within it, was to be
kept pure and clean for this c&aelig;lestial inhabitant:
and, as being dedicated to his own
use, it was not to be prophaned by any indecencies,
much less by a gross sin, which is,
emphatically, <i>a sin against the body</i>, and by
heathens themselves accounted a <i>pollution</i><a id="FNanchor_177" href="#Footnote_177" class="fnanchor">177</a>
of it.</p>

<p>Further; the Apostle does not leave the Corinthians
to collect all this from the image
presented to them, but asserts it expressly;
<i>What! know ye not, that your body is the
temple of the Holy Ghost</i>, <small>WHICH IS IN YOU</small>:
Implying, that what they would naturally
infer from their idea of a temple, was true, in
fact, <i>that the Holy Ghost was in them</i>; that
his actual occupancy and possession of their
bodies appropriated the use of them to himself,
and excluded all sordid practices in them, as
prophane and <small>SACRILEGIOUS</small>. Nay, he further
adds; <small>AND WHICH</small> [Holy Ghost] <small>YE HAVE OF
GOD</small>: ye have received this adorable spirit,
<i>which is in you</i>, from God himself; and so
are obliged to entertain this heavenly guest
with all sanctity and reverence; not only for
his own sake, and for the honour he does you
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_385">385</span>
in dwelling in you, but for his sake who sent
him, and from whose hands ye have received
him.</p>

<p>This first argument, then, against the sin
of uncleanness, divested of its figure, stands
thus. In consequence of your Christian profession,
ye must acknowledge, that the Holy
Spirit is given to inform and consecrate your
mortal bodies; that he is actually <i>within</i> you;
and that he dwells and operates there, by
the gracious appointment and commission of
God. Ye are therefore to consider your body
as the place of his more especial habitation;
and as such, are bound to preserve it in such
purity, as the nature of so sacred a presence
demands.</p>

<p>This is the clear, obvious, and conclusive
argument; liable to no objection, or even
cavil, from a professor of Christianity. The
figure of a temple is only employed to raise
our apprehensions, and to convey the conclusion
with more force and energy to our minds.
But now,</p>

<p>II. The Apostle proceeds to another and
distinct consideration, and shews that the
Holy Ghost is not only the actual <i>occupier and
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_386">386</span>
possessor</i> of the body of Christians, whom the
Almighty had, as it were, forced upon them,
and by his sovereign authority enjoined them
to receive, but that he was the true and rightful
<small>PROPRIETOR</small> of it. <span class="smcap">Ye are not your own</span>,
continues the Apostle; not merely, as “God
hath, by his spirit, taken possession of you,
and sealed you up, as his own proper
goods<a id="FNanchor_178" href="#Footnote_178" class="fnanchor">178</a>;”  but as he hath redeemed and purchased
you, as he hath done that, by which
the <i>property</i> ye might before seem to have in
your bodies, is actually made over and consigned
to him. <span class="smcap">For ye are bought with a
price.</span></p>

<p>The expression is, again, figurative; and
refers to the notions and usages that obtained
among the heathens, the Greeks especially, in
regard to <i>personal slavery</i>. As passionate
admirers, as they were, of liberty, every government,
even the most republican, abounded
in slaves; every family had its share of them.
The purchase of them, as of brute beasts, was
a considerable part of their traffick. Men and
women were bought and sold publicly in their
markets: the wealth of states and of individuals,
in great measure, consisted in them.
Thus was human nature degraded by the
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_387">387</span>
Heathen, and I wish it might be said, by
heathens only. But my present concern is
with them. It is too sad a truth that human
creatures sold themselves, or were sold by their
masters, to be employed in the basest services,
even those of luxury and of lust. This infamous
practice was common through all Greece,
but was more especially a chief branch of the
Corinthian commerce. Their city was the
head-quarters of prostitution, and the great
market for the supply of it.</p>

<p>Now to this practice the Apostle alludes,
but in such a manner as implies the severest
reproof of it.  His remonstrance is to this
effect. “Ye Corinthians, in your former
pagan state, made no scruple to consider
your slaves as your own absolute property.
Your pretence was, that <i>ye had bought them
with a price</i>; that is, with a piece of money,
which could be no equivalent for the natural
inestimable liberty and dignity of a fellow-creature;
yet ye claimed to yourselves their
entire, unreserved service; and often condemned
them to the vilest and most ignominious.</p>

<p>“To turn now, says the Apostle, from
these horrors to a fairer scene; for I take advantage
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_388">388</span>
only of your ideas in this matter, to
lead you to just notions of your present
Christian condition. God, the sole rightful
proprietor of the persons of men, left you
in the state of nature, to the enjoyment of
your own liberty, with no other restraint
upon it than what was necessary to preserve
so great a blessing, the restraint of reason.
Now, indeed, but still for your own infinite
benefit, he claims a stricter property in you,
and demands your more peculiar service.
He first made you men, but now Christians.
Still he condescends to proceed with you in
your own way, and according to your own
ideas of right and justice. <i>He has bought
you with a price</i>: but, merciful heaven,
with <i>what</i> price? With that, which exceeds
all value and estimation, with the <small>BLOOD</small> of
his only begotten Son; the least drop of
which is of more virtue than all your hecatombs,
and more precious than the treasures
of the East. And for what was this price
paid?  Not to enslave, much less to insult
and corrupt you (as ye wickedly served one
another), but to <i>redeem you into the glorious
liberty of the sons of God</i>: It was,
to restore you from death to life, from servitude
to freedom, from corruption to holiness,
<i>to make to himself a peculiar people</i>,
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_389">389</span>
<i>zealous of good works</i>. Say, then, Is this
ransom an equivalent for the purchase of
you? And is the end for which ye are purchased,
such as ye dare complain of, or have
reason to refuse? Henceforth, then, <i>ye are
not your own</i>: the property of your souls
and bodies is freely, justly, equitably, with
immense benefit to yourselves, and unspeakable
mercy on the part of the purchaser,
transferred to God. Your whole and best
service is due to him, of strict right: what
he demands of you is to serve him in all
virtue and godliness of living, and particularly
to respect and reverence yourselves; in
a word, not to pollute yourselves with forbidden
lusts. In this way ye are required
to serve your new lord and master, who has
the goodness to regard such service, as an
honour and glory to himself. <i>Therefore</i>,
do your part inviolably and conscientiously,
<i>Glorify God in your body, and in your spirit,
which are God’s</i>.”</p>

<p>This is the the Apostle’s idea, when drawn
out and explained at large. The reasoning is
decisive, as in the former case: and the expression
admirably adapted to the circumstances
of the persons addressed. In plain
words, the argument is this. God has provided,
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_390">390</span>
by the sacrifice of the death of Christ,
for your redemption from all iniquity, both
the service, and the wages of it. By your
profession of Christianity, and free acceptance
of this inestimable benefit, freely offered to
you, ye are become in a more especial manner,
his servants: ye are bound, therefore, by every
motive of duty and self-interest to preserve
yourselves in all that purity of mind and body,
which his laws require of you; and for the
sake of which ye were taken into this nearer
relation to himself. The figure of being <i>bought
with a price</i>, was at once the most natural
cover of this reasoning, as addressed to the
Corinthian Christians; and the most poignant
reproof of their country’s inhuman practice of
trafficking in the bodies and souls of men.</p>

<p>The force both of the <i>figure</i> and the <i>reasoning</i>
is apparently much weakened by this
minute comment upon the Apostle’s words,
which yet seemed necessary to make them understood.</p>

<p>To draw to a point, then, the substance of
what has been said, and to conclude.</p>

<p>The vice which the Apostle had been arguing
against, is condemned by natural reason. But
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_391">391</span>
Christians are bound by additional and peculiar
considerations to abstain from it. <span class="smcap">Ye</span>,
says the Apostle, <small>ARE THE TEMPLES OF THE
HOLY GHOST</small>. To defile yourselves with the
sins of uncleanness is, then, to desecrate
those bodies which the Holy Ghost sanctifies
by his presence. It is, in the emphatic language
of scripture, <i>to grieve the holy Spirit</i>,
and <i>to do despite to the spirit of grace</i>. It
is like, nay it is infinitely worse, than polluting
the sanctuary: an abomination, which nature
itself teaches all men to avoid and execrate.
It is, in the highest sense of the words,
<small>PROPHANENESS</small>, <small>IMPIETY</small>, <small>SACRILEGE</small>.</p>

<p>Again; <small>YE ARE BOUGHT WITH A PRICE</small>: ye
are not your own, but God’s; having been
ransomed by him, your souls and bodies, when
both were lost, through the death of his Son:
a price, of so immense, so inestimable a value,
that worlds are not equal to it. To dispose of
yourselves, then, in a way which he forbids
and abhors: to corrupt by your impurities that
which belongs to God, which is his right and
property; to serve your lusts, when ye are
redeemed at such a price to serve God only,
through Jesus Christ; is an outrage which we
poorly express, when language affords no other
names for it, than those of <small>INGRATITUDE</small>, <small>INFIDELITY</small>,
<small>INJUSTICE</small>.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_392">392</span></p>

<p>Whatever excuses a poor heathen might
alledge to palliate this sin, we Christians have
none to offer. He, <i>who knew not God</i>, might
be led by his pride, by his passions, and even
by his religion, to conclude (as the idolatrous
Corinthians seem to have done) that <i>his own
body was for fornication</i>; or, at most, that
he was only accountable to <i>his own soul</i> (if his
philosophy would give him leave to think he
had one) for the misuse of it. But this language
is now out of date. The souls and
bodies of us Christians are not ours, but the
<i>Lord’s</i>: they are <i>occupied</i> by his spirit, and
<i>appropriated</i> to his service. The conclusion
follows, and cannot be inforced in stronger
terms than those of the text: <span class="smcap">therefore
glorify God in your body, and in your
spirit, which are God’s</span>.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_393">393</span></p>

<h2 id="SERMON_XXVII">SERMON XXVII.<br />

<span class="medium">PREACHED MARCH 13, 1774.</span></h2>

<h3><span class="smcap">Job</span> xxiii. 26.</h3>

<p><i>Thou writest bitter things against me, and
makest me to possess the iniquities of my
youth.</i></p>

<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">This</span> is one of the complaints which Job
makes in his expostulations with the Almighty.
He thought it hard measure that he should
suffer, now in his riper years, for the iniquities
of his youth. He could charge himself with
no other; and therefore he hoped that these
had been forgotten.</p>

<p>Job is all along represented as an eminently
virtuous person; so that the iniquities of his
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_394">394</span>
youth might not have been numerous or
considerable: otherwise, he would not have
thought it strange, that he was <i>made to possess</i>
his sins, long after they had been committed.
Our experience is, in this respect, so constant
and uniform, that there is no room for surprize
or expostulation. All those who have passed
their youth in sin and folly, may with reason
express a very strong resentment against themselves;
but have no ground of complaint against
God, when they cry out, in the anguish of
their souls: <i>Thou writest bitter things against
me, and makest me to possess the iniquities of
my youth</i>.</p>

<p>The words are peculiarly strong and energetic;
and may be considered distinctly from
the case of Job, as expressing this general proposition;
“That, in the order of things, an
ill-spent youth derives many lasting evils on
the subsequent periods of life.” An alarming
truth! which cannot be too much considered,
and should especially be set before the young
and unexperienced, in the strongest light.</p>

<p>The sins of <i>youth</i>, as distinguished from
those of riper years, are chiefly such as are occasioned
by an immoderate, or an irregular
pursuit of pleasure; into which we are too easily
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_395">395</span>
carried in that careless part of life; and the ill
effects of which are rarely apprehended by us,
till they are severely felt.</p>

<p>Now, it may be said of us, that we are made
to <small>POSSESS</small> these sins, “When <i>we continue
under the constant sense and unrepented guilt
of them</i>:” “When <i>we labour under tyrannous
habits, which they have produced</i>:” And,
“when <i>we groan under afflictions of various
kinds, which they have entailed upon us</i>.”</p>

<p>In these three respects, I mean to shew how
<i>bitter those things are, which God writeth</i>,
that is, decreeth in his justice, <i>against the
iniquities of our youth</i>.</p>

<p>I. The <i>first</i>, and bitterest effect of this indulgence
in vicious pleasure, is the guilt and
consequent remorse of conscience, we derive
from it.</p>

<p>When the young mind has been tinctured
in any degree with the principles of modesty
and virtue, it is with reluctance and much apprehension,
that it first ventures on the transgression
of known duty. But the vivacity and
thoughtless gaiety of that early season, encouraged
by the hopes of new pleasure, and
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_396">396</span>
sollicited, as it commonly happens, by ill examples,
is at length tempted to make the fatal
experiment; by which guilt is contracted, and
the sting of guilt first known. The ingenuous
mind reflects with shame and compunction on
this miscarriage but the passion revives; the
temptation returns, and prevails a second time,
and a third; still with growing guilt, but unhappily
with something less horror; yet enough
to admonish the offender of his fault, and to
embitter his enjoyments.</p>

<p>As no instant mischief, perhaps, is felt from
this indulgence, but the pain of remorse, he,
by degrees, imputes this effect to an over-timorous
apprehension, to his too delicate self-esteem,
or to the prejudice of education. He
next confirms himself in these sentiments, by
observing the practice of the world, by listening
to the libertine talk of his companions, and by
forming, perhaps, a sort of system to himself,
by which he pretends to vindicate his own conduct:
till, at length, his shame and his fears
subside; he grows intrepid in vice, and riots in
all the intemperance to which youth invites,
and high spirits transport him.</p>

<p>In this delirious state he continues for some
time. But presently the scene changes. Although
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_397">397</span>
the habit continue, the enjoyment is
not the same: the keenness of appetite abates,
and the cares of life succeed to this run of
pleasure.</p>

<p>But neither the cares nor the pleasures of life
can now keep him from reflexion. He cannot
help giving way, at times, to a serious turn of
thought; and some unwelcome event or other
will strike in to promote it. Either the loss
of a friend makes him grave; or a fit of illness
sinks his spirits; or it may be sufficient,
that the companions of his idle hours are withdrawn,
and that he is left to himself in longer
intervals than he would chuse, of solitude and
recollection.</p>

<p>By some or other of these means <small>CONSCIENCE</small>
revives in him, and with a quick resentment
of the outrage she has suffered. Attempts
to suppress her indignant reproaches,
are no longer effectual: she <i>will</i> be heared;
and her voice carries terror and consternation
with it.</p>

<p>“She upbraids him, first, with his loss of
virtue, and of that which died with it, her
own favour and approbation. She then sets
before him the indignity of having renounced
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_398">398</span>
all self-command, and of having served ingloriously
under every idle, every sordid appetite.
She next rises in her remonstrance;
represents to him the baseness of having attempted
unsuspecting innocence; the cruelty
of having alarmed, perhaps destroyed, the
honour of deserving families; the fraud, the
perfidy, the perjury, he has possibly committed
in carrying on his iniquitous purposes.
The mischiefs he has done to others are perhaps
not to be repaired; and his own personal
crimes remain to be accounted for; and, if at
all, can only be expiated by the bitterest repentance.
And what then, concludes this severe
monitor in the awful words of the Apostle,
<i>What fruit had ye then in those things whereof
ye are now ashamed? for the end of those
things is death</i><a id="FNanchor_179" href="#Footnote_179" class="fnanchor">179</a>.”</p>

<p>Suppose now this remonstrance to take effect,
and that the sinner is at length (for what I
have here represented in few words, takes much
time in doing; but suppose, I say, that the
sinner is at length) wrought upon by this remonstrance
to entertain some serious thoughts
of amendment, still the consciousness of his
ill desert will attend him through every stage
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_399">399</span>
of life, and corrupt the sincerity of all his enjoyments;
while he knows not what will be
the issue of his crimes, or whether, indeed,
he shall ever be able truly and effectually to
repent of them. For we cannot get quit of our
sins, the moment we resolve to do so: But, as
I proposed to shew,</p>

<p>II. <i>In the second place</i>, we are still made
to possess the iniquities of our youth, <i>while we
labour under any remains of those tyrannous
habits, which they have produced in us</i>.</p>

<p>There is scarce an object of greater compassion,
than the man who is duly sensible of his
past misconduct, earnestly repents of it, and
strives to reform it, but yet is continually
drawn back into his former miscarriages, by
the very habit of having so frequently fallen
into them. Such a man’s life is a perpetual
scene of contradiction; a discordant mixture
of good resolutions, and weak performances;
of virtuous purposes, and shameful relapses;
in a word, of sin and sorrow. And, were he
only to consult his present ease, an uninterrupted
course of vice might almost seem preferable
to this intermitting state of virtue. But
the misery of this condition comes from himself,
and must be endured, for the sake of
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_400">400</span>
avoiding, if it may be, one that is much worse.
In the mean time, he feels most sensibly what
it is to <i>possess</i> the iniquities of his youth.
The temptation, perhaps, to persevere in
them, is not great; he condemns, and laments
his own weakness. Still the habit prevails,
and his repentance, though constantly renewed,
is unable to disengage him from the
power of it.</p>

<p>Thus he struggles with himself, perhaps for
many years, perhaps for a great part of his life;
and in all that time is distracted by the very
inconsistency of his own conduct, and tortured
by the bitterest pains of compunction and self-abhorrence.</p>

<p>But let it be supposed, that the grace of God
at length prevails over the tyranny of his inveterate
habits; that his repentance is efficacious,
and his virtue established. Yet the
memory of his former weakness fills him with
fears and apprehensions: he finds his mind
weakened, as well as polluted, by his past
sins; he has to strive against the returning
influence of them; and thus, when penitence
and tears have washed away his guilt, he still
thinks himself insecure, and trembles at the
possible danger of being involved again in it.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_401">401</span></p>

<p>Add to all this, the compunction which such
a man feels, when he is obliged to discountenance
in others, perhaps, by his station, to
punish those crimes in which he had so long
and so freely indulged himself: and how uneasy
the very discharge of his duty is thus rendered
to him.</p>

<p>To say all upon this head: his acquired
habits, if not corrected in due time, may push
him into crimes the most atrocious and
shocking; and, if subdued at length, will
agitate his mind with long dissatisfaction and
disquiet. Repentance, if it comes at all, will
come late; and will never reinstate him fully
in the serenity and composure of his lost innocence.
But,</p>

<p>III. Lastly, when all this is done (and
more to do is not in our power) we may still
possess the iniquities of our youth, in another
sense, I mean, <i>when we groan under the temporal
afflictions of many kinds, which they
entail upon us</i>.</p>

<p>So close do these sad <i>possessions</i> cleave to
us, and so difficult it is, contrary to what we
observe of all other possessions, to divest ourselves
of them!
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_402">402</span></p>

<p>When <small>PLEASURE</small> first spreads its share for
the young voluptuary, how little did he suspect
the malignity of its nature; and that under
so enchanting an appearance, it was preparing
for him pains and diseases, declining health,
an early old-age, perhaps poverty, infamy,
and irreparable ruin? Yet some, or all of
these calamities may oppress him, when the
pleasure is renounced, and the sin forsaken.</p>

<p>Youth and health are with difficulty made
to comprehend how frail a machine the human
body is, and how easily impaired by excesses.
But effects will follow their causes; and intemperate
pleasure is sure to be succeeded by
long pains, for which there is no prevention,
and for the most part, no remedy. Hence it
is that life is shortened; and, while it lasts, is
full of languor, disease, and suffering. If by
living <i>fast</i>, as men call it, they only abridged
the duration of their pleasures, their folly
might seem tolerable. But the case is much
worse: they treasure up to themselves actual
sufferings, from disorders which have no cure,
as well as no name. And not unfrequently it
happens, according to the strong expression in
the book of Job, that <i>a man’s bones are full of
the sin of his youth, till they lie down with
him in the grave</i><a id="FNanchor_180" href="#Footnote_180" class="fnanchor">180</a>.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_403">403</span></p>

<p>Or, if health continue, his <i>fortune</i> suffers;
it being an observation as old as Solomon, and
confirmed by constant experience ever since,
that <i>he who loveth pleasure, shall not be rich</i><a id="FNanchor_181" href="#Footnote_181" class="fnanchor">181</a>.
His paternal inheritance is perhaps wasted, or
much reduced. And his careless youth has
lost the opportunity of those improvements
which should enable him to repair it. Or, if
the abundant provision of wiser ancestors secure
him from this mischance; or, if he has
had the discretion to mix some industry and
œconomy with his vices, still his good name is
blasted, and so tender a plant as this is not
easily restored to health and vigour. For it is
a mistake to think that intemperance leaves no
lasting disgrace behind it. The contrary is
seen every day; and the crimes which we
commit in the mad pursuit of pleasure, bring
a dishonour with them, which no age can
wholly outlive, and no virtue can repair<a id="FNanchor_182" href="#Footnote_182" class="fnanchor">182</a>. It
stuck close to C&aelig;sar himself in his highest
fortune: All his laurels could neither hide his
<i>baldness</i> from the observation of men, nor the
infamy of that commerce by which it had been
occasioned<a id="FNanchor_183" href="#Footnote_183" class="fnanchor">183</a>.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_404">404</span></p>

<p>All this, it may be thought, is very hard.
But such is the fact, and such the order of
God’s providence. We have not the making of
this system: it is made to our hands by him
who ordereth all things for the best, how
grievous soever his dispensations may sometimes
appear to us. Our duty, and our wisdom
is to reflect what that system is, and to
conform ourselves to it.</p>

<p>If a young man, on his entrance into life,
could be made duly sensible of the dreadful
evils, which, in the very constitution of things,
flow from vice, there is scarcely any temptation
that could prevail over his virtue. But
his levity and inexperience expose him to
these evils: he thinks nothing of them till
they arrive, and then there is no escape from
them.</p>

<p>To conclude: if any thing can rescue unwary
youth out of the hands of their own folly,
it must be such a train of reflection as the text
offers to us. Let it sink deep into their minds,
that there are indeed <i>bitter things</i> decreed
against the iniquities of that early age; that a
thousand temporal evils spring from that
source; that vicious habits are in themselves
vexatious and tormenting; and, that, uncorrected,
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_405">405</span>
and unrepented of, they fill the mind
with inutterable remorse and horror.</p>

<p>When the sins of youth are seen in this
light, it is not by giving them the soft name
of infirmities, or by cloathing them with ideas
of pleasure, that we shall be able to reconcile
the mind to them. Such thin disguises will
not conceal their true forms and natures from
us. We shall still take them for what indeed
they are, for sorcerers and assassins, the enchanters
of our reason and the murderers of
our peace.</p>

<p>The sum of all is comprised in that memorable
advice of the Psalmist, so often quoted
in this place (and, for once, let it have its
effect upon us): <i>Keep innocency, and take
heed to the thing that is right, for that shall
bring a man peace at the last</i><a id="FNanchor_184" href="#Footnote_184" class="fnanchor">184</a>.</p>

<p>Or, if the scorner will not listen to this
advice, it only remains to leave him to his
own sad experience; but not till we have
made one charitable effort more to provoke
his attention by the caustic apostrophe of the
wise man: <i>Rejoice, O young man, in thy</i>
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_406">406</span>
<i>youth, and let thy heart cheer thee in the
days of thy youth, and walk in the ways of
thy heart, and in the sight of thine eyes:
but</i> <small>KNOW THOU</small>, <i>that, for all these things,
God will bring thee into judgement</i><a id="FNanchor_185" href="#Footnote_185" class="fnanchor">185</a>.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_407">407</span></p>

<h2 id="SERMON_XXVIII">SERMON XXVIII.<br />

<span class="medium">PREACHED MAY 28, 1769.</span></h2>

<h3><span class="smcap">Ecclesiastes</span> vii. 21, 22.</h3>

<p><i>Take no heed unto all words that are spoken,
lest thou hear thy servant curse thee. For
oftentimes, also, thine own heart knoweth,
that thou thyself, likewise, hast cursed
others.</i></p>

<p class="drop"><span class="uppercase">The</span> royal author of this book has been
much and justly celebrated for his wise aphorisms
and precepts on the conduct of human
life. Among others of this sort, the text may
deserve to be had in reverence; which, though
simply and familiarly expressed, could only
be the reflexion of a man who had great
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_408">408</span>
experience of the world, and had studied with
care the secret workings of his own mind.</p>

<p>The purpose of it is, to disgrace and discountenance
that <small>ANXIOUS CURIOSITY</small> (the result
of our vanity, and a misguided self-love) which
prompts us to inquire into the sentiments and
opinions of other persons concerning us, and
to give ourselves no rest till we understand
what, in their private and casual conversations,
they say of us.</p>

<p>“This curious disposition, says the preacher,
is by all means to be repressed, as the indulgence
of it is both <small>FOOLISH</small> and <small>UNJUST</small>;
as it not only serves to embitter your own lives
by the unwelcome discoveries ye are most
likely to make; but at the same time to convict
your own consciences of much iniquity; since,
upon reflexion, ye will find that ye have,
yourselves, been guilty at some unguarded
hour or other, of the same malignity or flippancy
towards other men.”</p>

<p>In these two considerations is comprised
whatever can be said to discredit this vice: the
<i>one</i>, you see, taken from the preacher’s knowledge
of human life; the <i>other</i>, from his intimate
acquaintance with the secret depravity
and corruption of the human heart.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_409">409</span></p>

<p>Permit me, then, to enlarge on these two
topics; and, by that means, to open to you
more distinctly the <small>WISDOM</small>, and the <small>EQUITY</small>
of that conduct, which is here recommended
to us, of <i>not giving a sollicitous attention to
the frivolous and unweighed censures of other
men</i>.</p>

<p>I. <i>Take no heed</i>, says the preacher, <i>to all
words that are spoken</i>, <small>LEST THOU HEAR THY
SERVANT CURSE THEE</small>. This is the <small>FIRST</small> reason
which he assigns for his advice.</p>

<p>The force of it will be clearly apprehended,
if we reflect (as the observing author of the
text had certainly done) that nothing is more
flippant, nothing more unreasonably and unaccountably
petulant, than the tongue of man.</p>

<p>It is so little under the controul, I do not
say of candour, or of good-nature, but of common
prudence, and of common justice, that
it moves, as it were, with the slightest breath
of rumour; nay, as if a tendency to speak ill
of others were instinctive to it, it waits many
times for no cause from without, but is prompted
as we may say, by its own restlessness and
volubility to attack the characters of those who
chance to be the subject of discourse. Without
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_410">410</span>
provocation, without malice, without so
much as intentional ill-will, it echoes the voice
of the present company; vibrates with the
prevailing tone of conversation; or takes occasion
from the slightest occurrence, from
some idle conceit that strikes the fancy, from
the impulse of a sudden and half-formed suggestion,
that stirs within us, to exercise its
activity in a careless censure of other men.</p>

<p>Nay, what is more to be lamented, the
sagacious observer of mankind will find reason
to conclude, that no zeal for our interests, no
kindness for our persons, shall at all times restrain
this unruly member, the tongue, from
taking unwelcome freedoms with us. The
dearest friend we have, shall at some unlucky
moment be seduced by an affectation of wit, by
a start of humour, by a flow of spirits, by a
sudden surmise, or indisposition, by any thing,
in short, to let fall such things of us, as have
some degree of sharpness in them, and would
give us pain, if they were officiously reported
to us.</p>

<p>This appears to have been the sentiment of
the wise preacher in the text. Avoid, says he,
this impertinent curiosity, <i>lest thou hear thy
servant curse thee</i>; lest the very persons that
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_411">411</span>
live under thy roof and are most obliged to
thee, who are reasonably presumed to have the
warmest concern for thy honour and interest,
and on whose fidelity and gratitude the security
and comfort of thy whole life more immediately
depends, lest even these be found to make free
with thy character. For there is a time, when
even <i>these</i> may be carried to speak undutifully
and disrespectfully of thee.</p>

<p>And would any man wish to make this discovery
of those, who are esteemed to be, and,
notwithstanding these occasional freedoms,
perhaps <i>are</i>, his true servants and affectionate
friends?</p>

<p>For think not, when this unlucky discovery
is made, that the offended party will treat it
with neglect, or be in a condition to consider
it with those allowances, that, in reason and
equity, may be required of him. No such
thing: It will appear to him in the light of a
heinous and unpardonable indignity; it will
occasion warm resentments, and not only fill
his mind with present disquiet, but most probably
provoke him to severe expostulations;
the usual fruit of which is, to make a deliberate
and active enemy of him, who was, before,
only an incautious and indiscreet friend: at the
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_412">412</span>
best, it will engender I know not what uneasy
jealousies and black suspicions; which will
mislead his judgment on many occasions; and
inspire an anxious distrust, not of the faulty
person himself only, but of others, who stand
in the same relation to him, and, perhaps, of all
mankind.</p>

<p>These several ill effects may be supposed, as
I said, to flow from the discovery: and it will
be useful to set the malignity of <i>each</i> in its true
and proper light.</p>

<p>1. <i>First</i>, then, consider that a likely, or rather
infallible effect of this discovery, is, <i>to
fire the mind with quick and passionate resentments</i>.
And what is it to be in this state,
but to lose the enjoyment of ourselves; to have
the relish of every thing, we possess, embittered
by pungent reflexions on the perfidy and baseness
of those, with whom we live, and of
whom it is our happiness to think well; to
have the repose of our lives disturbed by the
most painful of all sensations, that of supposed
injury from our very friends? And for what
is this wretchedness, this misery, encountered?
For the idleness of an unweighed discourse;
for something, which, if kept secret from us,
had been perfectly insignificant; for a discourtesy,
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_413">413</span>
which meant nothing and tended to
nothing; for a word, which came from the
tongue, rather than the heart; or, if the heart
had any share in producing it, was recalled
perhaps, at least forgotten, in the moment it
was spoken.  And can it be worth while to indulge
a curiosity which leads to such torment,
when the object of our inquiry is itself so frivolous,
as well as the concern we have in it?</p>

<p>2. <i>Another</i> mischief attending the gratification
of this impertinent curiosity, is, That the
unwelcome discoveries we make, <i>naturally
lead to peevish complaints and severe expostulations</i>;
the effect of which is, not only
to continue and inflame the sense of the injury
already received, but to draw fresh and greater
indignities on ourselves, to push the offending
party on extremes, and compell him, almost,
whether he will or no, to open acts of hostility
against us. The former ill treatment
of us, whatever it might be, was perhaps
forgotten; at least it had hitherto gone no
further than words, and, while it was, or was
supposed to be, undiscovered, there was no
thought of repeating the provocation, and there
was time and opportunity left for repenting of
it, and for recovering a just sense of violated
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_414">414</span>
duty. But when the offence is understood to
be no longer a secret, the discovery provokes
fresh offences. Either pride puts the aggressor
on justifying what he has done; or the shame
of conviction, and the despair of pardon, turns
indifference into hate; ready to break out into
all sorts of ill offices, and the readier, because
the strong resentment of so slight a matter,
as a careless expression, is itself, in turn, accounted
an atrocious injury. And thus a small
discourtesy, which, if unnoticed, had presently
died away, shall grow and spread into a rooted
<i>ill-will</i>, productive of gross reciprocal hostilities,
and permanent as life itself.</p>

<p>It is on this account that wise men have
always thought it better to connive at moderate
injuries, than, by an open resentment of
them, to provoke greater: and nothing is
mentioned so much to the honour of a noble
Roman<a id="FNanchor_186" href="#Footnote_186" class="fnanchor">186</a>, as that, when he had the papers of
an enemy in his hands (which would certainly
have discovered the disaffection of many persons
towards the republic and himself) he destroyed
them all, and prudently, as well as generously,
resolved to know nothing of what they contained.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_415">415</span>
And this conduct, which was thought
so becoming a great man in public life, is unquestionably
(on the same principle of prudence
and magnanimity, to say nothing of higher
motives) the duty and concern of every private
man.</p>

<p>3. But, <i>lastly</i>, supposing the resentment
conceived on the discovery of an ungrateful
secret, should not break out into overt acts of
hatred and revenge, still the matter would not
be much mended. For, <i>it would surely breed
a thousand uneasy suspicions</i>, which would
prey on the hurt mind; and do irreparable
injury to the moral character, as well as embitter
the whole life of him who was unhappily
conscious to them.</p>

<p>The experience of such neglect or infidelity
in those whom we had hitherto loved and
trusted, and from whom we had expected a
suitable return of trust and love, would infallibly
sour the temper, and create a constant apprehension
of future unkindness. It would efface
the native candour of the mind, and bring a
cloud of jealousy over it; which would darken
our views of human life. It would make us
cold, and gloomy,  and reserved; indifferent
to those who deserved best of us, and unapt
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_416">416</span>
for the offices of society and friendship. The
more we suppressed these sentiments, the more
would they fester and rankle within us; till
the mind became all over tenderness and sensibility,
and felt equal pain from its own groundless
surmises, as from real substantial injuries.
In a word, we should have no relish of conversation,
no sincere enjoyment of any thing,
we should only be miserable <i>in</i>, and <i>from</i>
ourselves.</p>

<p>And is this a condition to be officiously
courted, and sought after? Or rather, could
we suffer more from the malice of our bitterest
enemy, than we are ready to do from our own
anxious curiosity to pry into the infirmities of
our friends?</p>

<p><span class="smcap">Hitherto</span> I have insisted on the danger of
<i>giving heed to all words that are spoken</i>, <small>LEST
THOU HEAR THY SERVANT CURSE THEE</small>; in other
words, on the <small>FOLLY</small> of taking pains to make
a discovery, which may prove unwelcome in
itself, and dreadful in the consequent evils it
may derive upon us.</p>

<p>II. It now remains that I say one word on
the <small>INJUSTICE</small>, and want of equity, which appears
in this practice. <span class="smcap">For oftentimes also</span>
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_417">417</span>
<span class="smcap">thine own heart knoweth, that thou thyself,
likewise, hast cursed others.</span></p>

<p>And as in the former case the preacher drew
his remonstrance from his knowledge of the
world; so in this, he reasons from his intimate
knowledge of the human heart.</p>

<p>Let the friendliest, the best man living,
explore his own conscience, and then let him
tell us, or rather let him tell himself, if he
can, that he has never offended in the instance
here given. I suppose, on a strict
inquiry, he will certainly call to mind some
peevish sentiment, some negligent censure,
some sharp reflection, which, at times, hath
escaped him, even in regard to his <i>second
self</i>, a bosom friend. Either he took something
wrong, and some suspicious circumstance
misled him; or, he was out of health
and spirits; or, he was ruffled by some ungrateful
accident; or, he had forgotten himself
in an hour of levity; or a splenetic
moment had surprised him. Some or other
of these causes, he will find, had betrayed
him into a sudden warmth and asperity of
expression, which he is now ashamed and
sorry for, and hath long since retracted and
condemned.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_418">418</span></p>

<p><i>Still further</i>, at the very time when this
infirmity overtook him, he had no purposed
unfriendliness, no resolved disaffection towards
the person he allowed himself to be thus free
with. His tongue indeed had offended, but
his heart had scarce consented to the offence.
The next day, the next hour, perhaps, he
would gladly have done all service, possibly he
would not have declined to hazard his life, for
this abused friend.</p>

<p>I appeal, as the wise author of the text
does, to yourselves, to the inmost recollection
of your own thoughts, if ye do not know
and feel that this which I have described hath
sometimes been your own case. And what
then is the inference from this self-conviction?
Certainly, that ye ought in common justice,
to restrain your inclination of prying into the
unguarded moments of other men. If your
best friends have not escaped your flippancy,
where is the equity of demanding more reserve
and caution towards yourself from them?
Without doubt the proper rule is to suppose,
and to forgive, these mutual indiscretions,
which we are all ready to commit towards
each other. We should lay no stress on these
casual discourtesies; we should not desire to
be made acquainted with them; we should
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_419">419</span>
dismiss them, if some officious whisperer
bring the information to us, with indifference
and neglect. To do otherwise is not only to
vex and disquiet ourselves for trifles: It is to be
unfair, uncandid, and <i>unjust</i>, in our dealings
with others; it is to convict ourselves of partiality
and hypocrisy, <i>For thine own heart
knoweth, that thou thyself likewise hast done
the same thing</i>.</p>

<p>Ye have now, then, before you the substance
of those considerations which the text
offers, for the prevention of that idle and
hurtful curiosity of looking into the secret dispositions
and discourses of other men. Ye
see how foolish, how dangerous, how iniquitous
it is, <i>to give heed to all words that are
spoken</i>.</p>

<p>It becomes a man indeed to lay a severe
check and restraint on his own tongue. Far
better would it be, if all men did so. But
they who know themselves and others, will
not much expect this degree of self-government,
will not, if they be wise, be much scandalized
at the want of it; since they know the observance
of it is so difficult and sublime a virtue;
since they know that nothing less than extraordinary
wisdom can, at all times, prevent the
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_420">420</span>
tongue of man from running into excesses;
since they are even told by an Apostle, <i>That
if any man offend not in word, the same is a
perfect man</i><a id="FNanchor_187" href="#Footnote_187" class="fnanchor">187</a>.</p>

<p>Let us then allow for what we cannot well
help. And let this consideration come in aid
of the others, employed in the text, to expell
an inveterate folly, which prompts us to lay
more stress upon words, than such frivolous
and fugitive things deserve. Let us regard
them, for the most part, but as the shaking of
a leaf, or the murmur of the idle air: they
rarely merit our notice, and attention, more:
or, when they do, we should find it better to
indulge our <i>charity</i>, than our curiosity; I mean,
to <i>believe well of others</i>, as long as we can,
rather than be at the pains of an anxious inquiry
for a pretence to <i>think ill</i> of them.</p>

<h3>THE END OF THE SIXTH VOLUME.</h3>

<p class="copy"><span class="smcap">Nichols</span> and <span class="smcap">Son</span>, Printers,<br />
Red Lion Passage, Fleet Street, London.</p>

<div class="footnotes">

<h2 id="FOOTNOTES">FOOTNOTES:</h2>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_1" href="#FNanchor_1" class="label">1</a>
 διὰ τοῦτο&mdash;referring to the good effect of this way of
teaching on the disciples, whom it had enabled, as they
confessed, to <i>understand</i> the things, which Jesus had
taught them.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_2" href="#FNanchor_2" class="label">2</a>
 Tit. ii. 7.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_3" href="#FNanchor_3" class="label">3</a>
 Rom. xv. 2.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_4" href="#FNanchor_4" class="label">4</a>
 They did this with design, and on principle; as appears
from St. Austin’s discourse <i>de Doctrin&acirc; Christian&acirc;</i>,
in which he instructs the Christian preacher to employ, on
some occasions, inelegant and even barbarous terms and
expressions, the better to suit himself to the apprehensions
of his less informed hearers&mdash;<i>non curante illo, qui
docet, quant&acirc; eloquenti&acirc; doceat, sed quant&acirc; evidenti&acirc;. Cujus
evidenti&aelig; diligens appetitus aliquando negligit verba cultiora,
nec curat quid ben&egrave; sonet, sed quid ben&egrave; indicet atque
intimet quod ostendere intendit</i>&mdash;and what follows. L. iv.
p. 74. Ed. Erasm. t. iii.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_5" href="#FNanchor_5" class="label">5</a>
 1 Cor. ii. 2.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_6" href="#FNanchor_6" class="label">6</a>
 Archbishop Tillotson.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_7" href="#FNanchor_7" class="label">7</a>
 Heb. iii. 2.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_8" href="#FNanchor_8" class="label">8</a>
 2 Cor. iv. 5.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_9" href="#FNanchor_9" class="label">9</a>
 Matt. xi. 15.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_10" href="#FNanchor_10" class="label">10</a>
 1 Pet. iii. 3.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_11" href="#FNanchor_11" class="label">11</a>
 1 Pet iii. 15.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_12" href="#FNanchor_12" class="label">12</a>
 <span class="smcap">Alphonsus the Wise</span>&mdash;I go on the common supposition,
that this Prince intended a reflexion on the
<i>system of nature</i> itself; but, perhaps, his purpose was no
more than, in a strong way of expression, (though it must
be owned, no very decent one) to reprobate the <i>hypothesis</i>
[the <i>Ptolemaic</i>], which set that system in so bad a light.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_13" href="#FNanchor_13" class="label">13</a>
 &mdash;μεταξὺ ἀλλήλων τῶν λογισμῶν κατηγορούντων ἢ καὶ ἀπολογουμένων.
See the Paraphrase and Comment on this text
by Mr. Taylor of Norwich, to whom I acknowledge myself
indebted for the idea which governs the general method
of this discourse.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_14" href="#FNanchor_14" class="label">14</a>
 <i>Nat. Deor.</i> l. ii. c. 66.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_15" href="#FNanchor_15" class="label">15</a>
 Sallust.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_16" href="#FNanchor_16" class="label">16</a>
 Plato’s <i>Republic</i>.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_17" href="#FNanchor_17" class="label">17</a>
 Xenophon’s <i>Inst. of Cyrus</i>.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_18" href="#FNanchor_18" class="label">18</a>
 Rom. ch. i. ver. 28-32.&mdash;ποιεῖν τὰ μὴ καθήκοντα&mdash;συνευδοκοῦσι
τοῖς πράσσουσιν.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_19" href="#FNanchor_19" class="label">19</a>
 Cicero, passim.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_20" href="#FNanchor_20" class="label">20</a>
 Felix, Acts xxiv. 25.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_21" href="#FNanchor_21" class="label">21</a>
 Ch. ii. 26.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_22" href="#FNanchor_22" class="label">22</a>
 Ch. iii. 1.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_23" href="#FNanchor_23" class="label">23</a>
 Chap. iii.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_24" href="#FNanchor_24" class="label">24</a>
 Rom. vi. 23.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_25" href="#FNanchor_25" class="label">25</a>
 2 Cor. v. 15.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_26" href="#FNanchor_26" class="label">26</a>
 2 Cor. v. 19.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_27" href="#FNanchor_27" class="label">27</a>
 1 John ii. 2.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_28" href="#FNanchor_28" class="label">28</a>
 Rom. iii. 24.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_29" href="#FNanchor_29" class="label">29</a>
 1 Tim. iv. 10.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_30" href="#FNanchor_30" class="label">30</a>
 Rom. i. 9.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_31" href="#FNanchor_31" class="label">31</a>
 Rom. xv. 13.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_32" href="#FNanchor_32" class="label">32</a>
 Col. ii. 10.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_33" href="#FNanchor_33" class="label">33</a>
 Ephes. iii. 2.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_34" href="#FNanchor_34" class="label">34</a>
 John xii. 48.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_35" href="#FNanchor_35" class="label">35</a>
 Luke xix. 14.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_36" href="#FNanchor_36" class="label">36</a>
 2 Peter ii. 21.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_37" href="#FNanchor_37" class="label">37</a>
 St. John, xiii. 1.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_38" href="#FNanchor_38" class="label">38</a>
 Ch. xiv. 1.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_39" href="#FNanchor_39" class="label">39</a>
 St. John, xiv. 2.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_40" href="#FNanchor_40" class="label">40</a>
 Ch. xiv. 6.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_41" href="#FNanchor_41" class="label">41</a>
 Ch. xiv. 7.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_42" href="#FNanchor_42" class="label">42</a>
 1 Cor. ii. 5.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_43" href="#FNanchor_43" class="label">43</a>
 Matt. xxi. 27.&mdash;xxii. 46.&mdash;xxvii. 14.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_44" href="#FNanchor_44" class="label">44</a>
 Matt. xii. 38.&mdash;xvi. 1.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_45" href="#FNanchor_45" class="label">45</a>
 Mark iv. 34.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_46" href="#FNanchor_46" class="label">46</a>
 Mark iv. 34.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_47" href="#FNanchor_47" class="label">47</a>
 Mark iv. 11.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_48" href="#FNanchor_48" class="label">48</a>
 Matt. xiii. 58. Mark ix. 23.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_49" href="#FNanchor_49" class="label">49</a>
 Matt. vii. 6.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_50" href="#FNanchor_50" class="label">50</a>
 Mark iv. 25.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_51" href="#FNanchor_51" class="label">51</a>
 John xx. 29.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_52" href="#FNanchor_52" class="label">52</a>
 Isaiah lv. 8.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_53" href="#FNanchor_53" class="label">53</a>
 Wisdom, ix. 13.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_54" href="#FNanchor_54" class="label">54</a>
  1 Cor. ii. 11.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_55" href="#FNanchor_55" class="label">55</a>
  Rom. xiii. 3.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_56" href="#FNanchor_56" class="label">56</a>
 Φῶς ἀπρόσιτον.  1 Tim. vi. 16.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_57" href="#FNanchor_57" class="label">57</a>
 John xiv. 22.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_58" href="#FNanchor_58" class="label">58</a>
 Τὴν λογικὴν λατρείαν. Rom. xii. 1.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_59" href="#FNanchor_59" class="label">59</a>
  The dispute about <i>Easter</i>, in the second century.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_60" href="#FNanchor_60" class="label">60</a>
  The dispute about <i>Images</i>, in the eighth century.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_61" href="#FNanchor_61" class="label">61</a>
  Matt. xi. 29.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_62" href="#FNanchor_62" class="label">62</a>
  Matt. x. 34.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_63" href="#FNanchor_63" class="label">63</a>
  Job xxxii. 21.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_64" href="#FNanchor_64" class="label">64</a>
 Plutarch, or whoever was the author of a fragment,
printed among his moral discourses, and entitled, πότερον
τὰ τῆς ψυχῆς ἢ τὰ τοῦ σώματος πάθη χείρονα. Par. Ed. vol. ii.
p. 500.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_65" href="#FNanchor_65" class="label">65</a>
  Called <i>&AElig;ones</i>. See Grotius in loc.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_66" href="#FNanchor_66" class="label">66</a>
 Ἀπεράντοις.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_67" href="#FNanchor_67" class="label">67</a>
  Dat nobis et Paulus brevem γενεαλογίαν, sed perutilem.
<span class="smcap">Grotius.</span></p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_68" href="#FNanchor_68" class="label">68</a>
  Rom. xii. 15.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_69" href="#FNanchor_69" class="label">69</a>
  Rom. i. 32.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_70" href="#FNanchor_70" class="label">70</a>
  1 Peter iii. 16.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_71" href="#FNanchor_71" class="label">71</a>
  <i>Les petites morales</i>; as the French moralists call them.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_72" href="#FNanchor_72" class="label">72</a>
 Φιλανθρωπία.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_73" href="#FNanchor_73" class="label">73</a>
 Φιλαδελφία.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_74" href="#FNanchor_74" class="label">74</a>
 Τῆ φιλ. εἰς αλλ. ΦΙΛΟΣΤΟΡΓΟΙ.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_75" href="#FNanchor_75" class="label">75</a>
  <i>The integrity of the upright shall guide them.</i> Prov. xi. 3.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_76" href="#FNanchor_76" class="label">76</a>
  Δείπνου γενομένου&mdash;</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_77" href="#FNanchor_77" class="label">77</a>
  See more on this subject in the <span class="smcap">Discourse</span> <i>on Christ’s
driving the merchants out of the temple</i>, at the end of the
next volume.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_78" href="#FNanchor_78" class="label">78</a>
  Ver. 14.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_79" href="#FNanchor_79" class="label">79</a>
 If it be asked, why their <i>feet</i>? the answer is, that it
was customary in the east for one to wash the feet of
another. And this practice gave an easy introduction to
the present enigmatical washing; which was equally expressive
of the information designed, when performed on
this part of the body, as on any other.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_80" href="#FNanchor_80" class="label">80</a>
  Grotius saw the necessity of looking beyond the literal
meaning of those words&mdash;<i>If I wash thee not</i>. “Mos
Christi, says he, est a rebus, qu&aelig; adspiciuntur, ad sensum
sublimiorem ascendere.” His comment then follows.
“<i>Nisi te lavero</i>, id est, nisi <i>et sermone et spiritu eluero</i>
quod in te restat minus puri,” &amp;c. Considering how near
Jesus was to his crucifixion, when he said this, one a little
wonders how the great commentator, when he was to
assign the mystical sense of these words, should overlook
that which lay before him. Surely his gloss should have
been, <i>Nisi sanguine meo te eluero</i>, &amp;c.&mdash;Let me just add,
that the force of these words, as addressed to Peter, will
be perfectly understood, if we reflect that he, who said
to Jesus&mdash;<i>Thou shalt never wash my feet</i>&mdash;said on a former
occasion to him, when he spoke, without a figure, of
his <i>death</i> (though not, then, under the idea of a propitiatory
sacrifice, or ablution)&mdash;<i>Be it far from thee, Lord;
this shall not be unto thee</i>. Matt. xvi. 22. So little did
Peter see the necessity of being <i>washed</i> by the blood of
Christ! And so important was the information now given
him in this <i>mystical</i> washing&mdash;<i>If I wash thee not, thou
hast no part with me</i>.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_81" href="#FNanchor_81" class="label">81</a>
  A remarkable instance will be given, in the Discourse
referred to above, at the close of the next volume.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_82" href="#FNanchor_82" class="label">82</a>
 Mark iv. 33. John xvi. 12.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_83" href="#FNanchor_83" class="label">83</a>
 John xiv. 26.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_84" href="#FNanchor_84" class="label">84</a>
  1 John i. 7.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_85" href="#FNanchor_85" class="label">85</a>
  Rev. i. 5.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_86" href="#FNanchor_86" class="label">86</a>
 Eph. i. 7. Coloss. i. 14.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_87" href="#FNanchor_87" class="label">87</a>
 1 Cor. v. 7.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_88" href="#FNanchor_88" class="label">88</a>
  1 Pet. i. 12.  1 Cor. vi. 11. and elsewhere, <i>passim</i>.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_89" href="#FNanchor_89" class="label">89</a>
 Rom. iii. 25.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_90" href="#FNanchor_90" class="label">90</a>
 Luke xii. 46.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_91" href="#FNanchor_91" class="label">91</a>
  Rev. vii. 14.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_92" href="#FNanchor_92" class="label">92</a>
 1 John. vi. 7.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_93" href="#FNanchor_93" class="label">93</a>
  Matt. xviii. 7.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_94" href="#FNanchor_94" class="label">94</a>
  Matt. vi.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_95" href="#FNanchor_95" class="label">95</a>
 Ver. 12.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_96" href="#FNanchor_96" class="label">96</a>
  Phil. iv. 18.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_97" href="#FNanchor_97" class="label">97</a>
  See Whitby in loc.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_98" href="#FNanchor_98" class="label">98</a>
  See passages cited by Dr. Hammond.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_99" href="#FNanchor_99" class="label">99</a>
  1 Cor. iii. 13.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_100" href="#FNanchor_100" class="label">100</a>
  1 Pet. i. 7.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_101" href="#FNanchor_101" class="label">101</a>
  1 Pet. iv. 12.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_102" href="#FNanchor_102" class="label">102</a>
  Eccles. ii. 5.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_103" href="#FNanchor_103" class="label">103</a>
  Heb. xii. 1.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_104" href="#FNanchor_104" class="label">104</a>
  Heb. vi. 4, 5, 6.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_105" href="#FNanchor_105" class="label">105</a>
  The difficulty in the two concluding verses of this chapter,
arises from a <i>vivacity of imagination in the pursuit and
application of metaphors</i>; a faculty, in which the Orientals
excelled, and delighted. They pass suddenly from one idea
to another, nearly, and sometimes, remotely, allied to it.
They relinquish the primary sense, for another suggested
by it; and without giving any notice, as we should do,
of their intention. These numerous <i>reflected lights</i>, as we
may call them, eagerly catched at by the mind in its train
of thinking, perplex the attention of a modern reader,
and must be carefully separated by him, if he would see
the whole scope and purpose of many passages in the sacred
writings.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_106" href="#FNanchor_106" class="label">106</a>
  1 Cor. iv. 7.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_107" href="#FNanchor_107" class="label">107</a>
  1 Cor. xiii.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_108" href="#FNanchor_108" class="label">108</a>
  As in the case of the <i>real presence</i> in the sacrament of
the altar.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_109" href="#FNanchor_109" class="label">109</a>
  As in the case of <i>good works</i>.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_110" href="#FNanchor_110" class="label">110</a>
 An ingenious writer, who appears not to have been
hackneyed in the ways of controversy, and is, therefore,
the more likely to see the truth, in any plain question of
religion, as well as to declare it, expresses himself, fully,
to the same effect&mdash;“It is very weakly urged, that religion
should keep pace with science in improvement; and that
a subscription to articles must always impede its progress:
for nothing can be more absurd than the idea of a progressive
religion; which, being founded upon the declared,
not the imagined, will of God, must, if it attempt
to proceed, relinquish that Revelation which is its basis,
and so cease to be a religion founded upon God’s word.
God has revealed himself; and all that he has spoken, and
consequently all that is demanded of us to accede to, is
declared in one book, from which nothing is to be retrenched,
and to which nothing can be added. All that it
contains, was as perspicuous to those who first perused it,
after the rejection of the papal yoke, as it can be to us
<small>NOW</small>, or as it can be to our posterity in the <small>FIFTIETH GENERATION</small>.”
See <i>A Scriptural Confutation of Mr. Lindsey’s
Apology</i>. Lond. 1774. p. 220.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_111" href="#FNanchor_111" class="label">111</a>
  Rom. xi. 33.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_112" href="#FNanchor_112" class="label">112</a>
  Rom. x. 17.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_113" href="#FNanchor_113" class="label">113</a>
 1 Cor. ix. 16.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_114" href="#FNanchor_114" class="label">114</a>
  Heb. iv. 12.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_115" href="#FNanchor_115" class="label">115</a>
  1 Cor. xii. 7.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_116" href="#FNanchor_116" class="label">116</a>
</p>

<div class="poetry">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">&mdash;&mdash;potus ut ille<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Dicitur ex collo furtim carpsisse coronas,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Postquam est impransi correptus voce magistri.<br /></span>
<span class="author">Hor. 2. Sat. iii. 254.<br /></span>
</div></div></div>
</div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_117" href="#FNanchor_117" class="label">117</a>
  John xii. 48.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_118" href="#FNanchor_118" class="label">118</a>
  2 Cor. iv. 7.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_119" href="#FNanchor_119" class="label">119</a>
  Matth. x. 16.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_120" href="#FNanchor_120" class="label">120</a>
  Cic. Off. L. i. c. 31.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_121" href="#FNanchor_121" class="label">121</a>
  See the Story of Musonius Rufus in Tacitus, Hist.
L. iii. c. 81.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_122" href="#FNanchor_122" class="label">122</a>
  Cic. de Or. L. ii. c. 18.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_123" href="#FNanchor_123" class="label">123</a>
 Bene pr&aelig;cipiunt, qui vetant quidquam agere, quod
dubites, &aelig;quum sit an iniquum: &aelig;quitas enim lucet ipsa
per se; dubitatio cogitationem significat injuri&aelig;.

<span class="author">Cic. de Off. L. I. ix.</span></p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_124" href="#FNanchor_124" class="label">124</a>
 Matth. v. 8.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_125" href="#FNanchor_125" class="label">125</a>
 To the same purpose, Seneca, of the old heathen
philosophers: “Antiqua sapientia,” says he, “nihil aliud,
qu&agrave;m <small>FACIENDA</small> et <small>VITANDA</small>, pr&aelig;cepit: et tunc long&egrave;
meliores erant viri: postquam docti prodierunt, boni desunt.
Simplex enim illa et aperta virtus in obscuram et
solertem scientiam versa est, docemurque disputare, non
vivere.” Senec. Ep. xcv.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_126" href="#FNanchor_126" class="label">126</a>
 Corrumpere et corrumpi, <i>s&aelig;culum</i> vocatur. Tacitus.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_127" href="#FNanchor_127" class="label">127</a>
 Frequens imitatio transit in mores. Quinctil. L.
I. c. XI.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_128" href="#FNanchor_128" class="label">128</a>
 <i>Vitam impendere vero.</i> His motto.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_129" href="#FNanchor_129" class="label">129</a>
  Mes ennemies auront beau faire avec leurs injures; ils
ne m’&ocirc;teront point l’honneur d’&ecirc;tre un homme v&eacute;ridique
en touts chose, <i>d’&ecirc;tre le seul auteur de mon siecle, &amp; de
beaucoup d’autres, qui ait &eacute;crit de bonne foi</i>.

<span class="author">
Rousseau, Lettre &agrave; M. de Beaumont.</span></p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_130" href="#FNanchor_130" class="label">130</a>
 “Une preuve de sa bonne foi, c’est qu’il [M. Newton]
a comment&eacute; l’Apocalypse. Il y trouve clairement que le
Pape est l’Antichrist, et il explique d’ailleurs ce livre
comme tous ceux qui s’en sont m&ecirc;l&eacute;s. Apparemment
qu’il a voulu par ce commentaire <small>CONSOLER LA RACE
HUMAINE</small> de la sup&eacute;riorit&eacute; qu’il avoit sur elle.” Œuvres
de Voltaire, T. v. c. 29. 1757.</p>

<p>“If he [K. James I.] has composed a commentary on the
Revelations, and proved the Pope to be Antichrist; may
not a similar reproach be extended to the famous Napier;
and even to <span class="smcap">Newton</span>, at a time when learning
was much more advanced than during the reign of
James? From the grossness of its superstitions, we
may infer the ignorance of an age; but never should
pronounce concerning the <small>FOLLY OF AN INDIVIDUAL</small>,
from his admitting popular errors, consecrated with the
appearance of religion.”  Hume’s Hist. of Great Britain,
Vol. VI. p. 136. Lond. 1763. 8vo.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_131" href="#FNanchor_131" class="label">131</a>
Nil actum credens, dum quid superesset agendum.

<span class="author">Lucan.</span></p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_132" href="#FNanchor_132" class="label">132</a>
 <span class="smcap">Hippias, the Elean.</span> Cic. de Oratore, c. 32.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_133" href="#FNanchor_133" class="label">133</a>
 <span class="smcap">Socrates.</span></p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_134" href="#FNanchor_134" class="label">134</a>
 2 Cor. xii. 2.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_135" href="#FNanchor_135" class="label">135</a>
 1 Cor. xiii. 2.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_136" href="#FNanchor_136" class="label">136</a>
 Philip. iii. 6.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_137" href="#FNanchor_137" class="label">137</a>
 Matt. v. 17.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_138" href="#FNanchor_138" class="label">138</a>
  <span class="smcap">Bayle</span>, Comm. Phil. Part II. Ch. IV. <span class="smcap">Locke</span> on
Toleration, Letter I. <span class="smcap">Warburton</span>, D. L. B. v. S. 11.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_139" href="#FNanchor_139" class="label">139</a>
  1 Tim. i. 15.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_140" href="#FNanchor_140" class="label">140</a>
  1 Cor. xv. 9.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_141" href="#FNanchor_141" class="label">141</a>
  De se tromper en croyant vraie la religion Chr&eacute;tienne,
il n’y a pas grand’ chose &agrave; perdre: mais quel malheur de se
tromper en la croyant fausse!  M. Pascal, p. 225.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_142" href="#FNanchor_142" class="label">142</a>
  Plutarch. <span class="smcap">Brutus.</span></p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_143" href="#FNanchor_143" class="label">143</a>
  Of opening private letters, and employing spies of
state. <span class="smcap">Clarendon.</span></p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_144" href="#FNanchor_144" class="label">144</a>
  John x. 32.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_145" href="#FNanchor_145" class="label">145</a>
  “Illa in illo homine mirabilia fuerunt, comprehendere
multos amiciti&acirc;, tueri obsequio, cum omnibus communicare
quod habebat, servire temporibus suorum
omnium, pecuni&acirc;, grati&acirc;, labore corporis, scelere etiam,
si opus esset, et audaci&acirc;: versare suam naturam, et
regere ad tempus, atque huc et illuc torquere et flectere;
cum tristibus sever&egrave;, cum remissis jucunde; cum senibus
graviter, cum juventute comiter; cum facinorosis
audacter, cum libidinosis luxurios&egrave; vivero. H&acirc;c ille
tam vari&acirc; multiplicique natur&acirc;, &amp;c.” <i>Cicero pro M.
C&aelig;lio</i>, c. iii.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_146" href="#FNanchor_146" class="label">146</a>
  Juventus pleraque, sed maxim&egrave; <i>nobilium</i>, Catilin&aelig;
incœptis favebat. <i>Sallust.</i> c. 17. And again: omnino
<i>cuncta plebes</i>, Catilin&aelig; incœpta probabat. c. 37.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_147" href="#FNanchor_147" class="label">147</a>
 1 John iii. 21.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_148" href="#FNanchor_148" class="label">148</a>
 St. Ambrose. Apud Whitby.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_149" href="#FNanchor_149" class="label">149</a>
 John xviii. 31.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_150" href="#FNanchor_150" class="label">150</a>
 Rom. iii. 4.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_151" href="#FNanchor_151" class="label">151</a>
  The words ταπεινὸς, and <i>humilis</i>, are observed to be
generally, if not always, used in a bad sense by the Greek
and Latin writers.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_152" href="#FNanchor_152" class="label">152</a>
 Philipp. ii. 5. 8.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_153" href="#FNanchor_153" class="label">153</a>
 Matthew xvi. 24.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_154" href="#FNanchor_154" class="label">154</a>
  Matth. xxiii. 33.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_155" href="#FNanchor_155" class="label">155</a>
  Mark x. 21.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_156" href="#FNanchor_156" class="label">156</a>
  For it is with propositions, as with <i>characters</i>, in relation
to which the language of the true moralist is:
“Explica, atque excute intelligentiam tuam, ut videas qu&aelig;
sit in e&acirc; species, forma, et notio viri boni.”

<span class="author">
Cic. de Off. l. III. c. 20.</span></p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_157" href="#FNanchor_157" class="label">157</a>
 Prov. ii. 4.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_158" href="#FNanchor_158" class="label">158</a>
 1 Tim. v. 6.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_159" href="#FNanchor_159" class="label">159</a>
 Prov. ix. 8.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_160" href="#FNanchor_160" class="label">160</a>
 Queis humana sibi doleat natura negatis.

<span class="author">Hor. I. S. i. 75.</span></p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_161" href="#FNanchor_161" class="label">161</a>
 Eccles. v. 11.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_162" href="#FNanchor_162" class="label">162</a>
 Prov. xvi. 25.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_163" href="#FNanchor_163" class="label">163</a>
 Prov. xxiii. 5.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_164" href="#FNanchor_164" class="label">164</a>
 Si hoc est <i>explere</i>, quod statim profundas.

<span class="author"><span class="smcap">Cic.</span> Phil. ii. 8.</span></p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_165" href="#FNanchor_165" class="label">165</a>
 Quid sumus, et quidnam victuri gignimur. <span class="smcap">Persius.</span></p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_166" href="#FNanchor_166" class="label">166</a>
 1 Tim. vi. 9.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_167" href="#FNanchor_167" class="label">167</a>

</p>

<div class="poetry">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">Ardua res h&aelig;c est, opibus non tradere mores,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Et c&ugrave;m tot Crœsos viceris, esse Numam.<br /></span>
<span class="author"><span class="smcap">Martial, xi.</span> vi.<br /></span>
</div></div></div></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_168" href="#FNanchor_168" class="label">168</a>
 Matth. xix. 23.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_169" href="#FNanchor_169" class="label">169</a>
 Ps. lxii. 10.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_170" href="#FNanchor_170" class="label">170</a>
 Luke xvi. 9.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_171" href="#FNanchor_171" class="label">171</a>
 2 Cor. xiii. 14.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_172" href="#FNanchor_172" class="label">172</a>
 1 Thess. iv. 8.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_173" href="#FNanchor_173" class="label">173</a>
 Acts xi. 16.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_174" href="#FNanchor_174" class="label">174</a>
 Eph. i. 13.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_175" href="#FNanchor_175" class="label">175</a>
 It was the easier to do this, as the Heathens had their
Minerva and Diana, as well as grosser deities; and their
vestal virgins too; though, I doubt, in less numbers than
the shameless votaries of the Corinthian Venus.

<span class="author">
See <span class="smcap">Strabo</span>, L. viii. p. 378. Par. 1620.</span></p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_176" href="#FNanchor_176" class="label">176</a>
 Ps. xlvi. 4.&mdash;lxxx. 1.&mdash;xxvi. 8.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_177" href="#FNanchor_177" class="label">177</a>
 Nullis <small>POLLUITUR</small> casta domus stupris. <span class="smcap">Hor.</span></p>

<p>Cum castum amisit <small>POLLUTO CORPORE</small> florem.  <span class="smcap">Catul.</span></p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_178" href="#FNanchor_178" class="label">178</a>
 Dr. Whitby on the place.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_179" href="#FNanchor_179" class="label">179</a>
  Rom. vi. 21.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_180" href="#FNanchor_180" class="label">180</a>
  Job xx. 11.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_181" href="#FNanchor_181" class="label">181</a>
  Prov. xxi. 17.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_182" href="#FNanchor_182" class="label">182</a>
  The poet says well of such <i>stains</i>, as these;
</p>

<div class="poetry">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0"><i>Impress&aelig; resident nec eluentur.</i><br /></span>
<span class="author"><span class="smcap">Catull.</span><br /></span>
</div></div></div>
</div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_183" href="#FNanchor_183" class="label">183</a>
  <span class="smcap">Suet.</span> J. C&aelig;sar, c. 45.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_184" href="#FNanchor_184" class="label">184</a>
  Ps. xxxvii. 38.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_185" href="#FNanchor_185" class="label">185</a>
  Eccles. c. xi. 9.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_186" href="#FNanchor_186" class="label">186</a>
 Pompey, who burnt the papers of Sertorius.</p></div>

<div class="footnote">

<p><a id="Footnote_187" href="#FNanchor_187" class="label">187</a>
  James iii. 2.</p></div>

</div>

<div class="transnote">

<h3>Transcriber’s Note:</h3>

<p>Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation are as in the original.</p>

<p>Greek words beginning with ϖ have had the character replaced with π.</p>

</div>

<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 54541 ***</div>
</body>
</html>
generated by cgit v1.2.3 (git 2.25.1) at 2026-07-21 06:25:02 +0000