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LIBEA.RY
Theological Seminary,
PRINCETON, N. J.
BV 4253 .S3 S8 1812 v.5 1^ Saurin, Jacques, 1677-1730. P Sermons translated from the original French of the late
SERMONS
TRANSLATED FROM THE ORIGINAL FRENCH
OF
THE LATE REV. JAMES SAURIN,
PASTOR OF THE FRENCH CHURCH AT THE HAGUE;
BY ROBERT ROBINSON.
VOLUME V.
ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS.
THE FIFTH EDITION.
LONDON:
Printed by R. Eduards, Crane Court, Fleet Street,
FOR W. BAYNES, 54, PATERNOSTER ROW,
1812.
THE
PREFACE.
IT was not my intention, when I translated the first four volumes of Mr Saurin's sermons, to add any more : but, willing to contribute my mite toward the pleasure and edification of such as having read the four desired a fifth, I took an opportunity, and added this fifth volume to a second edition of the four first. There is no alteration worth mentioning in the four, except that the editor thinking the fourth too thin, I have given him a dissertation on the supposed madness of David at the court of Achish, translated from the French of Mr Dumont, which he has added to increase the size of that volume, following, however, his own ideas in this and not mine.
Saurin's sermons, in the original, are twelve octavo volumes, eleven of which are miscellaneous, and one contains a regular train of sermons for Lent, and is the only set of sermons among the whole. The four English volumes are composed of a selection of ser- mons from, the xvhole with a view to a kind of order, the first being intended to convey proper ideas of the true character of God, the second to establish ixvela- tion, and so on : but this volume is miscellaneous, and contains fourteen sermons on various subjects. For my part, almost all the sermons of our author are of equal value in my eye; and each seems to me to have a beauty peculiar to itself, and superior in its kind : but when I speak thus I wish to be understood.
It is not to be imagined, that a translator adopts oU the sentiments of his author. To approve of a man's religious views in general is a reason sufficient to en- voi,. V, K gap^e
X PREFACE.
gage a person to translate, and it would be needless, if not arrogant, to enter a protest in a note against every word in which the author differed from the translator .- In general, I think, Saurinis one of the first of modern preachers : and his sermons, the whole construction of them, worth the' attention of any teacher of Christian- ity, \Vho wishes to excell in his way : but there are many articles taken separately in which my ideas differ en- tirely from those of Mr Saurin, both in doctrine, rites, discipline, and other circumstances.
For example, our author speaks a language concern- ing the rites of Christianity, which I do not profess to un- derstand. All he says of infant baptism appears to me erroneous, for I think infant baptism an innovation. When he speaks of the Lord's supper, and talks of a hoh/ table, consecration, august symbols, and sublime mysteries of the sacrament, I confess, my approbation pauses, and I feel the exercise of my understanding sus- pended, or rather diverted from the preacher to what I suspect the sources of his mistakes. The Lord's sup- per is a commemoration of the most important of all e- vents to us, the death of Christ ; but I know of no my- stery in it, and the primitive church knew of none; my^ stery and transubstantiation rose together, and together should have expired. August symbols may seem bom- bast to us, but such epithets ought to pass with impu- nity among the gay and ever exuberant sons of France.
Again, in regard to church discipline, our author sometimes addresses civil magistrates to suppress scan- dalous books of divinity, and exhorts them to protect the church, and to furnish it with sound and able nastors : but, when I translate such passages, I recol- lect Mr Saurin was a presbyterian, a friend to esta- blishments, with toleration however, and in his system^ of church discipline the civil magistrate is to take order as some divines have sublimely expressed it. Mv ideas of the absolute freedom of the press, and
the
PREFACE. XI
the independent right of every Christian society to elect its own officers, and to judge for itself in every possible case of religion, oblige me on this subject also to difter from our author.
Further, Mr Saurin, in his addresses to mi?iisiers speaks of them in a style much too high for my no- tions. I think, all Christians are brethren^ and that any man, who understands the Christian religion him- self, may teach it to one other man, or to two other men, or to tvv^o hundred, or to two thousand, if they think' proper to invite him to do so ; and I suppose w^hat they call ordination not necessary to the exercise of his abilities : much less do I think that there is a secret something, call it Holy Ghost, or what else you please, tlxat passes from the hand of a clerical ordainer to the whole essence of the ordained conveying vali- dity, power, indelible character, and so to speak crea- tion to his ministry. Mr Saurin^'s colleagues are JLevites holy to the Lord, ambassadots of the King of kings, administrators of the new covenant, who have written on their foreheads holiness to the Lord, and on their breasts the names of the children of Israel ! In the writings of Moses all this is history : in the sermons of Mr Saurin all this is oratory : in my creed all this is nonentiiy.
It signifies so little to the world what such an ob- scure man as I believe and approve, that I never thought to remark any of these articles in translating and prefacing the first four volumes : but lest I should seem, while I am propagating truth, to countenance error, I thought it necessary to make this remark. Indeed, I have always flattered myself for differing from Saurin ; for I took it for probable evidence that I had the virtue to think for myself, even in the pre- sence of the man in the w^orld the most likely to seduce me. Had I a human oracle in religion, perhaps 6aurin would be the man : but one is our master, even Christ.
Not'wHit'h--
Ml F R E F A C E.
Not withstanding these objections I honour this man lor his great abiUties I much more for the holy use he made of them in teaching the Christian religion ; and also for the seal, which it pleased God to set to his ministry ; for he was, in the account of a great number of his brethren, a chosen vessel unto the Lord, iilled with an excellent treasure of the light of the know- ledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ, and his ministry was attended wdth abundant success. As I have been speaking of what I judge his defects, it is but fair to add a few words of what I account his- excellencies.
My exact notions of tVLO, Christian ministry are stated in tlie tenth sermon of this volumte, entitled the different I methods of preachers, Mr Saurin, after the apostle "f'aul, divides Christian ministers into three classes. The first hiy another foundation different from that ; "Which is laid. The second build on the right foun- j dation, wood, hay and stubble. The third build on the / same foundation, gold, silver, and precious stones. I -^ consider Mr Saurin as one of the last class, and I think ' it would be very easy to exemplify from his own dis- courses the five excellencies, mentioned by him. as de- scriptive of the men.
First, there is in our author a wise choice of subjects, and no such thing as a sermon on a question of mere curiosity. There are in the twelve volumes one hun- dred and forty four sermons : but not one on a subject unimportant. I shall always esteem it a proof of a sound prudent understanding in a teacher of religion to make a proper choice of doctrifie, text, arguments, and even images and style adapted to the edification of his hearers. Where a man has lying before him a hundred subjects, ninety of which are indisputable, and tlie remaining ten extremely controverted and very obscure, what but a wayward genius can induce him nine times out of ten to choose the doubtful as the subjects of his ministry ?
Saurin
PREFACE, xiiJ
Saurin excels, too, in the ^oj^^jltm^^ oi i^is dis- courses. They are all practical, and, set out from ;ivhat point he will, you may be sure he will make his way to the heart in order to regulate the actions of life. Sometimes he attacks the body of sin, as in his sermon on the passions, and at other times he attacks a single part of this body, as in his sermon on the de- spair of Julias ; one while he inculcates a particular virtue, as in the discourse on the repentance of the wi-. cJiaste luoman, another time piety, benevolence, prac- tical religion in general : but in all he endeavours to diminish the dominion of sin, and to extend the em- pire of virtue.
Again, auother character of his discourses is what he calls solidity, and which h^ distinguishes from the fallacious glare of mere w^it and ingenuity. Not that his sermo^is are void of invention and acuteness : but it is easy to see his design is not to display his owii genius, but to elucidate his subject ; and when inven-^ tion is subservient to argument, and holds light to a subject it appears in character, beautiful because in the service and livery of truth. Mere essays of genius are for schools and under graduates : they ought never to appear in the christian pulpit ; for sensible people do not attend sermons to have men' s persons in admiration, but to receive such instruction and animation as may serve their religious improvement.
Further, our author, to use again his own language, ,cxcelled in " weigliijig in just balances truth against eixor, probability against proof, conjecture against demonstration, and despised the miserable sophisms of those vrho defended truth with the arms of error." We have a fine example of this in the eleventh sermon, on the deep things of God, and there fidelity and mo- desty arc blended in a manner extremely pleasing. The doctrine of the divine decrees hath been very iuuch agitated, and into two extremes, each under some plausible pretence, divines have gone. Some have not only made up their own minds on tlie sub-
iort.
xiy PREFACE.
je.ct, in which they were right, but they have gone so far as to exact a conformity of opinion from others, and have made such conformity the price of their friendship, and, so to speak, a ticket for admittance to the LfOrd's supper, and church communion: in this -they were Avrong. Others struck with the glaring absurdity of the former, have gone into the opposite ,extreme, and thought it needless to form any senti- ments at all on this, and no other subjects connected with it. Our author sets a fine example of a wise mo- deration. On the one hand, with a wisdom, that does him honour, he exaniines the subject, and with the fi- , deiity of an upright soul openly declares in the face of the sun that he hath- sentiments of his own, v»'hich are those of his own community, and he thinks those of the inspired writers. On^he other hand, far from erect- .ing himself, or eveii his synod, into a standard of orthodoxy, a tribunal to decide on the rights and pri- vileges of other christians, he opens his benevolent arms to admit theixi to communion, and, with a grace« ful modesty, to use his own language, ^z/^^ his hand on his ?nouth, in regard to rnany difticulties that belong , to his own system, I think this sermon may serve for a model of treating this subject/ and many others of the Christ;ian religion. There is a certain point, 'to -which conviction must go, because evidence goes before it to lead the way, and up to this point we believe because we understand : but beyond this we have no faith, because we have no' understanding, and can have no conviction, because we have no evi- dence. This point differs in different men accord- ing to the different strength of their mental powers, and as there is no such thing as a standard soul, by which all other souls ought to be estimated, so there can be no such thing as a human test in a Christian church, by which the opinions of other Christians ought to be valued. There is one insuperable difficulty, which can never be surmounted, in setting up human tests,
that
PREFACE. XT
that is, whose opinion shall the test he ^ yours or inine? and the only consistent church in the world on this article is the church of Rome.
Were men as much inclined to unite, and to use gentle healing measures, as they are to divide," and to gratify an arbitrary censorious spirit, they would nei- ther be so ridiculous as to pretend to hav-e no iixed sen- timents of their own in religion, nor so unjust as to make their own opinions a standard for all other men. There are in religion som.e great, principal, infallible' truths, and there are various fallible inferences derived by different Christians : in the first all agree, in the last all should agree to differ. I think this, I repeat it again, a chief excellence in our author. He has sentiments of his own, but he holds them in a liberal generous manner, no way injurious to the rights of other men.
In the sermon above mentioned, Saurin makes a fifth class of mean superficial builders without eleva- tion and penetration, and against these he sets such as soar aloft in the exercise of the ministry, and in this also he himself excels. His thoughts on some subjects are lofty, and his language sublime. He is not afraid of considering religion in union with our feelings, nor does he hesitate to address hope and fear, and other passions of our minds with those great truths of the gospel, which are intended to allure, awake, arouse, '' and excite us to action. Terribly sometimes does he treat of future punishment, and generally under the * awful images made use of in holy scripture : delight- fully at other times does he speak of eternal happiness in the enjoyment of God. On both these subjects, on the perfections of God, and on the exercise of piety, particularly in the closet, he stretches and soars, not out of sight beyond truth and the reason of things, but so high only as to elevate and animate his hearers. By the most exact rules of a wise and well-directed eloquence most of his sermons are com-
posed :
xvi P R E F A € E.
posed : at first cool and gentle like a morning in May, as they proceed glowing with a pleasant warmth, and toward the close not so much intlaming as settling and incorporating the fire of the subject with the spirits of his hearers, so as to produce the brisk circulation of every virtue of v»^hich the heart of man is capable, and all which spend their force in the performance pf the ^uties of life.
Our author always treats his hearers like rational creatures, and excels in laying a ground of argument to convince the judgment before he offers to affect the passions : but what I admire most of all in him is his conscientious attachment to the connected sense of scripture. The inspired book is that precisely, which ought to be explained in a Christian auditory, and above all that part of it the New-Testament, and the connected sense is that, which only deserves to be called the true and real sense of scripture. By dcT tached passages, as Saurin observes, any thing may be proved from scripture, even that there is no God ; and I question whether any one of our wretched cus- toms hath so much contributed to produce and cherish error as that of taking detached passages of scripture for the whole doctrine of scripture on any particular subject. An adept in this art will cuU one verse from Obadiah, another from Jude, a third from Leviticus, and a fourth from Solomon's song^ and compile a fun- damental doctrine to be received as the mind of God by all good Christians under pain of his displeasure. Were this a common man, and not a sublime genius •under the influence of the Holy Spirit, and so beyond advice, I would presume to counsel him always to cap his medley of a sermon with a text from the La- mentations of Jeremiah.
Do we then propose Saurin as a model for all preachers ? By no means. But as w-e suppose there are diversities of gifts for the edification of the church, each excellent in its kind, 50 we -suppose Saurin a model
in
PREFACE, xvii
in. his Qwii ,<2lass. There is in the writings of the apobtle Paul one of the finest allegories in. the world to illustrate this subject. The Christian church is considered under the image of 2in human body, and- of this body God is considered as the Spirit or soul; and the most refined morality is drawn from the fact. The eye cannot say unto the handl have no need of thee : nor again, the head to the feet, I have no 7ieedofyou, If one member be honoured, all the members rejoice with it ;for it is the same God which worketh «// diversities of gifts in all good men. It is highly probable, that what is iiffii'med of individuals may be true of collective bodies of men, One church may excel in literature, another in purity of doctrine, a third in simplicity of worship, a fourth in administration of ordinances, a fifth in sweetness of temper and disposition, and so on. It is not for us to investigate this subject now ; let it suffice to observe that the French reformed church hath excelled in a clear, convincing and animating way of composing and delivering Christian sermons. Never so warm as to forget reasoning, never so accurate as to omit energy, not always placid, not always rapid, never so moral as to be dry and insipid, never so evan- gelical and savoury as to spiritualize the scriptures till the fat of a kidney is as good a body of divinity as the whole sermon of Jesus Christ on the mount. Different as my ideas of some subjects are from those of Mr Sau« rin, yet I wish we had a Saurin in every parish : yea so intirely woukl I go into the doctrine of the apostle's allegory just now mentioned, that I would encourage even a builder of wood, hay and stubble, suppose he erected his absurdities on the foundation /r/zV/ in scripture, to destroy the vrorks of the devil in anyplace where thos<e works are practised. In a village made up of a stupid thing called a squire, a mercenary priest, a set of in- toxicated farmers, and a train of idle profligate and miserable poor, and where the barbarous rhymes in their church yard inform us that they 4ire all either
gone
xviii PREFACE.
gone or going to heaven (and we have too many such parishes in remote parts of the kingdom) would it not be infinitely better for society if an honest enthu- siast could convert these people to piety and morality, though it were effected by spiritualizing all the flanks and kidnies, and bullocks and red cows mentioned in scripture ? Any thing of religion is better than debau- <chery and blasphemy.
Such a set of converts would grow in time up to majority, and when of age would look back on their j&rst religious nourishment as men do on the amuse- ments of their chil dhood : and among other reformations would cleanse public instruction from Jewish allegory, pagan philosophy, and the gaudy tinsel of the schools. From a state of gross ignorance and vice up to a state of the highest perfection of christian knowledge and virtue lie irjfinite degrees of improvement, one above another in a scale of excellence up to the first born of every creature, the perfect teacher sent from God. In this scale our author occupies a high place in my eye, and if a reader choose to place him a few degrees lower, I shall not contend about that ; for on my principles if he contribute in any, even the least degree to the cause of truth and virtue, he is a foreigner worth our acquaintance, and the gallic in his appearance will not disgust a friend to the best interests of mankind. I say nothing of the translation : it does not become me. JLet those who are able do better. Envy of thi$ tind I have none.
Tbe
F R E F A C E. xix
The following is the prayer, which Mr Saurin gene- rally used immediately before Sermon.
OLORD I Our God and Father I thou seest us pros- trate in thy presence to render the homage due to thy Majesty, to confess our sins to thee, and to i;mplore thy favour. Had we followed the first emo^ tions of our consciences, we should not have pre- sumed to lift our eyes tP heaven, but should have fled from thy sight. We are creatures mean and infirm, a thousand times more unworthy of appearing before tliee for our depravity, than for our natural meanness. But, O Lord ! though our sins and miseries depress us, yet thy me;:cy lifts us up. Thou art a God mer- ciful and gracious, slow to anger and abundant in goodness ; thou hast no pleasure in the death of a sin- ner; but that he should repent and live; and thou hast given thy Son to the world, that whosoever believeth in him should have everlasting life. So many benefits, S:o many promises encourage our trembling consci- ences, and inspire us with the liberty we now take to approach the throne of thy mercy, and to implore the powerful aid of thy grace. We have always need of thine assistance : but now, O Lord ! we feel a more than usual want. We are assembled in thy house to learn the doctrines of our salvation, and the rules of our conduct : but, O God ! our duty surpasses our strength, we cannot succeed without thy Holy Spirit. Grant a double portion of this to us who preach thy word ; grant, after we have understood thine oracles, we may be first affected with the truths they contain, before we propose them to others, and may we an- nounce them in a manner suitable to their excellence. But suffer us not to labaur in vain ; dispose our hearers to receive thine orders with submission, and to practise them with punctuality ; so that all of us, being ani- mated with one spirit, and aiming at one end, may
sanctify
^ F R E F J C B.
sanctify our conduct, and live agreeable to the holiness of our calling. We praj for all these blessings in the name of thy well beloved Son Jesus Christ our Lord. Our Father, 6«^c.
The followmg is the approbation cj' the Walloon Church at Doj't, emploi/ed by the Synod of Utrecht to exa- mine the Sermons of Mr Saurin.
WE have found nothing in all these sermons con- trary to the doctrine received among us. We have remarked every v/here a manly eloquence, a close reasoning, an imagination lively and proper to esta- blish the truths of our holy religion, and to explain substantialiy and elegantly the duties of morality. Ac- cordingly we believe they will effectually contribute to edify the church, and to render more and more respectal3le the memory of this worthy servant of God, whose death the examination of his works hath given us a fresh occasion to lam_ent. We attest this to the venerable Synod at Utrecht. In the sanie sentiments we send the present attestation to om* most dear bro- ther Mr Dumont, pastor and professor at Rotterdam, whom the late Mr Saurin appointed by his will to take the charge of publishing such of his works as were fit for the press. Done at the Consistory of the Walloon Church at D(>rt, May 20th X731, and signed by order of all, by .
H. G. Certon, J. Comperat,
Pastor, Pastor,
Adrian Braets Jacobz, Elder, John Backris, Elder. . John Van Breda, Deaco7i, fSimon Taay Van Campen, Deacon.
CONTENTS
>
CONTENTS
OF THE
FIFTH VOLUME.
SERMON I.
The fatal Consequences of a bad Education. \ Samuel iii. 11, 12.
Page 25 SEBMON II, - General Mistakes,
45
SERMON IIL
The Advantages of Piety. 1 Timothy iv, 8.
SERMON IV.
The Repentance of the Unchaste AVoman. Luke vii. 36—50.
67
PI
:^xu Contents.
SERMON V. The Vanity of Attempting to Oppose uod. Proverbs xxi. 30.
Page 125
SERMON VI. Imaginary Schemes of Happiness.
ECCLESIASTES i. Q,
SERMON VIL Disgust with Life.
ECCLESIASTES il, 17»
SERMON VIII.
The Passions, r Peter ii. 1 1 .
SERMON IX.
Transient Devotions.
Hose A vi. 4.
147
167
19&
229 SERMON
CONTENTS, idLiii
SERMON X.
The Different Methods of Preachers.
1 Corinthians iii, ii_i5.
Page 261
SERMON XI.
The Deep Things of God.
Romans xi. 33.
28a
SERMON XII.
The Sentence passed upon Judas by Jesus Christ.
Matthew xxvi. 17,
317 SERMON XIII.
The Cause of the Destruction of Impenitent
Sinners.
HosEA xiii. 9.
339
SERMON XIV.
The Grief of the Riditeous for the Misconduct of
the Wicked.
Psalm cxix. 136.
359
SERMON
'•\THHOLOGICii.L
SERMON I.
The Fatal Consequences of a Bad Education.
I Samuel iii. 12, 13.
I7i that day^ I will perform against Eli, all things which I have spoken co?icerning his house : ivhe?i I begin^ I will also make an end. For I have told him, that I will Judge his house for ever, for the iniquitt/ which he knoweth : because his sons made themselves vile, and he restrained them not,
THESE words are part of a discourse which God addressed to young Samuel in a vision, the whole history of which is well known to us all. We intend to lix our chief attention on the misery of a pa- rent, who neglects the education of his children : but before we consider the subject in this point of view, we will make three remarks tending to elucidate the history. The crimes of the sons of Eli, the indulgence of the unhappy father, and the punishment of that in- dulgence demand our attention.
Observe the crimes of the sons of Eh, They supported their debaucheries by the victims which the people brought to the tabernacle to be offered in sacrifice. The law assigned them the shoulders and the breasts of all the beasts sacrificed for peace-ofFerings : but, not
VOL. V. C content
20' The fatal Consequences of a bad Education.
content with these, they seized the portions which G6d had appointed to such as brought the offerings, and which he had commanded them to eat in his pre- sence, to signify their communion with him. They drew these portions with flesh-hooks out of the cal- drons, in which they were boiling. Sometimes they took them raw, that they might have an opportunity of prepaiing liiem to their taste ; and thus by serving themselves before God they discovered a contempt for those just and charitable ends which God had in view, when he ordained that his ministers should live on a part of the sacrifices. God, by providing a table for the priests in his own house, intended to make it ap- pear, that they had the honour of being his domestics, and, so to speak, that they lived on his revenue. This was a benevolent design. God also, by appointing the priests to eat after they had sacrificed, intended to make them understand that he was their sovereign, and the principal object of all the ceremonies perform- ed in his palace. These were just views.
The excesses of the table generally prepare the way for debauchery ; and the sons of Eli having admitted the first had fallen into -the last, so that they abused the women that assembled at the door of the tabernacle of the congregatio7i, chap. ii. 22. and to such a degree had they carried these enormities that the people, who had been used to frequent the holy place only for the purpose of rendering homage to Almighty God, were drawn thither by the abominable desire of gratifying the inclinations of his unworthy ministers. Such were the crimes of the sons of Eli.
Let us observe next the indulgence of the parent. He did not wholly neglect to correct his sons, for the re- proofs he gave them are recorded in the second chapter. Why do ye such things ? said he to them for I hear oft/our evil dealings by all this people. Do ?wt so my sons, for it is no good report that I hear. To perform a duty of such importance with so hiuch indifference was
equal
TJw fatal Consequences of a bad Education, 2?
equal to an encouragement of the sin. Eli made use of petitions and exhortations, when he ought to have applied sharp reproofs, and alarming threatenings. He censured and rebuked, when he ought to have anathematized and thundered : accordingly, after the Holy Spirit had related the reproofs which Eli, in the words just now cited, addressed to his sons, he tells us in the text, by a seeming contradiction, but in words full of truth and good sense, that Eli restrained them not. Observe thirdly what terrible 'punishments this cri- minal indulgence drew down upon the guilty father, the profligate sons, and even the whole people under their direction. A prophet had before denounced these judgments against Eli, in order to engage him to prevent the repetition of the crimes, and the inflic- tion of the punishments . Wherefore honour est thou thy sons above me P said the man of God. " I said, indeed, that thy house, and the house of thy father should walk before me for ever : but behold the days come that I will cut off thine arm, and the arm of thy father's house, that there shall n.ot be an old man in thine house. And thou slialt see an enemy in my habitation, in all the wealth which God shall give Israel. And the man of thine, whom I shall not cut off from mine altar, shall be to consume thine eyes, and to grieve thine heart. And this shall be a sign unto thee, thy two sons, Hophni and Phinehas in one day shall both of them die, chap. iL 29, &c.
These threatenings were accomplished in all their rigour. The arm- is in scripture an emblem of strength, and when the prophet threatened Eli, that the Lord would cut off his artn, and the arm of his father's house, he meant to foretel that the family of this priest should fall into decay. Hophni and Phi- nehas perished in battle when the Philistines conquered the Israelites. Ahitub and Ichabod, the sons of Phi- nehas, lived only a few years after the death of their father. If we believe a ti-adition of the Jews, this threatening was accomplished many ages after it was
2 uttered,
28 The Fatal CoJisequeiiccs of a bad Education,
uttered. We are told in the Talmud, that there was at Jerusalem a family, in which no one outlived the eighteenth year of his age j and that a famous Rabbi found by inquiring into the origin of that family, that it descended from £li. A rival, Zaaok, was made high priest instead of Abiathar, a descendant of Eli. We are able to prove by very exact registers that the high priesthood continued in the family of Zadok not only from the building of the temple to the destruc- tion of it, that is to say for the space of four hundred years, but even to the time of Antiochus Epiphanes. The rest of the misfortunes of Eli, the victory obtain- ed by the Philistines, the taking of the ark, the confu- sion which brought on the labour and the death of the \yife of Phinehas, v/ho expired, saying, name the child Ichabod, for the glory is departed from Israel, chap. iv. 19, &c. the violent death of Eli ; all these events are fully known.
I hasten to the chief design of this discourse. The extreme rigour which God used toward Eli, and the terrible judgments with which he punished the indul- gence of this unhappy parent, seem to offend some v.'ho have not attended to the great guilt of a parent, who^neglects to devote his children to God by a holy education. I am going to endeavour to remove this offence, and, in order to do so, 1 shall not confine m.y- self to my text, but shall treat of the subject at large, and shew you, as our time will allow, first, the crimes and miseries of a parent, who neglects the education of his family ; and secondly, the means of preventing them. We will direct our reflections so = that they may instruct not only heads of families, but all our hearers, and so that what we shall say on the edtication of children, by calling to mind the faults committed in our own, may enable us to correct them.
To neglect the education of our children is to be ungrateful to God, whose wonderful power created and preserved them. With what marvellous care doth
a kind
The fatal Co?iseqiwnces of a bad Education* 29
a kind providence watch over the formation of our infants, and adjust all the different parts of their bodies ?
With what marveUous care doth a kind providence provide for their hrst wants : for at first they are like those idols, of which the prophet speaks, they have eyes and see not^ they have ears and hear not, they have feet and cannot walk. Frail, iniirm, and incapable of providing for their wants, they find a sufficient supply in those feelings of humanity and tenderness with which nature inspires all humankind. VVlio can help admiring that, at a time when infants have nothing that can please, God enables them to move the com- passion of their parents, and to call them to their suc- cour by a language more eloquent and more pathetic than the best studied discourses ?
With what marvellous care doth a kind providence preserve them amidst a multitude of accidents, which seem to conspire together to snatch them away in their tenderest infancy, and in all their succeeding years ? Who but a being Almighty and ali-merciful could preserve a machine so brittle, at a time when the least shock would be sufficient to destroy it ?
With what astonishing care doth a kind providence provide for those wants, which old age incapacitates us to supply ? Who can shut his eyes against all these wonders without sinking into the deepest stupidity, and without exposing himself to the greatest misery.
To neglect the education of our children is to refuse to retrench that depravity which we communicated t. - them. Suppose the scriptures had not spoken expressly on the subject of original depravity, yet it would argue great stupidity to question it. As soon as infants dis cover any signs of reason, they discover signs of de- pravity, and their malice appears as their ideas unfold themselves. Sin in them is a fire at first concealed, nex x. emitting a few sparks, and at last bursting into a great blaze, unless it be prevented m time. "\'\nience do they derive so great an infection ? Can we doubt it,
my
30 The fatal Consequences of a bad Education.
yny brethren ? They derive it from us, and by com- mimicating our nature we communicate our depravity. It is impossible, being our children, that they should not be depraved, as we are, for, to use the language of scripture, t\itiv fathei^s are Amorites and their mothers are Hittites, Ezek. xvi. 13. Here I wish I could give you some notion of this mortifying mystery ; I wish I could remove the difficulties which prevent your seeing it ; I wish I could shew you what a union there is between the brain of an infant and that of its mo- ther, in order to convince you that sin passes from the parent to the child.
What I can we in cool blood behold our children in an abyss, into which we have plunged them ; can vv^e be sensible that we have done this evil, and not endeavour to relieve them ? Not being able to make them innocent, shall we not endeavour to render them penitent ? Ah I victims of my depravity, unhappy heirs of the crimes of your parents, innocent creatures born only to suffer, methinks, I ought to reproach myself for all the pains you feel, all the tears you shed, and all the sighs you utter. Methinks, every time you cry, you reprove me for my insensibility and in- justice. At least, it is right, that, as I acknowledge myself the cause of the evil, I should employ myself in repairing it, and endeavour to renew your nature by endeavouring to renew my own.
This reflection leads us to a third. To neglect the education of our children is to be wanting in that tejt- derness^ which is so much their due. What can we do for them ? What inheritance can ^^e transmit to them ? Titles ? They are often nothing but empty sounds without meaning and reality. Riches? They often make themselves icings ami fly away. Pro v. xxiii. 5. Honours ? They are often mixed with disagreeable circumstances, which poison all the pleasure. It is a religious education, piety and the fear of God, that
makes
The fatal Cmisequences of a bad Education, ^1
makes the fairest inheritance, the noblest successioi^; that we can leave our families.
If any worldly care may lawfully occupy the mind of a dying parent, when in his last moments the soul seems to be called to detach itself from every worldly concern, and to think of nothing but eternity, it is that which hath our children for its object. A Chris- tian in such circumstances finds his heart divided be- tween the family, which he is leaving in the world, and the holy relations, which he is going to meet in heaven. He feels himself pressed by turns between a desire to die, which is most advantageous for him; and a wish to live, which seems most beneficial to his family. He says, / a?n in a strait betwixt two, having a desire to depart, and to be with Christ, which is far bet- ter ; nevertheless to abide in the flesh is more needful for you, Phil. i. 23, 24. We are terrified at that crowd of dangers, in which we leave these dear parts of our- selves. The perils seem to magnify as we retire from the sight of them. One while we fear for their health, another while we tremble for their salvation. My brethren, can you think of any thing more proper to prevent or to pacify such emotions than the practice of that duty which we are now pressing as absolutely necessary ? A good father on his death-bed puts on the same dispositions to his children as Jesus Christ adorned himself with in regard to his disciples im- mediately before the consummation of that great sa- crifice, which he was about to offer to the justice of his Father. The soul of our divine Savibur was af- fected with the dangers to which his dear disciples were going to be exposed. Against these gloomy thoughts he opposed two noble reflections. First, he remembered the care, which he had taken of them, and the great principles which he had formed iA their minds ; and secondly, he observed that shadow of the Almighty , under which he had taught them to abide, Fsal. xci. 1 . 7 have rrumifested thy name unto the men
ithich
32 The fatal Consequences of a bad Education,
which thou gavest me. While I was with them in the world, I kept tJiem in thy name, and none of them is lost but the son of perdition. They are not of the luorld, even as I am not of the world, John xvii. 6, 12, 1 6. This is the first reflection. " Now I am no more in the world, but these are in the world, and I come to thee. Holy Father, keep through thine own name those whom thou hast given me, that they may be one, as we are. I pray not that thou shouldst take them out of the world, but that thou shouldst keep them from the evil. Sanctify them through thy truth, thy word is truth. Father, I will that they also, whom thou hast given me, be with me where I am," ver. 11, 15, 17. This is the second reflection.
These two reflections are impenetrable shields, and a parent should never separate them. Would you be in a condition to oppose the second of these shields against such attacks as the gloomy thoughts just now mentioned will make upon your hearts on that day, in which you quit the world and leave your children in it ? endeavour now to arm yourself with the first. Would you have them abide under the shadow of the Al- mighty P Inculcate his fear and his love in their hearts. Would you be able to say as Jesus Christ did, *' Holy Father, I will that they whom thou hast given me be with me, that they may behold thy glory ; keep thera through thy name ?" Put yourself now into a condition tio enable you then to say to God as Christ did, / have given them thy ivordr they are not of the luorld, even as I am not of the ivorld.
To neglect the education of our children is to let loose madmen against the state, instead of furnishing it with good ritlers or good subjects » That child in- tended for the church, what will he become, if he be not animated with such a spirit as ought to enliven a minister of religion ? He will turn out a trader in sacred things, and prove himself a spy in our families, a fomenter of faction in the state, who, under pre- teace of glorifying God, will s«t the world on fire.
That
The fatal Consequences of a bad Education, 33
That other child intended for the bar, what will he become, unless as much pains be taken to engage him to love justice as to make him know it, or to make him not disguise it as w^ell as understand it ? He will prove himself an incendiary, who w^ill sow seeds of division in families, render law-suits eternal, and reduce to indigence and beggary even those clients, whose causes he shall have art enough to gain. And that child, whom you have rashly determined to push into the highest offices of state without forming in him such dispositions as are necessary to eminent posts, what will he become ? A foolish or a partial judge, who will pronounce on the fortunes and lives of his. fellow citizens just as chance or caprice may impel him : a public blood-sucker, who will live upon the blood and substance of those vv^hom he ought to sup- port : a tyrant, who will rase and depopulate the Yery cities and provinces which he ought to defend.: r ^;;:i The least indulgence of the bad inclinatioftgr^vof children sometimes produces the most fatalr effect^ in society. This is exemplified in the life of D^vid, w^hose memory may truly be reproached on this arti- cle, for he was one of the most w^eak of all parents. Observe his indulgence of Amnon. It produced in- cest. Remark his indulgence of Absalom, who be- sought him to allow his brethren to partake of a feast, which he had prepared. It produced an assassination. See his weak fondness of the same Absalom, vA\q en- deavoured to make his way to the throne by mean and clownish manners affecting to shake hands with the Israelites and to embrace and kiss them (these are the terms of scripture,) and practising all such po- pular airs as generally precede and predict sedition. This produced a civil w^ar. Kemark how he indulged Adonijah, who made himself chariots, and set up a retinue of fifty men. The sacred historian tells us, that hisfatJier had not displeased hi/n at any ti/ne, in sai/-
34 The fatal Comequences of a bad Education*
mg, why hast thou done so P 1 Kings i. 6. This pro- duced an usurpation of the throne and the crown.
To neglect the education of your children is to fur- nish them with arms against yourselves. You com- plain that the children, whoin you have brought up with so much tenderness, are the torment of your life, that they seem to reproach you for living so long, and that, though they have derived their being and support from you, yet they refuse to contribute the least part of their superfluities to assist and comfort you. You ought to find fault with yourselves, for their depravity is a natural consecpaence of such principles as you have taught them. Had you accustomed them to respect order, they would not now refuse to conform to or- der : but they would perform the greatest of all duties ; they would be the strength of your weak- ness, the vigour of your reason, and the joy of your old age.
To neglect the education of children is to prepare torments for 2, future state ^ the bare apprehension cf which must give extreme pain to every heart capable of feeling. It is beyond a doubt, that remorse is one of the chief punishments of the damned, and who can question, whether the most excruciating remorse Avill be excited by this thought ; I have plunged my chiU dren into this abyss, into which I have plunged myself?
Imagine a parent of a family discovering among the crowd of reprobates a son, whom he himself led thither, and who addresses to him this terrible lan- guage. " Barbarous father, what animal appetites, or what worldly views inclined you to give me existence, to what a desperate condition have you reduced me ? See, wretch that you are, see these flames which burn and consume me. Observe this thick smoke which suffocates me. Behold the heavy chains with which I am loaded down. These are the fatal consequen- ces of the principles ypu gave me. Was it not enougk
to
The fatal Conseque7ices of a bad Education,
o:y
to bring me into the world a sinner, was it necessary to put me in arms against Almighty God ? Was it not enough to communicate to me natural depravity, must you add to that the venom of a pernicious education ? Was it not enough to expose me to the misfortunes inseparable from life, must you plunge me into those- which follow death? Return me, cruel parent, re- turn me to nothing, whence you took me. Take from me the fatal existence you gave me. Shew me moun- tains and hills to fall on me, and hide me from the anger of my judge ; or, if that divine vengeance which pursues thee, wdll not enable thee to do so, I myself will become thy tormentor ; I will for ever present myself, a frightful spectacle before thine eyes, and by those eternal bowlings, wdiich I will in- cessantly pour into thine ears, I will reproach thee, through all eternity I v*dll reproach thee, with my misery and despair."
Let us turn our eyes from these gloomy images, let us observe objects more worthy of the majesty of this place, and the holiness of our ministry. To re- fuse to dedicate our children to God by a religious edu- cation, is to refuse those everlasting pleasures, v/hich as much surpass our thoughts as our expressions.
It is a famous question in the schools, whether we shall remember in heaven the connections wx had in. this world ? Whether glorified spirits shal Jknow one another ? Whether a father will recollect his son, or a son his father ? And so on. I will venture to affirm, that they who have taken the affirmative side, and they who have taken the negative on this question, have often done so without any reason.
On the one side, the first have pretended to establisli their thesis on this, principle, that something would be wanting to our happiness, if we were not to know i-n a future stat<i those persons, with whom w^e had been united by the tenderest connections in this present world.
On
Ij6 The fatal Conseque?ices of a had Education,
On the other hand, if we know, say the partizans of the opposite opinion, the condition of our friends in a future state, how will it be possible, that a parent should be happy in the possession of a heaven, in which his children have no share ; and how can he possibly relish pleasure at the right hand of God, while he revolves this dreadful thought in his mind, my children are now, and will for ever be tormented with the devil ?
It should seem, the proof and the objection are equally groundless. The enjoyment of God is so suf- ficient to satiate a soul, that it cannot be considered as necessary to the happiness of it to renew such connections as were formed during a momentary passage through this world. I oppose this against the argument for the lirst opinion : and I oppose the same against the objec- tion, ibr the enjoyment of God is every way so sufficient to satiate a soul, that it can love nothing but in God, and that its felicity cannot be altered by the miseries of those with whom there wdll then be no connection.
A consideration of another kind has always made me incline to the opinion of those who take the affir- mative side of this question. The perfections of God are here concealed under innumerable veils. How often does he seem to countenance iniquity by granting a profusion of favours to the contrivers of the most infernal schemes ? How often doth he seem to declare himself against innocence by the misfor- tunes, which he leaves the innocent to suffer ? How often have we seen tyrants on a throne, and good peo- ple in irons? Doth not this awful phenomenon fur- nish us with an irrefragable argument for the doctrine of a general judgment and a future state ? Which of your preachers hath not frequently exhorted you to judge nothing before the time, 1 Cor. iv. 5. at the end of time Cometh the restitution of all things, Acts iii. 21. which will justify providence ?
' Now, it should seem, this argument, which none
but
The fatal Consequences of a bad Education. 37
but infidels and libertines deny, and wiiich is gene- rally received by all Christians, and by all philosophers, this ai^ument, 1 say, tavouis, noc to say establishes in an incontestible manner, tiie opinion of those who think that the saints will know one another in the next lite. Without this how could we acquiesce in the justice of the sentence, which will then be pro- nounced on all? Observe St Paul, whose ministry was continually counteracted. What motive supported him under so much opposition ? Certainly it was the expectation of seeing one day with his own eyes the conquests which he obtained for Jesus Christ ; souls which he had plucked out of the jaws of Satan ; be- lievers whom he had guided to eternal happiness. Hear what he said to the Thessalonians, JVhat is our hope^ or joy ^ or crown of rejoicing'? Are not even ye in the presence of our Lord Jesus Christ at his coming F For ye are our glory and joy, chap. ii. IQ, 20.
Now, this is the hopc^ this is the croivn^ which I pro- pose to you, heads of families, to engage you to de- dicate your children to God by a religious education.
It was this thought which supported one of the v/isest of the heathens against the fears of death, I mean Cato of Utica. No man had a greater affection for a son, than he had for his. No man bore the loss with greater firmness and magnanimity. *' O happy day, when I shall quit this wretched crowd, and join that divine and happy company of noble souls, who have quitted the world before me I I shall there meet not only these illustrious personages, but my dear Cato, "1^0, I will venture to say, was one of the best of men, of the best natural dispositions, and the most punctual in the discharge of his duties, that ever was. I have put his body on the funeral pile, whereas he should have placed mine there : but his soul hath not left me, and he hath only stepped first into a country where I shall soon join him.^' ^
If this hope made so great an impression on the mind of a pagan, what ought it not to produce in the
heart
38 The fatal Consequences of a bad Education.
heart of a Christian ? What infinite pleasure, when the voice shall cry, Arise ye dead, to see those children whom God gave you ? What superior delight, to be- hold those whom an immature death snatched from us, and the loss of whom had cost us so many tears ? W^hat supreme satisfaction, to embrace those who closed our eyes, and performed the last kind office^ for us ? O the unspeakable joy of that Christian father, who shall walk at the head of a Christian family, and present himself with all his happy train before Jesus Christ, offering to him hearts worthy to serve such a master, and saying to him, behold me, and the childreti which God hath given me, Heb. ii. 13.
We have been speaking of the fatal consequences of an irreligious education ; and now we wish we could put you all into a condition tp prevent them. But, alas I how can son^e of you reduce our exhorta- tions to practice ? you disconsolate fathers, you dis- tressed mothers, from whom persecution has torn away these dear parts of yourselves, ye weeping Da- vids, ye mourning Rachels, who, indeed, do not weep because your children are not, but because, though they are, and though you gave them existence, you cannot give them a religious education ? Ah ! how can you obey our voice ? Who can calm the cruel fears, which by turns divide your souls ? What re- sults from all the conflicts, which pass within you, and which rend your hearts asunder ? Will you go and expose yourselves to persecution ? Will you leave your children alone to be persecuted? Will you obey the voice that coiTinvdnds, flee out of Babylon^ and deli- ver every maji Jm own soul, Jer. 1. 6. or that which cries, Tahe the youp g cJiild P Matth. ii. 20. O dreadful iilternative ! Must you be driven, in some sort, to make an option between their salvation and yours, must you sacrifice yours to theirs or theirs to your own ?
Ah! cruel problem I Inhuman suspence I Thou iyrant, is not thy rage sufficiently glutted by destroy- ing!:
The fatal Consequences of a bad Education, 39
ing our material temples, must you lay your barba- jous hands on the temples of the Holy Ghost ? Is it not enough to plunder us of our property, must you rob us of our families ? Is it not enough to render life bitter, would you make eternity desperate and in- tolerable ?
But, it is not to tyrants that we address ourselves, they are inaccessible to our voice, or inflexible to our complaints. It is to God alone, who turns them as he thinks proper, that we address our prayers. Ha- gar found herself banished into a desert, and she had •nothing to support her but a few pieces of bread, and a bottle of water. The water being spent, her dear Ishmael was ready to die with thirst. She laid him under a bush, and only desired that she might not see him die. She rambled to some distance, wept as she went, and said, Let me not see the death of the childy Gen. xxi. I6, &c- See, she cannot help it, she sits over against him, lifts up her voice, and weeps, God heard the voice of the mother and the child, and, by an angel, said unto her, what aileth thee, H agar F fear not, for God hath heard the voice of the lad. Arise, take hold of his hand, and lift him up, for I ivill make him a great nation. See what a source of consolation I open to you I Lift up the voice and weep. O Father of spirits, God of the Spirits of all flesh, Heb, xiL Q. Numb. xvi. 22. Thou Supreme, whose essence is love, and whose chief character is mercy, thou who wast touched to see Nineveh repent, and wlio vvouldst not involve in the general destruction the many infants at nurse in that city, ivlw could not discern between their right hand and their left, John iv. i 1 . wilt not thou regard with eyes of affection and pity our numerous chil- dren, who cannot discern truth from error, who <*annot believe, because they have not heard, who can not hear ivithout a preacher, and to v/hom, alas I no preacher is ^^^;?i^ .<? Rom. x. I4.
But you happy fathers, you, mothers, favourites of
I heaveu
40 The fatal Consequences of a bad Education,
heaven, who assemble your children around you sls as a hen gatheretli her chickens under her wings^ Matt, xxiii. 37, can you neglect a duty, which is impracticable to others ? That tyrants and persecutors should display their fury by making havoc of our children, and by oflering them to the devil, is, I allow, extremely shocking, but there is nothing in it very wonderful : but that Christian fathers and mothers should conspire together in such a tragical design would be a spectacle incomparably more shocking, and the horror of which the blackest colours are unable to pourtray.
How forcible soever the motives, which we have alleged, may be, I fear they will be ineffectual, and such as will not influence the greatest part of you. It must be allowed, that, if there be any case, to which the words of our Saviour are applicable, it is this of which we are speaking, " strait is the gate, and nar- row is the way, which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it," Matt. vii. 14.
A reformation of the false ideas which you form on the education of children, is, so to speak, the first step which you ought to take in the road set before you this day. No, it is not such vague instructions as you give your children, such superficial pains as you take to make them virtuous, such general exhortations as you address to them, is it not all this, that constitutes such a religious education as God requires you to give them. JEntertain notions more rational, and remem- ber the few ma^xims^ which I am going to propose to you as the conclusion of this discourse.
Yirst maxim. Delays, always dangerous in cases of practical religion, are peculiarly fatal in the case of education. As soon as children see the light, and begin to think and reason, we should endeavour to form them to piety. Let us place the fear of God in these young hearts, before the world can get posses- sion of them, before the power of habit be united to that of x^onstitution. Let us avail ourselves of the
2 flexibilitv
TJie fatal Consequences of a bad Education. 41
flexibility of their organs, the fidelity of their memo-- ries, and the facility of their conceptions, to render their duty pleasing to them by the ease with which they are taught to discharge it.
Second maxim. Although the end of the divers me-^' thods of educating children ought to be the same, yet it should be varied according to their -dilTerent characters. Let us stuay our children with as much application as we have studied ourselves. Both thes:e studies are attended with difficulties ; and as self-love often prevents our knowing ourselves, so a natural fondness for our children renders it extremely diffi- cult for us to discover their propensities.
Third maxim, A procedure, wise in itself, and proper to inspire children with virtue, may sometimes be rendered useless by symptoms of passions, with which it is accompanied. V¥e cannot educate them well without a prudent mixture of severity and gen- tleness. But on the one hand, what success can we expect from gentleness, if they discover, that it is not the fruit of our care to reward what in them is worthy of reward, but of a natural inclination, which we have not the courage to resist, and which makes us yield more to the motions of our animal machine, than to the dictates of reason ? On the other hand, what good can they derive from our severity, if they see, that it proceeds from humour and caprice more than from our hatred to sin, and our desire to free them from it ? If cur eyes sparkle, if we take a high tone of voice, if our mouths froth, when we chastise them, what good can come of such chastisements }
Fourth maxim. The best means of procuring a good education lose all their force, unless they be supported by the examples of such as employ thenl. Example is always a great motive, and it is especially such to youth. Children know how to imitate before they can speak, before they can reason, and, so to speak, before they are born. In their mothers vvombs,
VOL. V. ' D at
42 The fatal Consequences of a had Educaiion ,
at the breasts of their nurses, they receive i-mprest^. sipns from exterior objects, and take the forna*>Qf aHc that strikes them. What success, miserable mother, can you expect from your exhortations to piety, while your children see you yourself all taken up with theju world, and its amusements and pleasures ; passing ^^^ great part of your life in gaming, and in forming cri- minal intrigues, which, far from hiding from youd-M family, you expose to the sight of all mankind ? What success can you expect from your exhortations to your children, you wretched father, when they hear yott blaspheme your Creator, and see you living in debaur; chery, drowning your reason in wine, and gluttony, andti so on ?
Fiflh maii/n. A liberty, innocent when it is taken before men, becomes criminal, when it is taken, befoug^t tender minds, not yet formed. What circumspec- tion, what vigilance, I had almost said, w hat niceties doth this maxim engage us to observe ? Certaia- words spoken, as it were, into the air, certain imper- ceptible allusions, certain smiles, escaping before a child, and which he hath not been taught to suspect, are sometimes snares more fatal to his innocence than the most profane discourses, yea they are often jTiOre dangerous than the most pernicious examples, lor them he hath been taught to abhor.
Sixth 7naxim. The indefatigable pams, which we ought always to take in educating our children, ought to be redoubled on these decisive events, which influence both the present life, and the future state. For ex- ample, the kind of life to which v/e devote them, is one of these decisive events. A good father regulates his views in this respect, not a<:cording to a rash deter- mination made when the child was in the cradle, but according to observations deliberately made on the abilities and manners of the child.
Companions too are to be considered as deciding on the future condition of a child. A good father with
this
The fatal Coiisequolces of a bad Education, 4S'"
tliis view will choose such societies as will second his own endeavours, he will remember the maxim of St Paul, JEivil comrnunications corrupt good manners, 1 Cor. XV. 33. for he knows, that a dissolute companion hath often eradicated from the heart of a youth all the good seeds which a pious family had sown there.
Above all, marriage is one of these decisive steps in life. A good father of a family, unites his children to others by the two bonds of virtue and religion. How can an intimate union be formed with a person of impious principles, without familiarizing the vir- tuous by degrees with impiety, without losing by little and little that horror which impiety would inspire, and without imbibing by degrees the same spirit ? So necessary is a bond of virtue. That of re- ligion is no less so, for the crime which drew the most cutting reproofs upon the Israelites after the captivity, and which brought upon them the greatest judgments, was that of contracting marriages with v/omen not in the covenant. Are such marriages less odious now, when by a profane mixture people unite light and darkness, Christ and Belial, the temple of God and idols P 2 Cor. vi. I4, 15. Are such marriages less hateful now, when, by a horrible partition, the children, if there be any, are m^utually ceded before hand, and in cool blood disposed of thus, the sons shall be taught the truth, the daughters shall be edu- cated in error, the boys shall be for heaven, the girls for hell, a son for God, a daughter for the devil.
Seventh maxim-. The best means for the education of children must be accompanied with fervent prayer. If you have paid any attention to the maxims we have proposed, I shall not be surprised to hear you exclaim, IVhois sufficient fir these things? 2 Cor. ii. I6. But, if it be the fear of not succeeding in educating your children, which dictates this language, 9'i:l not that indolence, which tries to get rid of the labour, be you fully persuaded, that the grace of God will^
triumph
44 The fatal Consequence^' of a bad Education^
triumph over your great infirmities. Let us address to him the most fervent prayers for the happiness of those children, who are so dear to us, and let us be- lieve that they will return in benedictions upon them. Let each parent collect together all his piety, and then let him give himself up to the tenderest emo- tions towards his children. O God ! who didst pre- sent thyself to us last Lord's day under the amiable idea of a parent pitying them that fear thee as a father pitieth his children^, Psal. ciii. I3. O God I who thy- self lovest thy Son with infinite tenderness and vehe- mence : O God I author of the tender affections, which unite me to the children thou hast given me, bless the pains I take in their education ; disobedient children, my God, I disow^n : let me see them die in infancy, rather than go along w ith the torrent of ge- neral immorality, and run, with the children of the world to their excess of riot, 1 Pet. iv. 4' I pray for their sanctification wdth an ardour a thousand times more vehement than I desire their fortune : and the first of all my wishes is to be able to present them to thee on that great day, when thou wait pronounce the doom of all mankind, and to say to thee then. Lord, behold, here am I, and the children thou hast give?! me. May God excite such prayers, and answer them I To him be honour and glory for ever. Amen.
* See the seventh Sermon of the first Volume.
SERMOK
SERMON ir,
General Mistakes.
Romans xii. 2. Be 7iot conformed to this world.
OF all the discourses delivered in this pulpit thos^ which deserve the greatest deference, and usually obtaui the least, are such as treat of general mis- takes. What subjects require a greater deference? Our design in treating of them is to dissipate those il- lusions, with which the w^iole world is familiar, which are authorized by the multitude, and which like epidemical diseases, inflicted sometimes by pro- vidence on public bodies, involve the state, the church, and individuals. Yet are any discourses less respected than such as these ? To attack general mis« takes is to excite the displeasure of all who favour them, to disgust a whole auditory, and to acquire the most odious of all titles, I mean that of pubHc censor. A preacher is then obliged to choose, either never to attack such mistakes as the multitude think lit to authorize, or to renounce the advantages which he may promise himself, if he adapt his sub- jects to the taste of his auditors, and touch their dis- orders only so far as to accommodate their crimes to their conscieuces.
Let us not hesitate what part to take. St Paul de- termines us by his example. I am going to-day, in imitation of this apostle, to guard you against the
rocks ;
46 General Mistakes,
rocks, where the many are shipwrecked. He exhoi ts us, in the words of the text, not to take tJie wot Id for a model I the world, that is the crowd, the multi- tude, society at large. But what society hath he in view ? Is it that of ancient Ptome, which he describes as extremely depraved in the beginning of this epistle? Does he say nothing of our world, our cities and provinces ? We are going to examine this, and I fear 1 shall be able to prove to you, that our multitude is a dangerous guide to shew^ us tlie way to heaven ; and, to confine ourselves to a fcw^ articles, I shall prove that thej are bad guides to direct us, first, in regard to faith, — secondly, in regard to the worship which God requires of us : — thirdly, in regard to morality ;-^ and lastly, in regard to the hour of death. In these four views I shall enforce the w^ords of my text, Be not coji- formed to this tvorld. This is the whole plan of this discourse.
I. The multitude is a bad guide to direct o\xi faith. We will not introduce here the famous controversy on this question, whether a great number form a pj'e- suraption in favour of any religion^ or whether uni- versality be a certain evidence of the true Christian church ? How often has this question been debated and determined I How often have we proved agaiiist one community, which displays the number of its professors with so much parade, that, if the pretence were well-founded, it would operate in favour of paganism, for pagans were always more numei-ous than Christians I How often have we told them, that in divers periods of the ancient chuj'ch idolatry and idolaters have been enthroned in both the kingdoms of Judah and Israel ! How often have we alleged, that in the time of Jesus Christ the clmrch was de- scribed as a littk fock, Luke xii. 32. that heathens and Jevvs v. ere all in league against Christianity at first, and that the gospel had only a small number of dis- ciples!
'General Mistakes, 47
€iples ! How often have we retorted, that for whole centuries there was no trace, no shadow of the opinions of modern Rome ! But we will not apply ourselves to this controversy to-day by fixing your attention on the sophisms of foreigners, perhaps we might divert your eyes from your own ; by shewing you our triumphs over the vain attacks made on us by the enemies of the reformation, perhaps we might turn away your attention from other more dangerous wounds, which the reformed themselves aim at the heart of religion. When I say the multitude is a bad guide in matters of faith, I mean, that the mxanner in which most men adhere to truth, is not by principles which ought to attach them to it, but by a spirit of negligence and prejudice.
If is no small work to examine the truth, when we arrive at an age capable of discussion. The fundamicn- tal points of religion, I grant, lie in the scriptures clear and perspicuous, and within the comprehension of all who choose to attend to them : but when we pass from infancy to manhood, and arrive at an age in which reason seems mature, we find ourselves covered vv^ith a veil, which either hides objects from us, or disfigures them. The public discourses we have heard in fa- vour of the sect, in which v/e were educated, the in- veterate hatred we have for all others, who hold prin- ciples opposite to ours, the frightful portraits that are drawn before our eyes of the perils yvq must en- counter, if w^e depart from the way we have been brought up in, the impressions made upon us by the examples and decisions of our parents, and masters, and teachers, the bad taste of those who had the care of our education, and who prevented our acquiring that most noble disposition, without which it is im- possible ever to be a true philosopher, or a real Christian, T mean that of suspending our judgment on subjects not sufficiently proved ; from all this arise clouds that render the truth inaccessible, and which the world can-
4^ General Mistakes,
not dissipate. We do not say, that natural talents, cr supernatural assistance are wanting; we are fully con- vinced that God will never give up to final error any man who does all in his power to understand the truth. But the world are incapable of this work. Why? Be- cause all the world, except a few, hate labour and me- ditation in regard to the subjects which respect ano- ther life ; because all the vrorld would choose rather to attach themselves to what regards their temporal interests than to the great interest of eternal happiness : because all the world like better to suppose the prin- ciples imbibed in their childhood true, than to impose en themselves the task of weighing them anew in the balance of a sound and severe reason : because all the world have an invincible aversion to suppose, that when they are arrived at manhood they have almost lost their time in some respects, and that when they leave school they begin to be capable of instruction.
If the nature of the thing cannot convince you, that the multitude continue through negligence in the pro- fession of that religion in which they were born, ex- perience may here supply the place of reasoning. There is an infinite variety of geniuses among mankind. Pro- pose to an assembly a question, that no system hath yet decided, and you will find, as it is usually said, as many opinions as heads.
It is certain, if mankind were attached to a religion only because they had studied it, we should find a great number of people forsake that in which they had been brought up, for it is impossible, that a whole society should unite in one point of error, or rather, it is clear to a demonstration, that as truth hath certain charac- ters superior to falsehood, the temples of idols would be instantly deserted, erroneous sects would be soon aban- doned, the religion of Jesus Christ, the only one wor- thy of being embraced, the only one that deserves dis- ciples, would be the only one embraced, and would alone be received by all sincere disciples of truth.
Do
General Mistakes. 49
Do not think, my brethren, that this reflection con- cerning that spirit of negligence, which retains most men in a profession of their own reUgion, regards only such communions as lay down their own infallibility for a fundamental article of faith, and which prescribe ignorance and blind submission as a first principle to their partizans, for it is but too easy to prove, that the same spirit of negligence reigns in all communities. Hence it comes to pass, that in general so few Christians can render a reason for their faith. Hence it is that peo- ple are usually better furnished with arguments to op- pose such societies as surround them than with those which establish the fundamental truths of Christianity. If then you follow the direction of the multitude in the study of religion, you will be conducted by a spirit of negligence, prejudice will be held for proof, educa-^ tion for argument, and the decisions of your parents and teachers for infallible oracles of truth.
n. The multitude is a bad guide in regard to that um^ship, which God requireth of us, they defile it with a spirit of superstition. Superstition is a disposition of mind, that inclines us to regulate all parts of divine worship, not by just notions of the Supreme Being, nor by his relations to us, nor by what he has conde- scended to reveal, but by our own fancies. A super- stitious man entertains fantastical ideas of God, and renders to him capricious v/orship; he not unfrequent- ly takes himself for a model of God ; he thinks that what most resembles himself, however mean and con- temptible, approaches nearest to perfection. We af- firm, this disposition is almost universal.
It would be needless to prove this to you, my breth- ren, in regard to erroneous communities. Were superstition banished from the world, we should not see men, who are made in the image of God, disgrace their nature by prostrating themselves before idols, and marmosets, so as to render religious honours to
half
^Q General Mistakes.
half a block of wood or stone, the other half of which they apply to the meanest purposes : we should not see a crowd of idolaters performing a ceremonial, in which conviction of mind hath no part, and which is all ex- ternal and material : we should not see a concourse of people receiving with respect, as the precious blood of the Saviour of the world, a few drops of putrified water, which the warmth of the sun hath produced by fermentation in the tiunK of a decayed tree : we should nuc see pilgrims in procession mangling their fiesh in the streets, dragging along heavy loads, howl- ing in the high- ways, and taking such absurd prac- tices for that repentance, which breaks the heart, and transforms and renews the life. You will easily grant all this, for I have observed, it is often less difiicult to inspire you with horror for these practices, than to excite compassion in you for such as perform them.
But you ought to be informed, that there are other superstitions less gross, and therefore more dangerous. Among us we do not put a worship absolutely foreign to the purpose in the place of that which God hath commanded and exemplified to us, but we make an estimate of the several parts of true worship. These estim.ates are regulated by opinions formed through prejudice or passion. What best agrees with our in- clinations we consider as the essence of religion, and what would thwart and condemn them we think cir- cumstantial.
We make a scruple of not attending a sermon, not keeping a festival, not receiving the Lord's supper, but we make none of neglecting to visit a prisoner, to comfort the sick, to plead for the oppressed. We ob- serve a strict decency in our religious assemblies while our ministers address prayer to God, but we take no pains to accompany him with our m^nds and hc?.rts, to unite our ejaculations with his to besiege the throne of grace. We think it a duty to join our voices witlt those of a whole conf^regation, and to fill our ]>]aCe^
of
General Mistakes, 51
of worship with the praises of our Creator, but we do nat think ourselves obliged to understand the sense of the psalm, that is sung with so much fervour, and, in the language of an apostle, to sing ivith understandings 1 Cor. xiv. 15. We lay aside innocent occupations the day before we receive the Lord's supper, but no sooner do we return from that ordinance than we allow^ the most criminal pleasures, and enter upon the most scan- dalous intrigues. Who make these mistakes, my breth- ren ? Is it the few ? J^e not conformed to this worlds in regard to the w^orship that God recj[uires of you, the multitude perform it in a spirit of superstition.
III. Neither are the many a better guide in regard to morality. Here, my brethren, wx are going more particularly to describe that class of mankind, among which we live, and of which we ourselves are a part. Indeed, the portraits w-e are going to draw will not be flattering to them, for justice requires, that wc should describe men as they are, not as they pretend to be. In order to exactness Jet us consider them separately and apart. First, In regard to the masters who govern them . Secondly, In regard to the professions, which they ex- ercise. Thirdly, In regard to some maxims generally received, Fourthly, In regard to the splendid actions which they celebrate. And lastly, In regard to certain decisive occasions, that like touchstones discover tlieir principles and motives.
1. Consider mankind in regard to the masters who govern them. FIcre I congratulate myself on the happiness of speaking to a free people, among whom it is not reputed a crime to praise what is praise worthy, and to blame what deserves blame, and where we may freely trace the characters of some men of whom pru- dence requires us not to speak evil, no not hi thongJit, no not in the bedchaniher, lest abird of the air should carry the voice, a?id that tvhich hath teifigs should tell the matter^
Eccles.
52 Ge^ieral Mistakes.
Eccles. X. 20. Is it in the palaces of the great that humility reigns, humility which so well become crea- tures, who though crowned and enthroned are yel in- firm, criminal, dying creatures, and who in a few days will become food for worms, yea perhaps victims in the flames of hell ? Is it in the palaces of the great that uprightness, good faith and sincerity reign, yet w ithout these society is nothing but a banditti, treaties are only snares, and laws cobwebs, which, to use a well known expression, catch only weak insects, while the fierce and carnivarous break through : Is it in the palaces of the great that gratitude reigns, that lawful tribute due to every motion made to procure our hap- piness ? Is it there that the services of a faithful subject, the labours of an indefatigable merchant, the perils of an intrepid soldiery, blood shed and to be shed, are estimated and rewarded ? Is it there that the cries of the wretched are heard, tears of the oppressed wiped fiway, the claims of truth examined and granted ? Is it in the paliices of the great that benevolence reigns, that benevolence without which a man is only a wild beast? Is it there that the young raveiis which cry are heard and fed ? Psal. cxlvii. p. Is it there that they attend to the bitter complaints of an indigent man, ready to die with hunger, and who asks for no more than will just keep him alive? Are the palaces of the great seats of piety and devotion ? Is it there that schemes are formed for the reformation of manneis ? Is it there that they are grieved for the affliction cf Joseph^ Amos vi. 0. and take pleasure in the duat and stones of Zion? Psal. cii. 14. Is it there that we hear the praises of the Creator, do they celebrate the compassion of the Redeemer of mankind ? What ideas are excited in our minds by the names of such as Caligula, Nero, Dioclesian, Decius, names; detestable in all ages ? What ideas could we excite in your minds, were we to weigh in a just balance the virtues of such heroes as have been rendered famous! by the encomiums given them ? You would be asto^
nished
General Mistakes. 5 3
lUbhed to see that these men, who have heen called the delights of inankind, have often deserved execration, and ought to be considered witii horror. But 1 pur- ])Osely torbear, and will not put in this list all that ought to be placed there, that is to say, all those who have had sovereign power, except a very few, who in comparison are next to none, and who are, as it were, lost in the crowd among the rest. And yet the elevation of kings makes their crimes more com- municable, and their examples more contagious ; their sins become a filthy vapour infecting the air, and shedding their mahgnant iniiuence all over our cities and families, lightning, and thundering, and disturb- ing the world. Accordingly you see m general, thai what the king is in his kingdom, tlie governor is m. his province : what the governor is in his province, the nobleman is in his domain ; what the nobleman i:i in his domain, the master is in his family. The multi- tude is a bad guide, mankind are a dangerous model, considered in regard to the masters v/ho govern them. 2. Consider the many in regard to divers professirms. What is the profession of a soldier, particularly of an officer of rank in the army ? It is to defend society, to maintain religion, to be a parent to the soldiery, to bridle the licentiousness of arms, to oppose povrcr against injustice, to derive from all the viev/s of death that lie open before him, motives to preioare his accounts to produce before his judge. Sut what is the conduct of a soldier ? It is not to brave society ? Is it not to trample upon religion ? Is it not to set examples of debauchery, licentiousness and venge- ance ? Is it not to let out his .abilities, and to sacrifice his life to the most ambitious designs, and to the most bloody interprizes of princes? It is not to ac- custom himself to ideas of death and judgment till he laughs at both, to stifle all remorse, and to extirpate all the fears, which such obj»?cts naturally excite in The consciences of other men.^
Whai:
54 ' Gemrul Mistakes.
What is the j^rofession of a judge ? It is to have no regard to the appearances of men, it is to he aiFahle to all who appeal to authority, to study with appli- cation the nature of a cause which he is obliged to decide, it is patiently to go through the most fatiguing details of proofs and objections. But what is often the conduct of a Judge ? Is it not to ' be struck with the exterior ditFerence of two parties appearing before him I Is it not to be inaccessible to the poor, to invent cruel reserves, and intolerable delays ? Is it not to grovel in ignorance, and to hate study and la- bour.
What is tliC profession of a man learned in the law r It is to devote his service only to truth and justice, to plead only a good cause, to assist even those who can- not reward his labours. What is the conduct of counsel ? Is it not to support both the true and the false, and to maintain by turns both justice and ini- quity ? Is it not to adjust his efforts to his own glory, or to his client's ability to pay ?
What is the profession of a merchant ? It is to detest false vv^eights and measures, to pay his dues, and never to found his fortune on falsehood, fraud and perjury. But what is the conduct of a merchant ? Is it not to use false weights and measures ? Is it not to cheat the state of its dues .^ Is it not to indulge an insa- tiable avidity ? Is it not to enrich himself by telling untruths, by practising frauds, by taking false oaths?
What is the profession of a minister ? It is to de- vote himself wholly to truth and virtue, to ^et the whole church an example, to search into liospitals, and cottages, to relieve the. miseries of the sick and the poor ; it is to determine himself in his studies, not by what will acquire him reputation for learning and eloquence, but by what will be most useful to the people over vv^iom he is set;' it is to regulate his choice of subjects, not by v/hat will make hin:iseif shine, but by vv'hat v/ill most benefit the people among
whom
General Mistakes* 53
whoTii he exercises his ministry ; it is to take as much care of a dying person in an obscure family, lying on a bed of straw, lost in oblivion and silence, as of him, who with an illustrious name lives amidst silver and gold, and for whom the most magnilicent and pom- pous funeral honours will be prepared, it is to cry aloud, to lift up his voice like a trumpet, and shew the people their transgressions, and -the house of Israel their sins, Isa. Iviii. 1. Mic. iii. 8. and 2 Cor. v. 16. it is to knoie no man after the flesh w^hen he ascends the pul- pit, boldly to reprove vice, how eminent soever the seat of it may be. What is the usual conduct of a mi- nister? - OGod? Enter not into judgment with
thy servants, for we cannot ansiver one complaint of a thousand! Psal. cxliii. 2. Job ix. 3.
3. Consider the multitude in regard to some general maxims w^hich they adopt, and hold as rules and ap- proved axioms. Have you read in the gospel the following maxims ? Charity begins at home. Youth is a time of pleasure. It is allow^able to kill time. We should not ptetend to be saints. Slander is the salt of conversation. We must do as other people do.- It is unworthy of a man of honour to put up an affront. A gentleman ought to avenge himself. Ambition is the vice of great souls. Provided w^e commit no great crimes, we sufficiently answer our calling. Im.- purity is an intolerable vice in a woman, but it is- pardonable in a man. It would be easy to enlarge this catalogue. Whiclvof these maxims, pray, doth not sap some of the first principles of the rehgion of Jesus^ Christ ? Yet which of these maxims is not received in society as a fundamental rule of action, w^hich we^^ should be accounted singular and petulant to condemn?
4. Consider the multitude in regard to certain- actions, of which they lavish praise and write encomiums. We do not mean to speak at present of such crimes as the depravity of the world sometimes celebrates under the notions of heriocal actions. Our reflections is o^
another •1
5 G General Mistakes .
anotber kiiid. It is pretty clear, that depravity is general, and piety in the possession of. a yery <jtev\r, when persons of superficial knowledge are praised for the depth of their understanding, and when such as perform very small and inconsiderable actions of virtue are considered as the wonders of the world. Sometimes I hear the world exclaim, what benevo- lence I What liberality ! What generosity I I inquire for the evidences of these virtues, on which such la- vish encomiums are bestowed ; I expect to find another .St"^ Paul, who luisJwd himself accursed for his brethren., Horn. ix. 3. I hope to, meet with another Moses, pray- ing to be blotted out of the book of life rather than sec his nation perish, Exod. xxxii. 32. But no, this boasted generosity and charity is that of a man,: who distributed to the poor on one solemn occasion, oiiCe in his life, such a sum of money as he expends every day^m prodigality and superfluity. : It is that of a man, who bestows, on all the m-embers of Jesus, Christ almost as much as he does on tke walls of. a room, or the bar- , jaess; of a horse. I.hear the world .exclaim in some cir- .•Gimi stances, avhat friendship '..What tendeBness I I inquire for this tender,. 7.ealous, generous friend. I expect to.find such an:original-aS I have seen described in books, though I havjenevernietiwith such an one in society. J hope at least to see one example of a friend . saying to ..a dying man, appoint me your executor, and leave me your children to bring. tip, and your wi- dov/ to provide for. But no, I find nothing but the friendship of a man, who by improving the fortune of anotheii Attracts the idhiefaclvaaitages to himself. I hear the world exclaiming in certain circumstances, what virtue I What purity I What a mother of a fa- mily! Again lilook fortheebject of these encomiums. I hope to see sucha: w^oman as Solomon imagined, a mother of a family, who makes her house a house of God, and her children patterns of piety. But no, I meet with a woman, who indeed does not defile the
nuptial
3
General Mistakes. ^1
ivaptral bed, who only doth not outlive her income, and who teaches her children only the little course of domes- tic economy. All these actions are praise- worthy. All these examples ought to be imitated. But is there any ground for exclaiming as if virtue had been car- ried to its highest pitch ? Are these then such great etforts of religion ? Alas I My brethren, complete characters must need be very scarce in the world, since the world is in raptures on account of these im- perfect virtues : there must needs be a g»eat dearth of wise men in the world, since there is so much boasting of one man, who takes only one step in the path of w^isdom.
5. Consider mankind in regard to certain decisive occasions, w^hich like touchstones discover their hearts. We do not know ourselves, we form false ideas of ourselves, when our virtues have not been brought to the test. We imagine, we incline to be patient, cle- ment and charitable, in cases where we are not tried, where neither our fortune, nor our reputa- tion, nor our honour are affected : but the moment a stroke is aimed at any of these the countenance changes, the brain ferments, the mouth foams, and we breathe nothing but hatred and vengeance. No- thing is more common among us than to talk highly of justice, to detest and censure iniquity, and to engage ourselves inviolably to follow^ such rules of equity as are marked out in the divine law\ Let any man bring an action against us, with reason or with- out, and all these ideas vanish, we instantly become familiar with the very vices to which we thought we had an invincible aversion. We disguise our cause, we suppress unfavourable circumstances, we impose on our counsel, we try to take even the judges by surprise, we pretend to make great matters of the importance of our rank, the worth of our names, the credit of our families, the tone of our voices, and all this we w ]sh to incprporo te in our cause. A disinterested soirit
.TOT.. V, E ' is
oH General Mistakes,
}
is-.^Y^iys^the. mhject Q^ our utmost adniifation and prgise^.M A generous man is the admiration of all man- kmd, Ills noble actions unite all hearts, and every man is eager to give such actions their dignity and praise:*, but lio sooner have we a little business to do, m which we have no kind of interest, but disinterested- upss appears odious to us, and magnanimity seems to Vi§-more proper for a hero of a romance than for a man living and acting in society, and generous actions appear to us mere creatures of imagination. O how ^tle does the multitude deserve consideration in re- gar4 to^manners 1
^^.it^. iSTo more ought they to be imitated in regard to the manner, in which they quit the world. Here I foxesee, my brethren, you will ^11 side with one ano- ^^er against our doctrine, and that we shall be obliged |oJblame both persons and things about dying people; sqLich as are dying, such ?.s surround them, such as visit them ; in short, all are in disorder in the case ^efoyi^ us. Almost every person that dies is cano- ]^:^^dj ...l£ the light of Christianity had not abolished aeificgtion, we should have filled heaven with saints ;ind heroes and deified souli. Each house of mourn- ing echoes with the praises of the dead, none of his looks toward heaven are forgotten, not a sigh, not an ejaculation hath escaped notice. The funeral convoys q£ persons the most worldly, whose hearts liad, been the most hardened in sin, are all uttering- orations ill praise of the dead. Et3r our pa^ts, my brethren, :fe, who have , seen a great number^ of sick people, ^nd attended many in their dying hours, we freely g^^^^it, -that the salvation of many ^f them i^ proba- ^kj.^|v We have, hardly seen pne, of whose salva^tion.We tfuite despair : but how seldom have w^e been in- ij|jn^4-to .s|y, while wq saw such people expire utter- I{^,tS|€-l4jaguage of the most eminent saints in scrip- WB^ e^f?-^^'^^^-^'^-^^.^^^^^^ of th^^e righteous people, and W.^1 '"" ^' ""'"" ■' " ' ' • let
General Mistakes. $|[
let Guf fii§t end be like theirs I Numb, xxiii. 10. I will give you a short list of general mistakes on this Sub- ject. ^^^ ^ "v^, -'^"';^''''' ;';-;
Th^^first mistake is this. Most siclt pi^le ate in- genious to disguise the danger of their illness. Be not conformed to this world. Whenever a dangerous ill^ ness attacks you, be aware of your condition, and let each say to himself, I have not long to live, at least this may be my last illness. My brethren, this sup-^ position is never unseasonable, we are in little danger of being deceived by thinking^ death at hand, for the numberless accidents to which we are exposed justify the thought. Is there any thing extravagant, pray, in affirming that sickness added to all these accidents renders the near approach of death highly probable ?
The second mistake is this. Most dying people put of tlie regulation of their temporal att'airs too long. Be not conformed to this v/orld. You should take patterns from better models both for reasons of af- fection, and reasons of prudence.- True affection to a family engages a man to preclude in favour of his heirs such troubles and divisons as are the inseparable consequences of an undivided or perplexed estate^^ Prudence, too, will foresee, that whik our minds are all occupied about temporal affairs, a thousand ideas will intrude to disturb our demotion. Do not v/ait till tl>e last moment to settle your affairs, to mak-e your will:, to dispone of your family, and be not so weak as to imagine that the discharge of these necessary du- ties will hasted your death. Employ yourselves wholly about the state of your souls, and let each say to him- self, since I have been in the world I have hardly de- voted one whole day to devotion : since I have been a member of the church I have been exercised about affairs which interest the whole society : but nov/ that I am come to the end'bf my life, nmv I am passing out of this world, riow that lam going where I shall have no rfiore portion tor ever in any thing that is don6
2 ^scndsr
go General Mistakes.
under the sun, disturb me no more, je worldly ideas ; tfiqu fashion of this world passii^g away, appear no more in my sight : ye wild fowls, interrupt my sacri- fice no more.
: The third mistake is this. Most dying people delay sending for their ministers till the last mo- ment. They would have us do violence to the laws of nature, they set us to exhort trunks, to instruct carcases, to prepare skin and bones for eternity. Be not conformed to this world. Why should ye delay ? Is there any thing odious in our ministry ? We do not bring death along with us, we do not hasten its approach : if we denounce the judgments of God against you, it is not with a design to terrify you, but to free you from them, and to pullt/ou out of tliefire^ Jude 23.
■^ ^Q these I add a foiu'th mistake. Most dying peo- ple think it a duty to tell their pastors of excellent sentiments, which indeed they have not, and they are afi*aid to discover their defects. When death makes his formidable appearance before them, they think religion requires them to say, they are quite willing to die. We desire, say they, to depart, when alas I all their desires are to make a tabernacle in the world, for it is good, they think to be there. They tremble at the coming of Christ, and yet they cry, Conie, Lord Jesus, co7ne quickly. Ah I Be not conformed ^^i/^iy t^or/ic/, open thy heart that it may be known, discover the maladies of thy soul, that w^e may apply such remedies as are proper. Do not imagine you will acquire su<ih sentiments and emotions as saints of the first order had by talking their language: but imbibe their principles in your mind, and their ;^mpers in your heart, before you makfe usfei!)f their language. . v ' '^ [
The fifth mistake is this. Most dying pieapk speak t^^thfeir ministers t^^ presence of ^ great
nuAiber^ of ^^teMaiit^^ litid^S est attendants ' iiiterfcre
General Mistakes* 6l
m what ministers say on those occasions. JSe fiotcon^ fomied to this world. Two reasons may convince you of the necessity of being alone. The first regaxdis the pastor. Surrounding attendants divert his at- tention from the sick person. The second regards the sick person himself. Would it be just or kind to give him directions in public? What! would you have us in the presence of a husband lay open the in- trigues of an immodest wife, and endeavour to bring her to repent of her lasciviousness by convicting her of her crimes ? Would you have us reprove the head of a family for the iniquity that has disgraced his long life, in the presence of his son ? Would you have us exhort a dying man to make restitution of his ill-gotten wealth in the presence of a hungry heir^ who already gluts his eyes, and satiates his soul with hopes of succession ? Were we casuists after the Ror man fashion, did we compel consciences to reveal !^q^ crets to us, which ought to be confessed to God alone, did we interfere with your families and pro- perties, there would be some ground for your scj;^-J pies t but while we desire nothing but to exonerate your consciences, and to aw^ake your souls to a sej^se of danger before they be plunged into an aby^^rof eternal misery, respect our conduct, and condescegi^ to submit to our instruction. "^\'^
To these I add one mistake more. Most dying people trust too much to their ministers, and take too little pains themselves to form such dispositions as a dying bed requires. Be not conformed to this tvorld^ It is not enough to have external help to die well, ^ve ourselves must concur in this great work, we must by profound meditatipn^ by frequent reflections piiiii l?y, fervent prayers support ourselves under this last attacE, and thus put the last }\fjn\ to the work of our salva- tion.^ It is true, the ^niirmi ties of your bodies will affeci your minds, and will often interrupt your r^- jigious exercises: but no matter, God doth not'Ve-"
qnire
6^' Ge?ieral Mistakes.
quire of a dying person connected meditations, aceur- rate reflections, precise and formal prayers, for one sigh, one tear, one ejaculation of your soul to God, one serious wish rising from the bottom of your heart will be highly esteemed by the Lord, and will draw down new favours upop you.
To conclude. The multitude is a bad guide in regard to faith, in regard to manners, and in regard to departing out of this life. A man who desires to be saved, should l^e always upon his guard lest he should be rolled down the torrent : he ought to com- pile in his closet, or rather in his conscience, a religi- on apart, such as is, not that of the children of the world, but that of the disciples of wisdom. Be no% conformed to this world. -
I finish with two reflections. I address the first to those who derive from this discourse no consequences to direct their actions : and the second to such as re- fer it to its true design.
* ^"f^irst. I address myself ko you who do iiot draw ally consequences from this discourse to regulate your actions. You have seen a portrait of the multitude. I suppose you acknowledge the likeness, and ac- quiesce in the judgment .we have made. It seems, too many proofs and dem^onstrations establish .this pro- position, the multitude is a bad guide. Now you may follow .\yhich example you please. You may make your choice between the maxims of Jesus Christ and the maxims of the world. But we have a right to require pne thing of you, which you cannot refuse us without injustice, that is, that granting the genius of the multitude, when you are told you are destroying yourselves, you do not pretend to have refuted us by replying, we conduct ourselves as the world does, and every body does what you condemn in us. Thanks be to God, your proposition is not strictly true! Thanks be to God, th^ rule hath some exceptions! There are many regenerate souls, hidden perhaps
from
Generai Mistakes, 6§o:
il'om the eyes of men, but visible tp Grod? :.J -aer^ , are even some saints, who shine in the::sig^tit pf( tfee^ whole world, and who, to use the expression of Jesus Christ, are a cit^ set on a hill, Mtiic. y. I4.. What then, you never cast your eyes on the most illustrious objects in this world I Do you reckon for nothing what alone merits observation m society, and vy-hat constitutes the true glory of it? Have you no value for men for whose sake the world subsists, and society is preserved ? . -.f
However, your proposition is indisputable in-a g%.^ neral sense, and we are obliged to allow it, for our whole discourse tends to elucidate and establish the point. Allege this proposition, but do not allege it for the purpose of opposing the censm'es you have heard, or of getting rid of our reproofs. By an« swering in this manner you give us an advantage over you, you lay a foundation which you mean to destroy, you do not furnish yourselves with a shield against your ministers, but you yourselves supply them with arms to wound and destroy you. Why do we declaim against your conduct.^ What do we mean when we reprove your way of living, except to cpnf vince you that it is not answerable to the Christian cha- racter which you bear? What do we mean except that you break the vows made for you in your baptisHj^ and which you yourselves have often ratified at the Lord's table? What in one word, except that you do not obey the laws of the gospel ? But what can you advance more proper to strengthen the testimony which we bear against you than that which you ad- vance to weaken it, that is, that you jive as the worW lives. .. .;^::m ,' ^ ; ^ . : '- ■.> - r,. . ^.-
- 1 AH) the world, say you, conduct yourselveSTas we do, and every body does what you censure us for doing. But all the world conduct themselves badly, all the world violate the spirit of religion, all the world at- tack the maxims of Jesus Christy all the worjd run in
the
§4 Getier^al Mistakes,
the broad road of perdition, all the world are destroy- ing themselves, and the apostle exhorts us not to take the world for an example.
- Secondly, I address myself to you, who sincerely desire to apply this discourse to its true design. I grant, the road opened to you is difficult. To resist the torrent, to brave the multitude, to see one's self like Elijah alone on the Lord's side, and, in this ge- neral apostacy, in which a Christian so often finds him- self, when he desire.^ to sacrifice all to his duty, to recollect motives of attachment to it, this is one of the noblest ettbrts of Christian heroism.
However, after all, it would argue great puerility to magnify our ideas of the crowd, the many, the multitude ; it would be childish to be too much struck with these ideas, every body thinks in this manner, all the world acts thus. I affirm, that truth and virtue have more partizans than error and vice, and God hath more disciples than Satan. What do you call the crowd, the many, the multitude.^ What do you mean by all the world ? What ! You and your com- panions, your family, your acquaintances, your fel- low citizens, the inhabitants of this globe, to which the Creator hath confined you ; is this what you call all the world? What littleness of ideas I Cast your eyes on that little mole hiii,' occupied by a few thou- sands of ants, lend them intelligence, propose to one of these insects other maxims than those of his fellows, exhort him to have a little more ambition than to occupy a tiny imperceptible space upon that mole hill, anin'iate him to ibrm projects more noble than that of collecting a few gi-ains' of corn, and then put into the mouth of this little emmet the same pre- text that you make use of to us ; I shall be alone, all the world conduct themselves in another manner. Would you iiot pity this insect? Would not he ap- pear more contemptible to you for his mean and spiritless ideas than for the dimiirativeness of his
hodv?
General Mistakes, 65
body ? Would you not look with disdain on an ant, that had no other ambition than that of taking for a model other insects about him, and preferring their approbation before that of mankind, who hold a rank so high in the scale of the world? My brethren, give what colours you will to this imagination, it is how- ever certain, that you would form unjust ideas of this insect. An emmet hath no relation to those be- ings, which you propose to him for models. Such ideas of happiness as you trace to him have no proportion to his faculties. Is an emmet capable of science to be allured by the company of the learned? Can an ant form plans of sieges and battles to render himself sensibfe of that glory, which exploits of war acquire, and for which the heroes of the world sacrifice their repose and their lives? t
g It is you, who have that meanness of soul, whiek you just now pitied in an ant. You inhabit cities and provinces, which compared with the rest of the world resemble the size of mole hills , the whole globe at- self is nothing in comparison of the immense spaces, in which other w^rks of the Creator are lodged. Ji'^pp creep on earth with a handful of men ::niuch less in comparison with the thousand thousands of othea' intelligences than an ant hill is in comparison ef mankind. You hnve intimate relations to these -in- telligences ; you like them are capable of great and noble functions ; like them you are capable of know- ledge ; like them you are able to know the Supreme Being ; you can love like them ; you can form tender and delicate connections as they can ; and like them you are destined to eternal duration and felicity.
Do not say then, I shall be alone, nobody lives as you would have me live. They are tlie men, who surround you that are nobody in comparison of the in- telligences, whom I propose to you for examples. - It ail suits insignificant men to consider themselves alone is IB the center of diviiie benevolence, and as the only
subjects
Q(j General Mistaken,
subjects of a monarch, who reigneth over all existence. " He sitteth upon the circle of the earth, whence the inhabitants appear to him as grasshoppers. He bring- eth princes to nothing, he considereth the judges of the earth as vanity. He shall blow upon them and they shall wither, and the whirlwind shall take them away like stubble, Isa. xl. 22.
But ye, celestial intelligences, seraphims burning with love, angels mighty in strength, messengers of the divine will, spirits rapid as the wind, and penetrat- ing as fire, ye redeemed of all nations^ all kindred, all people, all tongues, Rev. v. 9. ye make the crowd, ye fill the court of the sovereign of the world; and, when we refuse to conform ourselves to this world, v/e imi- tate you ; and when the slaves of the w^orld shall be loaded with chains of darkness, we shall share wdth you the river of pleasures at the right hand of that God whom you serve, and to whose service we like you devote ourselves. God grant us this grace I To him l>e honour and glory for ever. Amen.
SERMON
SERMON III-
The Advantages of Piety,
1 Timothy iv. 1E8.
Godliness is profitable unto all things, having pro??iise of the life that now is, and of that whkh is to coine,
THERE never was a disposition more odious, or more unjust than that of the profane Jews, of whom Jeremiah speaks in the forty-fourth chapter of his prophecies. He had addressed to them the most pressing and pathetical exhortations to dissuade them from worshipping the goddess Isis, and to divert them from the infamous debaucheries, with which the Egyptians accompanied it. Their reply was in these words, " As for the word that thou hast spoken unto us in the name of the Lord, we will not hearken unto thee: but we will certainly do whatsoever thing go- eth forth out of our own mouth, to burn incense unto the queen of heaven, and to pour out drink-offerings unto her, as we have done, we and our fathers, our kings and our princes, in the cities of Judal^, and in the streets of Jerusalem, for then had we plenty of victuals, and were well and saw no evil: but since we left off to burn incense to the queen of heaven, and to pour out drink-offerings unto her, we have wanted all
things
(58 The Advantages ofFieti/.
things, and have been consumed by the sword, and by the famine," ver. 16 — 18. Nothing can equal the sacri- fices, which reUgion requires of us :. therefore no- thing ought to equal the recompence, which it sets before us. Sometimes it requires us like the father of the faithful to quit our country and our relations, and to go out, not knowing whither we go, according to the expression of St Paul, Heb. xi 8. Sometimes it requires u' tc ircad m the bloody steps of those \vho *' iiaa li lal of cruel mockings and scourgings, yea of bonds and imprisonment. Some were stoned, others were sawn asunder, were tempted, were slain with the sword, wandered about in sfeeep skins, and goats skins, being destitute, afflicted, tormented," ver. 36, 37. Always it calls us to triumph over our passions, to renounce our own senses, to mortify the flesh *vith its desires, and to bring all the thoughts of our minds, and all the emo- tions of our hearts into obedience to Jesus Christ.' To animate us to sacrifices so great, it is necessary we should find in religion a superiority of happiness' and reward, and it w^ould be to rob it of all its dis-^ ciples to represent it as fatal to the interests of such as! pursue it.
As this disposition is odious, so it is unjust. The miserable Jews, of whom the prophet Jeremiah speaks did indeed consult the prophets of -God, but they would not obey their voice ; they would some- times suspend their idolatrous rites, but they would never intirely renounce them; they discovered ,some zeal for the exterior of religion, but they paid no at- tention to the spirit and substance of it, and as God refused to grant to this outside of piety such advan- tages as he had promised to the truly godly, they complained that the true religion had been to them a source of misery.
Were they the Jews of^ the prophets time ? Are they only Jews who make such a criminal complaint: Are they the only persons, who, placing religion in
cert:n:i
The Advantages of Piety. 69
certain exterior performances, and mutilated virtues, complain that they do not feel that peace of con- science, those ineffable transports, that anticipated heaven, which are foretastes and earnests of eternal joy ? We are going to-day, my brethren, to set before you the treasures, which God opens to us in com- munion with him : but we are going at the same time to trace out the character of those, on whom they are bestowed. This is the design of this discourse, and for this purpose w^e will divide it into two parts ; First, We will examine what the apostle means by godliness^ in the words of the text: And secondly. We will point out the advantages affixed to it. Godlineas is profitable unto all things^ having promise of the life that njow is^ and of that which is to come.
I. What is godliness or piety? It is difficult to in- clude an adequate idea of it in the bounds of what is called a definition. Piety is a habit of knowledge in the mind — rectitude in the conscience — sacrifice in the life — and zeal in the heart. By the knowledge, that guides it, it is distinguished from the visions of the superstitious ; by the rectitude, from whence it proceeds, it is distinguished from hypocrisy ; by the sacrifice, which justifies it, it is distinguished from the unmeaning obedience of him, who goes as a happy constitution leads him ; in fine, by the fervour that animates it, it is distinguished from the languishing emotions of the lukewarm.
1. Piety supposes /c;2ot^;/e^o'e in the mind. When God reveals a doctrine of religion to us, he treats us as reasonab-Ie beings, capable of examination and re- flection. He doth not require us to admit any truth without evidjence. If he would have us believe the existence of a first cause, he engraves it on every par- ticle of the universe. If he would have us believe the divinity of revelation, he makes some character of that'^divihity sHine in every part of it. Would he
have
70 The Advantages ofFiety,
have us believe the immortality of the soul, he attests it in every page of the sacred book. Accordingly, without previous knowledge, piety can neither sup- port us under temptations, nor enable us to render to God such homage as is worthy of him.
It cannot support us in temptation. When Satan endeavours to seduce us, he offers us the allurements of present and sensible good, and exposes in our sight the kingdoms of the world and the glory of them. If we have nothing to oppose against him but super- ficial opinions of a precarious and ignorant system, we shall not find ourselves in a condition to withstand him.
Nor can piety destitute of knowledge enable us to render to God such worship as is worthy of him ; for when do we render to God worship suitable to his ma- jesty ? Is it when submitting to the church, and saying to a man, in the language of scripture, Rabbi, Rabb?^ we place him on a sovereign throne, and make our reason fall prostrate before his intelligence ? No certainly; It is when, submitting ourselves to the- decisions of God, we regard him as the source of truth and knowledge, and believe on his testimony doctrines the most abstruse, and mysteries the most sublime.
True piety is wise, it rises out of those profound reflections which the godly man makes on the ex- cellence of religion. " Open thou mine eyes, said the prophet formerly, that I may behold wondrous things out of thy law. I have more understanding than all my teachers, for thy testimonies are my meditation. Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path. Mme eyes prevent the night watches, that I might meditate in thy word," Psal. cxix. 18, 99, 105, 148.
This is the first character of godliness, and this character distinguisheth it from superstition. A su- perstitious man doth not derive his principles from the source of knowledge. A family tradition, a tale,
a lesiend.
%
The Advantages of Piety, 7i-
a legend, a monkish fable, the reverie of a confessor, the decision of a council, this is his law, this is his light, this is his gospel.
2. Piety must be sincere, and this distinguisheth it from hypocrisy. A hypocrite puts on all the appear- ance of religion, and adorns himself with the most sacred part of it. Observe his deportment, it is aii atFected gravity, which nothing can alter .< Hear his conversation, he talks with a studied industry on the most solemn subjects, he is full of sententious saying?, and pious maxims, and so severe that he is ready to take offence at the most innocent actions. Mmd his dress, it is precise and singular, and a sort of sanctity is affected in all his furniture, and in all his equipage. Follow him to a place of worship, there particulatly his hypocrisy erects its tribunal, and there he dis- plays his religion in all its pomp. There he seem^ more assiduous than the most wise and zealous Chris- tians. There he lifts up his eyes to heaven. There he sighs. There he bedews the earth with his tears* In one word, v/hatever seems venerable in the church he takes pains to practise, and pleasure to display.
Jesus Christ hath given us the original of this por- trait in the persons of the Pharisees of his time, and the only inconvenience we find in describing such characters is, that, speak vv-here we will, it seems as if we intended to depict such individuals of the present age as seem to have taken these ancient hypocrites for their model. Never v/as the art of conterfeiting piety carried to such perfection by any men as by the old Pharisees. They separated themselves from a commerce with mankind, whom they called m con- tempt people of the world *. They made long prayer?. They fasted every Monday and Friday. They lay on planks and stones. They put thorns on the bottom of their go\Mis to tear their liesh. They wore straight
3 girdlc;-
* See Gcdwin's Moses and Aaron. Book I. Clian. X. S^rt. t.
72 The Advantages of Fiet^.
girdles about their bodies. They paid tithes, not only according to law, but beyond what .the4a^y re- quired. Above all they were great makers of prose- lytes, and this was in some sort their distinguishing character, and when they had made one, they never failed to instruct him thoroughly lo hate all such as were not of their opinion on particular questions. All tills was sh^v, all this proceeded from a deep hypo- crisy ; by all this they had no other design than to ac- quire reputation for holiness, and to make themselves masters of the people, who are more easily taken with exterior appearances than with solid virtue.
Such is the character of hypocrisy, a character that God detests. How often does Jesus Christ de- nounce anathemas against people of this character ? How often does he cry concerning them, iwe^ ivoe P Sincerity is one character of true piety, " O Lord, thou hast proved my heart, thou hast visited me in the night, thou hast tried me, and shall find nothing : I am pur- posed that my mouth shall not transgress. Lord thou knowest ail things, thou knowest that I love thee,'' Psal. xvii. 3. John xxi. I7. This character makes our love to God resemble his to us. When God gives himself to us in religion, it is not in mere appearances and protestations: but it is with real sentiments^ ema- nations of heart.
3. Piety supposes sacrifice, and by this we distin- guish it from a devotion of humour and constitution,. U'ith which it hath been too often confounded. There is a devotee of temper and habit, who, really, liatb a happy disposition, but which may be attended vritl) dangerous consequences. Such a man consults less the law of God to regulate his conduct than his own inclinations, and the nature of his constitution. As, by a singular favour of heaven, he hath not received one of those irregular constitutions, v^jliich most men have, but a happy natural disposition, improved too by ii good education, he iwT^^ in himself but little in-
dispositioT.i
The Adijantages of Piety. 73
disposition to the general maxims of Christianity, Being naturally melancholy, he doth not break out into unbridled mirth, and excessive pleasures. As he is naturally collected in himself, and not commu-' nicative, he doth not follow the crowd through the turbulence and tumult of the world. As he is natu- rally inactive, and soon disgusted with labour and pains taking, we never see him animated with the madness of gadding about every where, weighing himself down with a multitude of business, not permitting any thing to happen in society without being himself the first mover, and putting to it the last hand. These are all happy incidents ; not to run into excessive pleasure, not to follow the crowd in the noise and tu- mult of the world, not to run mad with hurry, and weary himself with an infinity of business, to give up the mind to recollection, all this is worthy of praise ; but what is a devotion of this kind, that owes its birth only to incidents of this sort? I compare it to the faith of the man who believes the truths of the gospel only through a headstrong prejudice, only be- cause, by a lucky chance, he had a father or a tutor, who believed themo As such a man cannot have a faith acceptable to God, so neither can he who obeys the laws of God, because, by a sort of chance of this kind, they are conformable to his natural temper, offer to him the sacrifice of true ' obedience. Had you been naturally inclined to dissipation, you would have been excessively dissipated, for the very same reason that you are now excessively fond o*f retiremento Had you been naturally industrious, you would have exceeded in labouring on the very principle which now inclines you to be too fond of ease and stillness. Had you been naturally inclined to mirth, you would have shewn excessive levity, on the very principle that now turns your gravity into gloom and melan- choly. Would you know yourselves ? See, examine yourselves. You say, y-our piety inclines you to sur- VOL. v., V TTvount.
74 The Advantages of Fitly,
mount all temptations to dissipation ; but doe^^ it en- able you to resist those to retirement : It make§ you firm against temptations to pleasure, but does it tree you from sullenness ? It enables you to surmount temptations to violent exertions, but does it raise yoi|g above littleness ? The same may be said of the resU Happy he, who arranges his actions with a special re- gard to his own heart, inquiring what he can iind there opposite to the law of God, attacking the strong holds of Satan within himself, and directing all his fire and force to that point. They that are Christ's have cruci- fied the fii'sh, with the affjections and lusts. I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, ivhich is your reasonable service. Sacrifice and offering thou dost ?iot desire, ??iine ears hast thou opened, JLo, I come. I delight to do thy will, O my God, yea, thy law is within my heart. Gal. v. 24. Rom. xii. 1. Psal. xl. 7, &g.
4. Zeal and fervour are the last characters of piety. By this we know the godly man from such luke-warm. Christians as practise tiie duties of religion in sub- stance, but do so with a coldness, that sinks the value of the service. They can hear the afflictions of the church narrated without emotions, and see a confused heap of stones, sad remains of houses consecrated to our God, vfiihowt favouring the dust thereof, according to the expression of scripture. They can see the di- mensions of the love of God measured, the breadth, and length, and depth, and heighth, without f^ieling the least warmth from the ardour and flame of so vehe- ment a love. They can be present at the offering of one of those lively, tender, fervent prayers, which God Almighty himself condescends to hear and an swer,, and for the sake of which he forgives crimes and averts judgment, without entering at all into the spirit of these subjects. Such men as these require persuasion, compulsion and power to force them.
A man, who truly loves God, hath sentiments of
zeal
The Admnlages of Piety. 75
Zealand fervour. Observe David, see his joy biefore the arfc: neither the royal grandeur, nor the prophe- tical gravity, nor the gazing of the populace, nor the reproaches of an interested wife, could cool his zeal. Observe Elijah, " i have been," said he, " very jealous for the Lord God of hosts : for the children of Israel have forsaken thy covenant, thrown down thine altars, and slain thy prophets with the sw^ord, and I even I only am left, and they seek my life to take it away," 1 Kings xix. 10. Behold good Eli, the frost of fourscore could not chill the ardour that inflamed him. What is there done ^ my HonF said he to the unv^^lcome messenger, who came to inform him of the defeat of his army, the messenger replied, Israelis fled before the Philistines, a7idtherehath also been a great slaughter among the peo'ple, and thy two S071S Hophni a7id Phinehas are dead: Thus far he sup- ported himself : but when the man went on to say, the ark of God is takai, instantly, on hearing that the ark was gone, he fell backward, he could not survive the loss of that august symbol of the divine presence, but died with grief. Observe Nehemiah, to whom his royal master put the question, Why is thy counteri- ance sad? said he, Why should not my countenance be sad, when the city , the place of my fathers' sepulchres lieth waste, and the gates thereof are coyisumed with fire P chap, ii. 2, ^c. Consider St Paul, We glory in tribulations, because the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts, by the Holy Ghost iDhieh is given unto us, Eom. V. 3, 5. ^4^\bi.
Do you imagine you truly love God, while you have only languid emotions toward him, and while; you reserve all your activity and fire for the worlds There is between God and a believer a tender and affectionate intercourse. Godliness hath its festivals and exuberances.' Flesh arid blood ! Ye, th2itca7i7iot in- herit the kingdom of God, 1 Cor. xv. 50; ye imp^jre ideas of concupiscence, depart, be gone far away from our imaginations ! There is a tinie, in v/hrch the my- 2 stical
76' The Advantages of Pieti/.
stieal spouse faints, and utter such exclamations as these, " I sleep, but my heart waketh. Set me as a seal upon thy heart, as a seal upon thine arm, for love is strong as death, jealousy as cruel as the grave, the coals thereof are coals of tire, \\ hich hath a most ve- hement flame. Many waters cannot quench lov^, nei- ther can floods drown it," Cant. v. 2.
These are some characters of piety. Let us go or to examine the advantages of it,
II. Our apostle says, godliness is projitabk unto all things, having promise of the life that now is, and of that which is to come. There is an enormous difference between these two sorts of blessings. The blessings of the life to come are so far superior to the blessings of the present life, that when \ye can assure ourselves of the first, we ought to give ourselves very little concern about the last. To add one little drop of water to the boundless ocean, and to add a temporal blessing to the immense felicities, which happy spirits enjoy in the other life, is almost the same thing. St Paul tells us, that the idea of the. life to come so absorbs the idea of the present life, that to consider these two objects in this point of view, his eyes could hardly get sight of the one, it was so very diminutive, and his mind reckon- ed the whole as nothing : " Our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceed- ing and eternal weight of glory, while we look not at the things v/hich are seen, which are temporal, but at the things which are not seen, which are eternal," 2 Cor. iv. 17, 18.
Few imitate^ this apostle. The present, because it is present, and in spite of its rapidity, fixes our eyes, becomes a wall between us and eternity, and prevents our perceiving it. We should make many more converts to virtue, could we prove that it would ren- der mankind happy here below, but we cannot change the order of things. Jesus Christ and his apostles have told us, that in the world we shall have tribulation^
and
The Adiuajitages ofVkty. 77
and that all tluit will live godly in Christ Jesus ^ shall suffe)' persecution, Johnxvi. 33. 2 Tim. iii. 12. How- ever, it is true, that even here piety procures pleasures, which usually surpass all those of worldly people : at least, which are sufficient to support us in a road lead- ing to eternal happiness.
I. Consider first how piety influences our health. Our bodies decay, I allow, by numberless means. Death enters them by the air we breathe, and by the elements that support them, and whatever contributes to make them live contributes at the same time to make them die. Let us allow, my brethren, that most maladies take their rise in such excesses as the law of God condemns. How can a man devoured with ambition, avarice and vengeance, a man whose passions keep him in perpetual agitations, depriving him of peace, and robbing him of sleep : how can he, who passes whole nights and days in gaming, animated with the desire-of gaining the money of his neighbour, tortured by turns with the hope of a fortune, and the fear of a bankruptcy : how can he, who drowns him- self in wine, or overcharges himself with gluttony : how can he, v/ho abandons himself without a curb to ■excessive lewdness, and who makes every thing serve his voluptuousness : how is it possible for people of these kinds to expect a firm and lasting health. God- liness is a bar to all these disorders, the fear of the Lord, prolan geth days: it is €: fountain cf'ife io guard us from the snares of death, Prov. x. 27. and xii. 27. If then it be true that health in an invaluable treasure, if it be that, which ought to riold the first rank among the bles- Lsings of life, if without it all others are no valuCj it is as certain that without love to the law of God we cannot enjoy much pleasure in life.
The force of this reflection is certainly very little ielt in the days of youth and vigour, for then we nsiTally consider these as eternal advantages, which
nothiR'?
'%S The Advantages ofPiety.
nothing can alter : but when old age comes, when by continual languors, and by exquisite pains, men ex- piate the disorders of an irregular life, then that fear of God is respected, which teaches us to prevent them. Ye martyrs of concupiscence, ye victims of volup- tuousness, you, who formerly tasted the pleasures 6f sin, and are now thoroughly feeling the horrors of it, and who in consequence of your excesses are already given up to an anticipated hell, do you serve us for demonstration and example. You are -become know- ing by experience, now teach our youth how^ bcneii- cial it is to lead a regular life in their first years, and as your intemperance has oifended the church, let the pains you endure serve to restrain such as are weak enough to imitate your bad examples. Those trem- bling hands, that shaking head, those disjointed knees, that extinguished resolution, that feeble memory, that worn out brain, that body all infection and pu- trefaction, these are the dreadful rewards which the devil bestows on those on whom he is preparing him- self shortly to exercise all his fury and rage. On this article then, instead of saying with the profane, what profit is it to keep the ordinances of God, and to icalk mournfuUij before the Lord of hosts P Mai. ii. 14. We -ought to say with St Paul, "What fruit had ye then in those things whereof ye are now ashamed ? For the end of those things is death," Eom. vi. 21.
2. Consider next how piety influences our reputation, I am aware, that vrorldly men by decrying piety en- deavour to avenec themselves for the want of coura2;e to practise it. I am aware, too, thatpracti.se wicked- ness as much, as often, and as far as ever we can, we shall always find ourselves in a circle of companions like ourselves. But after all, it is however indisput- able, that good people usually acquire the respect of such as have not the laudable ambition of imitating them. I appeal only to your own conscience. Is it nt^ ti'Ue, that, even while you are gratifying your
own
The Advantages of Piety, 79
t>wn passions, you cannot help admiring such as subdue theirs ? Is it not true, that, except on some occasions. In which you want, and therefore seek accomplices in sin, you w^ould rather choose to form connections, to make bargains, and to deal with such as obey the laws of God, than with those who violate them ? And umidst all the hatred and envy, which your irregula- rities excite against good people, is it not true, that your heart feels more veneration for wise, upright, tmd piotis people than for others, w^ho have opposite qualities ? As these are your -dispositions toward "Others, know of a truth, they are also dispositions of others toward you. Here it is, that most men are objects of great ptty. The irregularities, which seem to conduct us to the >end we propose, are often the very causes of ©ur disappointment. May I not address one of yen thus ? You trample upon all laws human and divine ; you build up a fortunate house with the substance of wddow^s, and orphans, and oppressed people, and yo^ cemeait it v/ith their blood ; you sell your v€>tes ; you defraud the state ; you deceive your friends ; you betray ycur correspondents, and after you have enriched yourself by such \vays you set forth in a most pompous manner yom* riches, your elegant furniture, your magniircent palaces, your superb equipages, and you think the public take you for a person of great consideration, and that every one is erecting in his heart an altar to your fortune. No such thing. You deceive yourself. Every one says in private, and some blunt people say to your face you are a knave, you are a public blood-sucker, and all your magnificence displays nothing but your crimes. May I not say to another, You affect to mount above your station by arrogant language, and mighty as- sumptions. You deck yourself with titles, and adorn yourselves w^ich names unknown to your ancestors. You m\t on a supercilious deportment, that ill assorts with liic dust which covered you the other day, and you
think
80 The Advantages ofFiett/,
thiafcfej these means to effaCe the remembrance of yoin' origin. No such thing. You deceive yourself. Eyei-y one takes pleasure in shewing you some of your former rags to mortify your pride, and they say to one ano- ther, he is a mean genius, he is a fool, he resembles distracted men,.who having persuaded themselves that they are princes, kings, emperors, call their cottage a palace, their stick a scepter, and their domestics courtiers. May I not speak thus to a third. You are intoxicated with your own splendour, and fascinated with your own charms, you aspire at nothing less than to make all mankind your w^orshippers, offering in- cense to the idol you yourself adore, with this view 3jOu break through the bounds of law, and the decency of your sex ; your dress is vain and immodest, your conversation is loose, your deportment is indecent, and you think the world take you for a sort of goddess. No such thing. You deceive yourself. People say you have put off Christian modesty, and laid aside even worldly decency, and as they judge of your private life by your public deportment, how can they think otherwise ? fathers forbid their sons to keep you com- pany, and mothers exhort their daughters to avoid your bad example.
3. Observe how godliness influences onv fortune, by procuring us the confidence of other men, and above all by acquiring the blessing of God on qur designs and undertakings. You are sometimes astonished at the alarming changes that happen in society, you are surprized to see some families decay, and others fall into absolute ruin. You cannot comprehend why some people, who held the other day the highest^laces in society, are now fallen from that pinnacle of gran- deur, and involved in the deepest distress. Why this astonishment ? There is a providence, and though God often hide<j himself, though the ways of his providence are usually impenetrable, though it would ho. an unjust ,way of reasoning to.£ay such a person is
wealthy
TJie Advantages of FiePy, 8JL
wealthy therefore he is holy, such a one is indigent, therefore he is wicked, yet the Lord sometimes comes out of that darkness, in which he usually conceals himself, and raises a saint out of obscurity into a State of wealth and honour.
4. Consider what an influence godliness hath in our happiness by calming our passions, and by setting bounds to our desires. Our faculties are finite: but our desires are boundless. From this disproportion between our desires and our faculties a thousand con- flicts arise, which distress and destroy the soul. Ob- serve the labour of an ambitious man, he is obliged to sacrifice to his prince his ease, his liberty and his life ; he must appear to applaud what he inwardly con- demns ; and he must adjust all his opinions and sen- timents by the ideas of his master. See what toils worldly honour imposes on its votaries, a worldling must revenge an affront after he hath pardoned it, and to that he must expose ^lis establishmei'it and his for- tune, he must run the risk of being obliged either to quit his country, or to suffer such punishment as the. law 'inflicts on those, who take that sword into their own hands, which God hath put into the hand of the magistrate, he must stab the person he loves, the j3er- son who loves him, and who offended him more through inadvertence than animosity: he nmst stifle all the suggestions which conscience urges against a man who ventures his salvation on the precariou^^ success of a duel, and who by so doing braves all the horrors of hell. Above all, what is the condition of a heart, with what cruel alternatives is it racked and torn, when it is occupied by tv»o passions, which op- pose and counteract each other. Take ambition and avarice for an example ; for, my brethren, the heart of man is sometimes the seat of two opposite tyrants, each of whom hath vie u^s and interests diffei'ent fi^nn the other. Avarice says keep, ambition savs give^ avai'ice says hold fast, ambition says give up. Avarice
S2 The Advantages of Piety,
says retire, ambition says go abroad. Ambition com- bats avarice, avarice combats ambition, each by tm-ns distresses the heart, and if it groans under tyranny, whether avarice or ambition be the tyrant is indif- ferent. The pleasure of seeing one passion reign ii> always poisoned by the pain of seeing the other sub- dued. They resemble that woman, whose twin chil- dren struggled together within her^ and who .y«/Vi during the painful sensations, if irmust be so.^t^h^ was / a mother ?
Piety prevents these fatal eifeccs, it maketk us content v/ith the condition, in which providence hatii placed us*: it doth more, it teacheth us to be happy m any condition, how mean soever it may be. ** I have learned in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content : I know both how to be abased, and I know how to abound. Every where and in all thmos I am instructed, both to be full and to be hungr}^ both to abound and to suiFer need, Phil. iv. 11, 12.
5. Consider the peace which piety diffuseth in tlic conscience. The prosperity of those who desire to free themselves from conscience, is such as to m*ake them misera])le in the midst of their greatest success. What pleasure can a man enjoy, who cannot bear to be one moment al'one ; a man, w^ho needs perpetual dissipation to hide from himself his real condition ; a man, who cannot reflect on the past v/ithout remorse, think on the present without confusion, or the future without despair ; a man, who carries within himself that obstinate reprover, on whom he cannot impose silence ; a man, wlio already feels the tvo7yn that dicth not gnawing him ; a man, who sees in the midst of his most jovial festivals the writing of a maiUs hamU which he cannot read, but which his conscience most faithfully and terribly interprets; I ask what pleasm'e can such a man enjoy ?
Godliness not only frees us from these torments, h-^sX it communicates joy into every part of thf pious
■mrai's^
The Advantages cfPieti/, ^^
iTian's life. If the believer be m prosperity, he con- .siders it as an eft'ect of the goodness of God, the go- ,¥cnior of this universe, and as a pledge of blessings reserved for him in another world. If he be in ad- .yei'sity, indeed he considers it as a chastisement com- ing from the hand of a wise and tender parent : and the same may be said of every other condition.
6. In fine, consider how piety influences the happi- ness, of life, by the assurance it gives us of a safe, if Jiot a comfortable death. There is not a single mo- ment in life, in which it is not possible we should die, consequently there is not one instant, that may not be unhappy, if we be not in a condition to die well. While we are destitute of this assurance, we live in perpetual trouble and agitation, we see the sick, we meet funeral processions, we attend the dying, and all these different objects become motives of horror and pain. It is only v/hen we are prepai*ed to die well, that we bid defiance to winds and waves, tires and ship- wrecks, and that, by opposing to all these perilous .casualties the hope of a happy death, we every where experience the joy wit-h ^vhich it inspires jgucbud wait for it. - -'-
■-1 Collect all these articies, and unite all these advan- 'tages in one. I ask now, is it an improbable propo- sition, that virtue hath a reward in itself, sufficient to indemnify us for all we suffer on account of it, so that though there were nothing to expect after this life, yet it would be a problem, whether it would not be better^ all things considered, to practise godliness than to live in sin.
But this is not the consequence we mean to draw from our principles. We do not intend to make this use of our observations. Wc will not dispute with the sinner w^iether he finds ])leasure in the prac- tice of sin, but as he assures us, that it gives him more pleasure to gratify his passions than to subdiu* ,;them. we v.ill neither denv the fact, nor iind fault with
his
84 The Advantages of Piety.
his taste, but allow that he must know better than any body what gives himself most pleasure. We only de- rive this consequence from all we have been hearing, that the advantages which accompany godliness, are sufficient to support us in a course of action, that leads to eternal felicity.
This eternal felicity the apostle had chiefly in view, and on this we would fix your attention in the close of this discourse. Godliness hath promise of the life that now is, is a proposition, we think, plain and clear : but however it is disputable, you say, subject to many exceptions, and liable to a great number of difficul- ties : hut godliness hathpronme of the life that is to come^ is a proposition which cannot be disputed, it is free Irom all difficuky, and can admit of no exception.
Having taken up nearly all the time allotted to this exercise, I will finish wdth one reflection. Pro- mise of the life to come, annexed to godliness, is not a mere promise, it puts even in this life the pious man in possession of one part of the benefits, the perfect possession of which he lives in hope of enjoying. Follow him in four periods— -First in society — Next in the closet—Then in a participation of holy ordi- nances— And lastly, at the 'xeprnach of detvih : you will find him participatiag the eternal felicity, ^vhich is the object of his hope.
In societ?'. What is the life of a man, who never goes into the conipany of his fellow creatures without doing them good : of a man who after the example of Jesus Christ focs about doinp: pood: a man, v/ho every w^h ere shews the light of a good example, Vvho endeavours to whi all hearts to God, who never ceases to publish his perfections, and to celebrate his praise, what, I ask, is the Ufe of such a maiir It is an angelical life, it is a lieavenly life, it is an anti- cipation of that life which happy spirits live in l-^ea- ven, it is a foretaste, and pi-elibation of those plea- sures which are at the rig-ht hand of God. and of that
TJie Advantages of Pktt/. 8 5
fulness of joy y which is found in contemplating his majesty. .ho'^'
Follow the pious man into the silent closet. There he recollects, concenters himselt, and loses himself in God. There, in the rich source of religion, he quenches the thirst of knowing, elevating, perpetuat- ing, and extending himself, which burns within him, and there he feels how God, the author of his nature, proportions himself to the boundless capacity of the human heart. There, ye earthly thoughts, ye worldly cares, ye troublesome bir^ds of prey, that so often per- plex us in life, there you have no access? There re- volving in his mind the divers objects presented to him in religion, he feels the various emotions that arc proper to each. Sometimes tlie rich gifts of God in nature, and the insignificance o^f man the receiver are objects of his contemplation, and then he exclaims, O Lord, my Lord, how excellent is thy luwie in all the earth ! When I consider thy heavens, the tcork of thy fin- gers, the moon and the stars which thou hast ordained, Psal. viii. 1, 3. I cannot help crying, What is man that thou art mindful of him I And the Son of man, that thou visitest him I ver. 4. Sometimes the brightness of the divine perfections shining in Jesus Christ fixes his attention, and then he exclaims, Thou art fairer than the children of men, grace is poured into thy lips, therefore God hath blessed thee for ever ! Fsal. xiv. 2. Sometimes his mind contemplates that train of fa- vours, with which God hath enriched evcrv believer in his church, and then he cries. Many, O Lord my God, are thy ivorulerful works which thou hast done, a7id thy thoughts which are to us icard: they camiot be reckoned lip in order unto thee I Would I declare and speak of them? They are more than can be numbered I Psal. xl. 5. Some- times it is the sacrifice of the cross, and then he saith. Without controversy great is the mystery of godliness, God wa^ manifest in the flesh I 1 Tim. iii, 16. Sometimes it
K
%§ The Advantages of Fie t^.^
is the joy of possessing God, and then his language'* \SyMy soul is satisfie(Ui^ with marroiv and fatness I PsaL- ixiii. 5. Sometimes it is the desire of enjoying God in a greater measure, and in a richer abuntlance, and then he says with Asaph, my supreme good is to draw near to God! IVhen shall I come '^ O lehen shall I come and appear before God ! Fsal^^ Ixxiii. 28. and xUi. 2*
Follow this man in the participation of holy 0V//~ nances. Represent to yourselves a man, who after pre-t^ paring himself some days, or some weeks for the^ holy communion, bringing thither a heart propor^i^ tioned to the labour, which he hath taken to dispose it properly ; imagine such a man sitting at this table along with the ambitious, the impure, the revengefuL the vain, ail the members of this community, sup- pose this man saying to himself, they are not only men who see and consider me, they are angels, who incamp around such as love God;, it is Jesus Christ,^- who sits amidst his disciples assembled in his name;- it is God himself, who sees all, and examines all thet dispositions I bring to his table. It is not only an' invitation to this table given ine by ministers, it is wisdom who Jiiith furnished her tabk, mingled her crime . Prov. ixi 1, 2. and who eric th, Ho, every one that thirst- eth, come ye to the waters, Isaiah Iv. It is my Saviour, who saith to -me, fVith desire I have desired to eat with j/ou, Luke xxii. 15. It is aot onlr mate^rial bread- that I am receiving, it is a symb-ol of the body and' ])lood of Christ, it is his flesh and blood under the elements of bread and wine. It will be not only a little tranquillity of conscience, which I shall receive at this table, if I enter into the spirit of the mystery set before me : but I shall have consolations on ray death-bed, triumphs after death, and oceans of feli- city and glory for ever^ God hath no-t preserved mc till now merely to give mc an opportimity of sitting^^ here : but to open to me the treasures of liis patience!
and
The Advantages of Pitt i/: S'Sf.
'<i«4 teS suffering : to enable me to repent of niv fomier negligence, of breaking the sabbath, profaning the communion, committing iniquity, forgetting my l^rpmis^s, and offending my Creator.
l^skyiiiy brethren, what is the man who approaches the Lord's table with such dispositions ? Is he a com- mon man ? Verily with eyes of flesh, I see nothing to distinguish him from the crowd, I see this man con- founded with all others, whom a lax discipline suffers to partake of this ordinance, and to i*eceive with un- clean hands and a profane mouth the most holy sym- bol of our religion ; at most, I see only an agitation of his senses, a spark shining in his eye, a look cast towards heaven, emotions which the veil of humility that covers him cannot entirely conceal : but with the- eyes of my mind i behold a man of a superior order, a msbD^in^ paradise, a man nourished with.pleasure at the right hand of God, a man at whose conversion the angels of God rejoice, a man fastened to the trium- phal car of Jesus Christ, and w^ho makes the glory of the triumph, a man who hath the happy art of making heaven descend into his soul ; I behold, amidst the miseries and vanities of the world, a man already just iyied, already raised, 2i\v^2idy glorified, already sitting in heavenly places with Christ Jesus Jxova. viii. 30, Eph. ii. 6. I see a i33an ascending to heaven along with Jesus Christ, amidst the shouting of the hea- venly choir," Lift up your heads, O ye gates, and be ye lifted up, ye everlasting doors, and let the King of glory in," Psal. x-xiv. 7. I see a man ivith uncovered face be^ holding the glory of the Lord, and changing /rof/z o/o/y to glory by the Spirit of the Lord, 2. Cor. iii. 18.
But it is particularly in a dying bed that the pious man enjoys foretastes of the life to come. A world- ling is confounded at the approach of that dismal night, which hides futurity from him, or rather de- spair seizes his soul at the rising of thai dreadful light,
1 which
S^ The Advantages of Pieti/.
■which discovers to him a dispensation of punishment, in spite of his obstinate denial of it. Then he sees lire, flames, devils, a lake of fire^ the smoke of which ascendeth up for ever and ever. Then he shrinks back from the bitter cup, the dregs of which he must drink ; he tries though in vain to put oft the end by his too late prayer, and he cries at its approach, Mountains fall on ine, hilts cover me! As for the believer, he sees and desires nothing but that dispensation of happiness, which he hath already embraced by faith^ possessed by hope, and tasted by the comforts of the Holy Spirit in his soul ; and hence comes that active fervour, wiiich makes his countenance luminous like that of departing Stephen. I cannot better express such sentiments than in the w^ords of the primitive saints, who so happily experienced them.
'' I have waited for thy salvation, O Lord! I know that my Redeemer livetli, and though after my skin worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh I shall see God ; wdiom I shall see for myself, whom mine eyes shall behold and not another. Though thou slayest me. yet will I trust in thee, O God ! Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, ibr thou art with me, thy rod and thy staff" they comfort me. I know whom I have believed, and I am persuad- ed, that he is able to keep that wiiich I have committed unto him against that day. Neither count I my life dear so that I might finish my course with joy, and the; ministry which I have received of the Lord. I desire to depart and be with Christ, which is far better. Lord Jesus receive my spirit. I have fought a good light, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith , henccix>rth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness. O death, where is thy sting? O gTave,wiiereis thy victory ? Li these things wc are more than conquerors, through him that loved us. As the hart panteth after the water U'ooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God I my soul thirstetla for God, for the living God ! Wl^en shall I come I and
The Advantages of Pieiij, 8y
and appear before God ? How amiable are thy taber- nacles, O Lord of Hosts ! My soul longeth, yea, even fainteth for the courts of the Lord : my heart and my flesh cry out for the livmg God. Blessed are they that dwell in thy house, they will be still praising thee ! I'hine altars, even thine altars, O Lord of Hosts, my king and my God I
May you all, my brethren, may every one of you know these truths by experience. God grant you the grace. To him be honour and glory for ev^r.
VOL. V. G SERMON
SERMON IV.
The Repentance of the Unchaste Woman,
Luke vii. ^6 — 50.
And one of the Pharisees desired him that he would eat- "ifoith him. And he ze^ent into the Pharisee* s house, Qn4 sat down to meat. And behold, a iwman in the city, which zaas a sinner, x&hen she knew that Jesus sat at meat in the Pharisee's house, brought an alabaster box of ointment, and stood at his feet behind him z^eeping^ and began to iimsh his feet zmth tears, and did wipe them zvith the hairs of her head, and kissed his feet, and anointed them zoith the ointment. Now when the Pha- risee zohich had bidden him, saza it, he spake zoithin himself, saying, this man, if he were a prophet, zmuld have known zi^ho, and what manner of zooman this is that ioucheth him : for she is a sinner. And Jesus answering, said unto him, Simon, I have somewhat to say unto thee. And he saith. Master, say on. There zvas a certain creditor, zohich had two debtors : the one oz^ed fve hundred pence, and the other fjtif. And z^heu they had nothing to pay, he frank lij forgave them both. Tell me therefore, zMch of them zmll love him most P Simon answered and said, 1 suppose that he to whom he forgave most. And he said 2(nto him, thou G 2 hast
92 The Repentance of the unchaste Woman.
hast riujith} jndgecL And he turned to the woman^ and said unto Simon, Seest thou this woman^ 1 entered into thine house, thou gavest me no naterjor mif feet : but she hath washed my feet with tears, and iciped them xcith the hairs of her head. Thou gavest me no kiss : hut this woman, since the time I cmne in, hath not ceased to hiss mij feet. Mine head with oil thou didst not anoint : but this woman hath anointed mij feet with ointment. Wherefore I saij unto ihee^ her sins which are many, are forgiven ; for she loved much : but to nhom little is forgiven, the same loveih little. And he said unto her, thij sins are forgiven. And theif that sat at meat with him, began to saij within themselves, zndio is this that frgiveth sins also P And he said to tL man, Thj faith hath saved thee ; go in peace.
he w'o-
Y ET me fall into the hands of the Lord, for his nier- cies are great : but let me not fall into the hand of man, 2 Sam. xxiv. 14. This was the request that Dav.d made m the most unhappy moment of his life. A prophet sent by an avenging God came to bring him a choice of afllictions, '' I offer thee three things, choose one of them, that I may do it unto thee. Shall three years of famine come unto thee in thy land ? or wilt thou flee three months before thine enemies, while they pursue thee ? or that there be three days pestilence in thy land ? Now advise, and see what answer 1 shall re- turn to him that sent me," ver. 12, &c.
What a proposal was this to a man accustomed to consider heaven as a source of benedictions and fa- vours I Henceforth he was to consider it only as a cavern of thunder and lightning, flashing and rolling, and ready to strike him dead I which of these pu- nishments will he choose ? Which of them could he choose without reproaching himself in future that he had chosen the worst ? Which would you have chosen had you been in his place, my brethren ? Would you have determined for w^ar ? Could you have borne
the
The Repentance of the unchaste Woman. 93
the bare idea of it ? Could you have endured to see the once victorious armies of Israel led in triumph by an enemy, the ark of the Lord a captive, a cruel and barbarous soldiery reducing a kingdom to aihes, razing fortresses, ravaging a harvest, and destroying in a moment the crop of a whole year ? Would you have determined for famine ? Would you have chosen to have the heaven become as iron, and the earth brass, the seed dying in the earth, or the corn burning before it was ripe, ^'"Xhe locust eating what the palmer worm hath left, and the canker w^orm eating vvhat the locust hath left," Joeli. 4. men snatching bread from one ano- ther's hands, struggling between life and death, and starving till food would afford no nourishment? Would you have chosen mortality ? Could you have reconciled yourselves to the terrible times in which contagion on the wings of the wind carries its deadly poison with the rapidity of lightning from city to city, from house to house; a time in whic' social Hy« ing is at an end, when each is wholly employed ia guarding himself from danger, and hath no ( ppor- tunity to take care of others ; when the father flees from the sight of the son, the son from that of the father, the wife avoids the husband, the husband the wife; when each dreads the sight of the person he most esteem^;, and receives, and communicates poi- sonous and deadly infection ? These are the dreadful punishments out of which God required guilty David to choose one. These he was to weigh in a balance, while he agitated the mournful qi.estion, which of the three shall I choose for my lot? However, he de- termines. Let me fall into the hands of the Lord, for his mercies are p' eat : hut let me not jail into the hand' of man. He thought, that immediate strokes from the hand of a God, merciful though displeased, would be most tolerable. He could conceive nothing more terrible than to see between God and himself, men who would
intercept
94 The Repentance of the unchaste Womaii,
intercept his looks, and who would prevent his access to the throne of grace.
My brethren, the wish of David under his conster- nation may direct ours in regard to all the spots that have defiled our lives. True, the eyes of God are infinitely more pure than those of men. He indeed discovers frailties in our lives which have escaped our notice, and if our heart condemns us, God is greater than our heart. It is true, he hath punishments to inflict on us infinitely more dreadful than any man- kind can invent, and if men can kill the body, God /« able to destroy both soul and bodij in helL However, this Almighty God, this terrible, this avenging God is a merciful God, great are his tender mercies : but men, men are cruel, yea, the very men who allow them- selves to live in the most shameful licentiousness, men who have the most need of the patience of others, men who themselves deserve the most rigorous pu- nishments, these very men are usually void of all pity for their fellows. Behold a famous example. The imchaste woman in the text experienced both, and by turns made trial of the judgment of God, and the judgment of men. But she met with a very different treatment. In Jesus Christ she found a very severe legislator, who left her awhile to shed tears, and very bitter tears ; a legislator, who left her awhile to her own grief, and sat and saw her hair dishevelled, and her features distorted : but who soon took care to dry Up her tears, and to address this comfortable lan- guage to her, Go in peace. On the contrary, in the hands of men she found nothing but barbarity and cruelty. She heard a supercilious Pharisee endeavour to arm against her the Redeemer of mankind, try to persuade him to denounce her sentence of death, even while she was repenting of her sin, and do his utmost to cause condemnation to flow from the very fountain of grace and mercy.
It is this instructive, this comfortable history, that
we
The Repentance of the unchaste Woman. 95
we set before you to-day, and which presents three very different objects to our meditation, the conduct of the incontinent woman, that of the Pharisee, and that of Jesus Christ. In the conduct of the woman, prostrate at the feet of our Saviour, you see the princi- pal characters of repentance. In that of the Pharisee you may observe the venom that not unfrequently in- fects the judgments which mankind make of one ano- ther. And in that of Jesus Christ you may behold free and generous emotions of pity, mercy and com- passion. Let us enter into the matter.
I. Let us first observe the incontinent woman now become a penitent. The question most controverted by interpreters, and very differently answered by them, is that, which in our opinion is the least important, that is, who was this woman ? Not that a perfect knowledge of her person, and of the history of her life, would not be very proper, by explaining the nature of her sins, to give us a just idea of her repent- ance, and so contribute to elucidate the text : but because, though we have taken a. great deal of pains, wx have found nothing on this article worthy to be pro- posed to critical hearers, who insist upon being treated as rational men, and who refuse to determine a point without evidence.
I know, some expositors, misled by a resemblance between this anointing of Jesus Christ, and that men- tioned in the eleventh chapter of St John, when our Saviour supped with Lazarus, have supposed that the woman here spoken of was the same Mary, the sister of Lazarus, who paid such a profound attention to the discourse of Jesus Christ, and who, according to the evangelist, anointed the Lord tcith ointment, and wiped his feet with her hair. And as other parts of the gospel speak of another Marif called Magdalen, some have thought that Mary the sister of Lazarus, Mary Magdalen, out of whom it is said, Jesus Christ had cast
seven
96 The RepentuJice of the unchaste Wo man »
seven devils, and the woman, of our text, were one and the same person.
We do not intend to enter on these discussions. It is sufficient to know, first, that the woman here in question Hved in the city of Nain, whicli suiijciently distinguishes her from Mary the sisier of Lazarus, who was of Bethany, and from Mary Magdalen, who pro- bably was so called, because she was born at Magdala^ a little town in the tribe of Manasseh. Secondly, the v/oman of our text was one of a bad life, that is to say, guilty of impurity. The original . word signifies a sinner. This term sometimes signifies in scripture the condition of such as lived out of the covenant, and in this sense it is used in the epistle to the Gala- tians, where St Paul calls pagans sinners : but the word is applied in Greek authors to those women who were such as all the circumstances of our history en- gage us to consider this woman. Though it is easy to determine the sin of this woman in general, yet it is not so easy to determine the particular kind, whe- ther it had been adultery, or prostitution, or only some one criminal intrigue. Our reflections will by turns regard each of these conditions. In fine. It is highly probable, both by the discourse of the Pha- risee, and by the ointment, with which this woman anointed the feet of Jesus Christ, that she was a person of some fortune. This is all I know on this sort of questions. Should any one require m.ore, I should not blush to ayow my ignorance, and to recommend him to guides wiser than any I have the honour of being acquainted with, or to such as possess that, which in my opinion^ of all the talents of learned men, seems to me least to be envied, I mean that of having fixed opinions on doubtful subjects. unsupported by any solid arguments.
We will confine ourselves to the principal circum- stances of the life of this sinner ; and to put our obser- vations into a kind of order we will examine first, her
gvief—
The Repentance of the itnchaste Woman, 97.
grief — next, the Saviour to whom she apphed— then, the love that inflamed her — and lastly, the courage with which she was animated. In these four circum^ stances we observe four chief characters of repent- ance. First, Repentance must be lively, and accom- panied with keen remorse. Our sinner weeps, and her fears speak the language of her heart. Secondly, Repentance must be wise in its application. Our sin- ner humbles herself at the feet of him, xvho is the pro- pitiation for our sinSj and not for ours only^ but also for the sins of the ickole worlds 1 John ii. 2. Thirdly, Re- pentance must be tender in its exercise, and acts of divine love must take place of the love of sin. Fourth- ly, Repentance must be bold. Our sinner surmounts all the scruples dictated by false honour, she goes into the house of the Pharisee, and acknowledges her mis- conduct in the presence of all the guests, and was no more ashamed to disavow her former crimes than she had been to commit them.
We consider, in the repentance of this woman ths grief Vvhh which she w-as penetrated. Repentance must be accompanied \vi:h keen remorse. It is the chief character of it. In v.hatever class of unchaste people this woman ought lo be placed, whether she had been a common prostitute, or an adulteress, or whether being unmarried she had abandoned herself for once to criminal voluptuousness, she had too much reason to weep and lament. If she had been guiiry of pro- stitution^ she could not shed tears too bitter. Can any colours sufficiently describe a woman, who is arrived at such a pitch of impurity as to eradicate every de- gree of modesty ; a woman letting herself out to in- famy, and giving herself up to the highest bidder; one who publicly devotes hei-self to the greatest ex- cesses, whose house is a school of abomination, whence proceed these detestable maxims, which poison the minds of men, and those infamous de- baucheries, which infect the body, and throw whole
families
93 The Repenimice of the unchaste Woman,
families into a state of putrefaction ? It is saying too little to affirm that this woman ought to shed bitter tears at the recollection of her scandalous and disso- lute life. The priests and magistrates, and people of Nain ought to have covered themselves in sackcloth and ashes for having tolerated such a house, for not having one spark of the zeal of Phhiehas the son of Eieazar^ Numb. xxv. I i. For having left one stone upon another as a monument of the profligacy of the city, and for not having erased the very foundations of such a house though they, who were employed in the business, had been buried in the ruins. One such house suffered in a city is enough to draw down the curse of heaven on a whole province, a whole kingdom. Rome, what a fair opportunity have I nov/ to con- found thee I Am I not able to produce in the sight of the whole world full proof of thy shame and infamy ? Do not a part of thy revenues proceed from a tax on prostitution*? Are not prostitutes of both sexes thy nursing fathers^ and mussing mothers P is not the holy see in part supported, to use the language of scripture, by the hire of a ichof^e, and the price of a dog P Deut. xxxii. 18. But alas I I should leave thee too much reason to retort. I should fear, you would oppose our excesses against your excesses. I should have too much reason to fear a wound by the dart shot at thee. I should trem.ble lest thou shouldest draw it smoking from tbine own unclean heart, and lodge it in ours. O God I tcciLh Ditf Jiands to-day to n-ar^ and my fingers to fight. My brethren, should access to this pulpit be forever forbidden to us in future ; though I were sure this disr coarse would be considered as a torch of sedition in- tended to set all these provinces in a flame ; and should a part of the punishment due to the fomentors of the crime fail upon the head of him who hath the courage to : prove it, I do, and 1 will declare, that the pro- Sjciity of these provinces can never, no never be well
established
* Sec the Sccpiid volume of these Sv.rnrop.'^, Serm. X. p. 270. ir*
the rj(;te.
The Repentance of the unchaste Woman. 99
established, while such affronts are publicly offered to the majesty of that God, zoko is of purer eijes than to behold evil, Hab. i. 13. Ah I Proclaim no more fasls, convoke no more solemn assemblies, appoint no more public prayers to avert the anger of heaven. " Let not the priests, the ministers of the Lord weep between the porch and the altar, let them not say, spare thy people,
0 Lord, and give not thine heritage to reproach," Joel ii. 17. All this exterior of devotion will be useless, w'hile there are amongst us places publicly set apart for impurity. The filthy vapour that proceeds from them will ascend, and form a thick cloud between us and the throne of grace, a cloud which the most ardent prayers cannot pierce through.
Perhaps our penitent had been guilty of adultenj. What idea must a v/oman form of herself, if she have committed this crime, and considers it in its true point of light ? Let her attentively observe the dangerous condition into which she hath plunged herself, and that to which she is yet exposed. She hath taken for her model the w^oman described by Solomon, and who hath had too many copies in latter ages, that strange woman in the attire of an harlot, who is subtle of heart, loud and stubborn, her feet abiding not in her house, 710ZV 'i>:ithout, now in the streets, hjing in z^ait at everij corner, and saying to such among the youth as are void of understanding, '* 1 have peace-offerings with mc, this day have I paid my vows. I have decked my bed with coverings of tapestry, with fine linen of Egypt.
1 have perfumed my bed with myrrh, aloes, and cin- namon. Come, let us take our fill of love, for the good man is not at home, he is gone a long journey, and will not come home till the day appointed," Prov. vii. 5, &c. Is it necessary, think you, my brethren, to alter many of these descriptive expressions to give a likeness of the manners of our times ?
Are not modern dissipations described in the per- petual motion of this strange xcoman, whose feet abide
not
100 The Repentance of the unchaste Woman.
not in her house^ who is nozo) xmthont in the country, then in the streets, and at everij corner P What are some curious, elegant and fashionable dresses, but the attire of a harlot P Are not the continual artifices, and accu- mulated dissimulations, which some people use to con- ceal future designs, or to cover past crimes, are not these features of this subtle zioman P What are those pains taken to form certain parties of pleasure but features of this woman, who saith, I have peace offerings with me, I have this day paid my vows, conie^ let us solace ourselves with loves P What are certain moments ex- pected with impatience, managed with industry, and employed with avidity, but features of this woman, who saith to fools among the youths, the good man is not at home, nor xvill he come home till the day appointed P , , I stop.. If the unchaste woman in the text, had been guilty of adultery, she had defiled the most sacred and inviolable of all connections. She had kindled discord in the family of him who was the object of her criminal regard. She had given an example of impurity and perfidy to her children and her domes- tics, to the world and to the church. She had af- fronted in the most cruel and fatal manner the man, to whom she owed the tenderest attachment, and the most profound respect. She had covered her parents with disgrace, and provoked such as knew her debau- chery to inquire from which of her ancestors she had received such impure and tainted blood. She had di- vided her heart and her bed with the most implacable enemy of her family. She had hazarded the legiti- macy of her children, and confounded the lawful heir with a spurious oft'spring. Are any tears too bitter to expiate such an odious comphcation of crimes ? Is any quantity too great to shed, to v/ash away such guilt as this ?
But we will not take pains to blacken the reputa- tion of this penitent : w^e may suppose her unchaste, as the evangelists leads us to do, without supposing
her
The Repentance of the unchaste Woman. 101
her an adulteress or a prosLitute. She might have fallen once, and only once. Her sin, however, even in this case must have become a perpetual source of sorrow, thousands and thousands of sad reflections must have pierced her heart. Was this the only fruit of my education? Is this all 1 have learned from the many lessons, that have been given me from my cradle, and which seem so proper to guaid me for ever against the rocks v/here my feeble virtue has been shipwrecked? I have renounced the decency of my sex, the appur- tenances of v/hich always have been timidity, scrupu- losity, delicacy and modesty. I have committed one of those crimes, which, whether it were justice or cruelty, mankind never forgive. I have given my- self up to ihe unkindness and contempt of him, to w'hom I have shamefully sacrificed my honour. I have fixed daggers in the hearts of my parents, I have caused that to be attributed to their neghgence, which was occasioned only by my own depravity and folly. I have banished myself for ever from the company of prudent persons. How can I bear their looks ? Where can I find a night dark enough to conceal me from their sight?
Thus might our mourner think ; but to refer all her grief to motives of this kind w^ould be to insult her repentance. She hath other motives more worthy of a penitent. This heart, the heart that my God demanded with so much condescension and love, I have denied him, and given up to voluptuousness. This body, which should have been a temple of the Holy Ghost ^ is become the den of an impure passion. The time and pains I should have employed in the work of my salvation, I have spent in robbing Jesus Christ of his conquests. I have disputed with my Saviour the souls he redeemed with his blood, and what he came to save I have endeavoured to sink in perdition. I am become the cause of the remorse of my accom- plice in sin, he considers me with horror, he re- proaches
109 The Repentance of the unchaste Woman.
preaches me with the very temptations, to which he exposed me, and when our eyes meet in a rehgioas assembly, or in the performance of a ceremony of devotion, he tacitly tells me, that I made him un- w^orthy to be there. 1 shall be his executioner on his death-bed, perhaps I shall be so through all eternity. I have exposed myself to a thousand dangers, from which nothing but the grace of God hath protected me, to a thousand perils and dreadful consequences, the sad and horrible examples of which stain all his- tory. vSuch are the causes of the tears of this peni- tent. She stood at the feet of Jesus Christ weepings and washed his feet imth tears. This is the first character of true repentance, it consists in part in keen remorse. Repentance must be wise in its application. Our sinner did not go to the foot of mount Sinai to seek for absolution under pretence of her own righteous- ness, and to demand justification as a reward due to her works. She was afraid, as she had reason to be, that the language of that dreadful mountain proceed- ing from the mouth of divine justice would pierce her through. Nor did she endeavour to ward off the blows of justice by covering herself with superstitious practices. She did not say ** wherewith shall I come be- fore the Lord, and bow myself before the high God ? shall I come before him with burnt offerings, with calves of a year old ? Will the Lord be pleased with thousands of rams, or with ten thousands of rivers of oil ? Shall I give my first-born for my transgression, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?" Micah vi. 7. She did not even require priests and Levites to cifer propitiatory sacrifices for her. She discerned the sophisms of error, and acknowledged the Re- deemer of mankind under the veils of infirmity and poverty that covered him. She knew, that the blood of hulls and of goats could not purify the con- science. She knew that Jesus sitting at table with the Pharisee was the only offering, the only victim of vvoilh sufficient to satisfy the justice of an offended
God.
The Repentance of the unchaste Woman, 103
God. She knew that he was made unto sinners luisdom, and righteousness^ and sanctificatton, and redemption : that his name was the only one among men wherebij they might be saved. It was to Jesus Christ that she had recourse, bedewing with tears the feet of him who was about to shed his blood for her, and receiving by an antici- pated faith the benefit of the death that he was going to suffer, she renounced dependance on every kind of satisfaction except his.
The third character of the repentance of this sin- ner is love. It should seem, Jesus Christ would have us consider all her actions as evidences of love, rather than as marks of repentance, she hath loved much. These things are not incompatible. Though perfect love casteth out fear ^ yet it doth not cast out grief, for the pardon of sin received by an elect soul, far from diminishing the regret which it feels for committing it, contributes to augment it. The more we love God, the greater the pain felt for offending him. Yea, this love that makes the happiness of angels, this love that inflames seraphims, this love that sup- ports the believers under the most cruel torments, this love is the greatest punishment of a penitent. To have offended the God we love, a God rendered amiable by infinite perfections, a God so tender, so compassionate as to pardon the very sins we lament ; this love excites in a soul such emotions of repent- ance as we should labour in vain to express, unless your hearts, in concert with our mouths, feel in pro- portion as we describe.
Courage is the fourth character of the repentance, or, if you will, the love of this woman. She doth not say, What will theij say of me P Ah, my brethren, how often hath this single consideration. What icUl they say ofmeP been an obstacle to repentance I How iriany penitents have been discouraged, if not pre- vented by it I To say all in one word, how many souls hath it plunged into perdition I Persons affected by
' this, 3
104; The Repentance of the unchmte Woman,
this, though urged by their consciences to renounce the world and its pleasures, have not been able to get over a fear of the opinions of mankind concern- ing their conversion. Is any one persuaded of the necessity of living retired ? Fhis consideration, What ziill hs said of tneP terrifies him. It will be said, that I choose to be singular, that I affect to distinguish myself from other men, that I am an enemy to social pleasure. Doth any one desire to be exact in the per- formance of divine worship ? This one consideration, What will they say of me P terrifies. They will say, I affect to set myself off for a religious and pious person, I want to impose on the church by a 3pecious outdde ; they will say, I am a weak man full of f?^ncies and phantoms. Our penitent breaks through every, worldly consideration. She goes, *' saith a modern *' author, into a strange house, without being m- ^' vited, to disturb the pleasure of a festival by an ill- " timed sorrow, to cast herself at the feet of the " Saviour, without fearing what would be said, either ** of her past life, or of her present boldness, to make " by this extraoran:!a:y action a kind of public " confession of her dissoluteness, and to suffer for *' the first punishment of her sins, and for a proof " of her conversion, such insults as the pride of the " Pharisees, and her own ruined reputation would *' certainly draw upon her *." We have seen the behaviour of the penitent ; now let us observe the judgment of the Pharisee, ]f this man ze^ere a prophet^ he iwuld haz'e knOiS:nii)ho^ and lo hat manner of xd'omam, this IS thai toucheth km^ for she is a woman of bad fame.
II. The evangelist expressly tells us, that the Pha- risee who thus judged, was the person at whose table Jesus Christ was eating. Whether he were a disciple of Jesus Christ, as is very probable, and as his call- ing * riechier, panegyrique de la Magdeleinc.
The Repenimwe of the unchaste Woman. I(t5
ing Christ master seems to import, or whether he had invited him for other reasons, are questions of little importance, and we will not now examine them. It is certain, om* Saviom* did often eat with some Pha- risees, who far from being his disciples, were the most implacable enemies of his. person and doctrine. If this man were a disciple of Jesus Christ, it sliouid seeiii very strange that he should doubt the divinity of the mission of Christ, and inwardly refuse him even the quality of a prophet. This Pharisee was named Simon, however, nothing obliges us either to" con- found Simon the Pharisee with Simon the leper, men- tioned in Matthew, and to whose house Jesus Christ retired, or the history of our text with that related in the last mentioned place, for the eirctimstances are iery different, as it would be easy to prove, had we not subjects more important to propose to you. Who- ever this Pharisee might be, he said within himself, This man, if he were a pr ophet, would hcive known who^ a)id what rftanner of woman this is that toiicheth him : for she is a sinner. There are four defects in this judg- ment— ^a criminal indolence — an extravagant rash- ness— an intolerable pride*^*-an antichristian cruelty. As we cannot help condemning the opinion of the Pha- f-isee for these four defects, so we cannot avoid cen- suring most of the judgments, tb^t people form on the conduct of their neighbours for the same reasons.
A criminal indolence. That disposition of mind, 1 allow, is very censurable, which inspires a perpetual attention to the actions o^ our neighbours, and the motive of it is sufficient to make us abhor the prac* tice. We have reason to think, that the more f)Bople pry into the conduct of their neighbours, the more they intend to gratify the barbarous pleasure of de* faming them : but there is a disposition far more cen- surable still, and that is to be always ready to form a rigorous judgment on the least appearances of im- propi'iety, and without taking pains to inquire, w^he-
voL. r. H " ther
106 The 'Repentance of the unchaste Wonian.-
ther there be no circumstances that dimmish the guilt of an action apparently vvrong, nothing that renders it deserving oi patience or pitj. It doth not belong to us to set ourselves up for judges of the actions of our brethren, to become inquisitors in regard to their manners, and to distribute punishments of sin and re- wards of virtue. At least, when VvC usurp this right, let us not aggravate our conduct by the manner in which we exercise the bold imperious usurpation. Let us not pronounce like bold iniquitous judges on the actions of those sinners, to whom nature, society, and religion ought to unite us in an affectionate man- ner. Let us procure exact informations of the causes of such criminals as we summon before our tribunals, and let us not deliver our sentences till we have weighed ia a just balance whatever tends to condemn, or to absolve them. This would bridle our malignity. We should be constrained to suspend for a long time our avidity to solicit, and to hasten the death of a sinner. The pleasure of declaring him guilty would be counterbalanced by the pain of trying the cause. Did this Pharisee give himself time to examine the whole conduct of the sinner, as he called her ? Did he enter into all the discussions necessary tc determine whether she were a penitent sinner ,'oi- an obstinate sin- ner : whether she were reformed, or hardened like a reprobate in the practice of sin? No certainly. At the sight of the woman he recollects only the crimes, of which she had been guilty ; he did not see her, and he did not choose to see her in any other point of light : he pronounced her character rashly, and he wanted Jesus Christ to be as rash as himself, this is a woman of bad fame. Do you not perceive, my breth- ren, what wicked indolence animated this iniquit- ous judge, and perverted liis judgment ?
The Pharisee sinned by rashness. See how he judges of the conduct of Christ in regard to the woman, and of what the woman ought to expect of Jesus
Christ,
The Repeniaiwe of the unchaste PVoman, 107
Christ, on supposition his mission had been divinCy this man, if he were a prophet would have known who, and what manner of leoman this is that touched htm, for she IS a sinner. This opinion supposes, that a prophet ought not in any case to have patience with a woman of this sort. As if it were impossible for a prophet to have any design impenetrable to the eye of a Pha- risee ! As if any one had a right to censure the conduct of a man under the direction of the infinite Spirit I Eut it is because this man is a prophet, it is because he is more than a prophet, it is because he is the spring; the ocean, from which all the prophets derived the supernatural knowledge of the greatest mysteries of revelation, of predicting events the least likely to Gome to pass, of seeing into the most distant and im- penetrable futurity ; it is because of this, that he is capable of forming a just notion of the character of a sinner, and the nature of a sin. Yes, none but God can form such a judgment. JVho art thou, that judgest another P Rom. xiv. 4. Such a judgment de- pends on so many difficult combinations, that none but an infinite intelligence is cajmble of making it with exactness.
In order to judge properly of a crime, and a cri- minal, we must examine the power of the tempta- tions to vv^hich he was exposed, the opportunities given him to avoid it, the force of his natural con- stitution, the motives that animated him, the resist- an€e he made, the virtues he practised, the talents^ God gave him, the education he had, what know- ledge he had acquir'ed, what conflicts he endured, what remorse he 1ms felt. An exact com}>arison ough t to be made of his sins with his virtues, in order to determine whether sin prevails over virtue, or whe- ther virtue prevails over sin, and on this confronting of evidence a proper idea of the sinner in question must be formed. It must be examined, whether he were seduced by ignortince, or whether he were al-:
lured
108 The Bepentance of the Unchaste Woman,
lured by example, or whether he yielded through weakness, whether dissipation or ohstinacy, malice, or contempt of God and his law confirmed him in sin. On the examination of all these articles depends the truth of the judgment, which we form of a fel- low creature. There needs nothing but one circum- stance, nothing but one degree of more or less in a moral action to change the nature of it, to render it pardonable or irremissible, deserving compassion or horror. Now who is he, who is the man, that is equal to this combination ? Accordingly, nothing more directly violates the laws of benevolence and justice than some decisive opinions, which we think proper to give on the characters of our neighbours. It is in- deed the office of judges to punish such crimes as dis- turb the peace of society ; and each individual may say to his brethren, this is the path of virtue, that is the road of vice. We have authority indeed to inform them that the unrighteom, that is adiflterers, idolaters, crnd fornicators shall not inherit the kingdom of God, 1 Cor. vi. 9, 10. Indeed we ought to apprize them of dan- ger, and to make them tremble at the sight of the bottomless pit, toward which they are advancing a great pace : but to make such a combination as we have described, and to pronounce such and such peo- ple reprobates is rashness, it is to assume all the au- thority of the sovereign judge.
There is in the opinion of the Pharisee a selfish pride. What is it then that makes this woman deserve bis indignation ? At what tribunal will she be found more odious than other sinners who insolently lift their heads both in the world and the church ? It is at the tribunal of pride. Thou superb Pharisee ! Open thine eyes, see, look, examine, there is with- in the walls, where thy feast is prepared, there is even at thy table a much greater sinner than this woman, and that sinner is thyself. The sin, of which thou art guilty, find which is more abcniinable than un-
chastitv.
The llepcntarice of the unchaste IVonian. 109
€liastit7, more abominable than adultery, more abo- minable than prostitution itself, is pride, and above all Pharisaical pride. The sin of pride is always hateful in the eyes of God, whether it be pride of honour, pride of fortune, or pride of power ; but pride, arising from an opinion of our own righteous- ness is a direct crime against the divine majesty. On what principles, good God I is such a pride founded I What insolence has he, who is animated with it when he presents himself before God ? He appears without fear and dread before that terrible throne, in the presence of which sei'aphims cover their faces, and the heavens themselves are unclean. He ventures to say to himself, I have done all my duty. I have had as much respect for Almighty God as he deserves. I have had as much zeal and ardour in prayer as the ex- ercise requires. I have so restrained my tongue as to have no word, so directed my mind as to have no thought, to kept my heart as to have no criminal emotion to reproach myself with ; or if I have had at any time any frailty, I have so fully made amends for it by my virtue, that I have sufficiently satisfied all the just demands of God. I ask no favour, I w^ant nothing but justice. Let the judge of the world call me before him. Let devouring fire, and eternal flames glitter in my presence. Let the tribunal of re- tribution be prepared before me. My arm shall sare me, and a recollection of my own righteousness shall support me in beholding all these objects. You suf- ficiently perceive, my brethren, what makes this disposition so hateful, and we need not enlarge on the subject. Humility is the supplement of the virtues of the greatest saints. What application soever we have made to our duty, wc have always fallen short of our obligations. We owe so much homage to God as to acknowledge, that we cannot stand before him, unless we be objects of his mercy : and a crime
humbly
3 10 The Repentance of the unchaste lloman.
iiumbJy acknowledged is more tolerable in his eyes, than a virtae set forth with pride and parade.
What above all poisons the judgment of the Pha- risee is that spirit of crueltij which we have observed. He was content, though all the tears of true repent- -ance shed by this woman were shed in vain, and wished, when the woman had recourse to mercy, that God would have assumed in that very instant a shocking character, that is, that he would have despised the sacrifice of a broken and a CGntrite heart, Ybii\. li. 17. It is dehght- •ful, my brethren, to combat such a fatal pretence. There is a high satisfaction in tilling one's mind with just and elevated ideas of divine mercy. All we say against the barbarity of the Pharisee will serve to strengthen our faith, when Satan endeavours to drive us to despair, as he endeavoured once to destroy us by security ; when he magnifies the sins we have commit- ted, as he diminished them, when he tempted us to commit them.
The me} xy of God is not an absti 'act atti ibiite^ discovered with great difficulty through shades and darkness by our weak reason : but it is an attribute issuing from that among his other perfections, of which he hath given the most clear and sensible proois, I mean his goodness. All things preach to us, that Got! is^<5od. There is no star in the firmament, no wave of the ocean, no production of the earth, no plant in our gardens, no period in our duration, no gifts of his favour, I had almost said no strokes of his anger, which do not contribute to prove this proposition, God is good.
An idea of the mercy ff God is not particular to so^ne places, io any age, nat'ion, religion, or sect. Although the empire of truth doth not depend on the number of those that submit to it, theie is always some ground to suspect we are deceived, when we are singular in our opinions, and the whole world contradict us : but here the sentiments of all mankind to a certain point agree vi'ith ours. All have ackncv/jcdged themselves
guilty,
The Repenta7ice of the unchaste IVoman, 111
guilty, and all have professed to worship a merciful God. Though mankind have entertained different sentiments on the nature of true repentance, yet all have acknowledged the prerogatives of it.
The idea of the mercy of God is not founded merely on liuman speculations, subject to error: but it is founded on clear revelation; and revelation preaches this mercy far more emphatically than reason. These decisions are not such as are expressed in a vague and obscure manner, so as to leave room for doubt and uncer- tainty, but they are clear, .inteiligible, and reiterated .
The decisions ofr^vekition concerning the mercy of God do not leave us to consider it as a doctrine incongruous -with the whole of religion, or unconnected with any particular doctrine taught as a part of it : but they establiskit.as^a capital doctrine, and on which the whole systeui af religion turns.. What is our religion? It is a dispensation of mercy. It is a supplement to hu- man fra.il ty. It is a refuge for penitent siimers from :thc. pursuits of divine justice. It is a -covenant, in •Avhich we engage to give oui selves wholly up to the laws of God, and God condescends to accept our imperfect services, and to pardon our sins, how enor- mous soever they have been, on our genuine repent- ance. TJie promises of mercy made to us in religion are not restrained to sinners of a particular order, nor to sin of a particular kind ; but they regard all sinners and all sins of every possible kind. There is no crime so odious, no circumstance so aggravating, no life so obstinately spent in sin, as not to be pitiable and pardon- able, when the sinner affectionately and sincerely re- turns to God. If ])erseverance in evil, if the sin against the Holy Ghost exclude people from mercy, it is because they render repentance impracticable, not because they render it ineffectual.
The doctrine of divine mercy i^ not foiuuled on pro- mises to be accomplished at some remote and distant period; hnt experience hath jttsti fed these promises. W^itness the people of Israel, witness Moses, David,
Ahab,
llf The Repenca/we of the unchosie IViJinmK
Ahab, Hezekiah, witness Manasseh, Nineveh, Ne- buchadnezzar. What hath not repentance done ? Ey repentance the people of Israel suspended the judg- ments of God, when they were ready to fall on them and crush them. By repentance Moses stood in the breach, an(i turned away the wrath of God, By repentance David recovered the joy of his salvation, after he had committed the crim.es of murder and adultery. By re- pentance even Ahab obtained a reprieve. By repentance Hezekiah enlarged the term of his )Mt, fifteen years. By repentance Manasseh saved himself, and his people. By repentance Nineveh obtained a revocation of the decree that a prophet had denounced against it. By- repentance Nebuchadnezzar recovered his understand- ing, and his excellent majesty. It would be easy to en- large this list. So many I'eflections, so many argu- ments against the cruel pretence of the Pharisee.
III. You have seen in our first part the repentance of the immodest woman. In the second you have seen the judgment of the Pharisee. Now it remains to consider the judgment of Jesus Christ concerning them both. " There was a Certain creditor, which had two debtors : the one owed five hundred pence, and the other fifty. And when they had nothing to pay, he frank- ly forgave them both. Tell me therefore, which of them will love him most ? Simon answered and said, I suppose that he to whom he forgave most. And he said unto him, thou hast rightly judged. And he turned to the woman, and ^aid unto Simon, seest thou this wo- man .^ I entered into thiiie house, thou gavest me no water for my feet : but she hath washed my feet with tears, and wiped them with the hairs of her head. Thou gavest me no kiss : but this v»^oman, since the time I came in, hath not ceased to kiss piy feet. Mine head with oil thou didst not anoint : but this woman hath anointed iny feet with ointment. Wherefore I say unto thee, heT sins which are many are forgiven : forshelove- €d much : but to whom little is forgiven, the same Ipveth little/' This is our third part.
The
The Repentance of the unchaste Wojnen, II3
These words have occasioned a famous question. It hath been asked whether the pardon granted by Jesus Christ to this woman were an effect of her love to Jesus Christ : or whether her love to Jesus Christ "were an effect of the pardon she had received from him. The expressions, and the emblems made use of in the text, seem to countenance both these opinions.
The parable proposed by our Saviour favours the latter opinion, that is, that the woman's love to Jesus Christ was an effect of the pardon that she had re- ceived. " A certain creditor had two debtors, when they liad nothing to pay, he frankly forgave the one five hun- dred pence, and the other fifty. Which of them will love him most?" The answer is, He, I suppose, to whom he forgave most. Who doeth not see, that the love of this debtor is an eftect of the acquittance from the debt ? And as this acquittance here represents the pardon of sin, who doeth not see that the love of this woman, and of all others in her condition, is here stated as the ef- fect of this pardon ? But the application which Jesus Christ makes of this parable, seems to favour the op- posite opinion, that is, that the love here spoken of was the cause and not the effect of pardon. " Seest thou this woman?" Said Jesus Christ to Simon, *T entered in- to thine house, thou gavest me no water for my feet : but she hath washed my feet with tears, and wiped them with the hairs of her head. Thou gavest me no kiss: but this woman, since the time I came in, hath not ceased to kiss my fe^t. Mine head with oil thou didst not anoint : but this woman hath anointed my feet with ointment. Wherefore I say unto thee, her sins which are many are forgiven ; for she loved much." Dcth it not seem, thatthe application of this parable proposes the pardon of the sins €>f this penitent, as being both the cause and the effect of her love ? "
This question certainly deserves elucidation, be- cause it regards words proceeding from the mouth' of Jesus Christ him.self, and on that account worthy of >)eing studied with the utmost care : but is the question
114 ^he Repentance of the unchaste Woman.
as important as some have pretended ? You may find some int-erpreters ready to excommmiicate one another on accomit of this question, and to accuse their •antagonists of subverting all the foundations of true *Bf'^iigion. There have been times ^and may such times never return) I say, there were times, in which people thought they distinguished their zeal by taking as much pains to envenam controversies, as they ought to have taken to conciliate them; and when they ought to serve true religion by aggravating the errors of opposite religions. On these principles, such as took the words of the text in the first sense taxed the other side with subverting the whole doctrine of free justi- fication : for, said they, if the pardon here granted to the sinner be an effect of her love to Jesus Christ, what become of all the passages of scidpture, which say, that grace, and grace alone, obtains the remission of sin ? They of the opposite sentiment accused the others with subverting all the grounds of morality ; for, said they, if this woman's love to Jesus Christ be only an effect of pardon, it clearly follov>^s, that she had been pardoned before she exercised love : but if this be the case what become of all the passages of the gospel, which make loving God a part of the essence of that faith without which there is no forgiveness ? Do you not see, my brethren, in this way of disputing, that unhappy spirit of party, which defends the truth with the arms of falsehood ; the spirit that hath caused so many ravages in the church, and which is one of the strongest objections that the enemy of mankind can oppose against a reunion of religious sentiments, so much desired by all good men ? What then, mi ay it nt)t be aifirmed in a very sound sense, that we love God before we obtain the pardon of our sins ? Have we not declaimed against the doctrine of such divines as have advanced that attrition alone, that is to say, a fear of hell without any degree of love to God was suf- ficient to open the gates of heaven to a penitent ? Re-