Chapter I: CHARITY, says he, is out of a pure heart: that is, it proceeds (2)

In this way, you see, the text is reasonably explained of _moral discipline_ in this world, not of future _punishment_. What may be thought to occasion some little difficulty, or, at least, particularity, in the mode of writing, is, that _one_ metaphor seems here employed to explain _another_. But we should rather conceive of the two metaphors, as employed, jointly and severally, to express this moral sentiment—‘That affliction contributes to preserve and improve our virtue.’ The allusion to the effects of _salt_ was exceedingly obvious and natural in the mouth of a Jew, addressing himself to Jews[97]. Not but it was common enough, too, in Gentile writers[98]. And the other allusion to the effects of _fire_ (though the two figures are in a manner run together by speaking of the _subject_, to which they are applied, as _salted_ with fire). This allusion, I say, to _fire_, is justified by the familiar use of it, in the sacred writings. For thus we are told, _that fire must try every man’s work_[99]—that _our faith is tried, as gold by fire_[100]—that _a fiery trial must try us_[101]—that, _as gold is tried in the fire_, so are _acceptable men in the furnace of adversity_[102]—and in other instances.

Of _both_ these natural images, it may be affirmed, that they are not unusually applied to moral subjects: and, if we thus _apply_ them in the text, the _use_ to ourselves, according to this interpretation, is considerable and even important; no less, than the seeing enforced, in the most lively manner, and by our Saviour himself, this great moral and evangelical lesson—_that the virtue of a good mind must be maintained at whatever expence of trouble and self-denial_—and for this plain reason, because, though _no chastening for the present seem to be joyous, but grievous; nevertheless, afterward, it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of righteousness unto them, which are exercised thereby_[103].

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

For, having spoken of _Christian discipline_ under the name of _salt_, which _preserves_ what it searches, our Lord very naturally takes advantage of this idea, and transfers the appellation to _Christian faith_, which was necessary to support his followers under that discipline, and has this property, in common with _salt_, that it gives soundness and incorruption to the subject on which it operates. _Salt_, says he, _is good: but, if salt have lost its saltness, wherewith will ye season it?_ That is, _faith in me_ (for by _salt_, you easily perceive, I now mean that faith, which is your true _seasoning_, and can alone maintain your firmness and integrity under all trials; this _faith_, I say) is a salutary principle: but take notice, if you suffer that principle, so active and efficacious, to decay and lose its virtue, there are no means left to retrieve it. Like _salt_, grown insipid, it can never recover its former quality, but is for ever worthless and useless[104]. Therefore, adds he, take care to _have_, that is, retain, this _salt_, this good seasoning of your Christian principles, _in yourselves_; which will preserve you incorrupt, as individuals: and, as _salt_, from its necessary use at the table, is further an emblem of union and friendship, give proof of these principles in your intercourse with all Christians, so as to keep _peace one with another_; for, by this _seasoning_ of peace, ye will best preserve yourselves entire, as _a body of men_, or society[105].

We see, then, that understanding this _fire_, with which _every one shall be salted_, of the fire of _affliction_ only, which, like salt, is to try and preserve the moral integrity of all believers, and not of the _fire which dieth not_, and, according to the former interpretation, was to preserve _offenders_ in a perpetual capacity of enduring future punishment; understanding, I say, this metaphor in the former sense, we have an easy, elegant, and extremely useful sense in the words of the text: a sense, which perfectly agrees with what precedes the text, and illustrates what follows it: whereas, in the other way of explaining these words, it will be difficult to shew their coherence with the subsequent verse, though they admit an application to the foregoing.

On the whole, I leave it to yourselves to judge, which of the two interpretations, now proposed to you, is the proper one. I know of no other, that so well deserves your notice, as these two: and, if _either_ of them be admissible, we have gained the satisfaction of understanding a very obscure passage of holy Scripture. But we have gained more, than this: for, whichever we prefer, a momentous inference may be drawn from it. EITHER, we must resolve to stick close to our CHRISTIAN FAITH AND PRINCIPLES, as the only means of preserving our integrity, and making us fit for the favour of God, to whatever trials of any kind they may expose us: OR, we shall have to reflect, what SUFFERING, terrible beyond imagination, is reserved for obstinately impenitent and incorrigible sinners.

SERMON XII.

PREACHED FEBRUARY 9, 1766.

GAL. vi. 3.

_If a man think himself to be something, when he is nothing, he
deceiveth himself._

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

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

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

SECONDLY, if this _mode_ of teaching were not necessary, it would still be preferable to any other for its _own proper dignity_. A philosopher in the schools, or a divine in his closet, may deduce the laws of morality with a minute exactness. But the authority of an Apostle disdains this care, and awakens the consciences of men by some _general_ precept, by some large and _comprehensive_ observation. It becomes the majesty of his character to deliver the principles of right conduct in _few and weighty words_: his precepts are _Laws_; and his observations, _Oracles_: it is for others to speculate upon them with curiosity, and draw them out into systems.

THIRDLY, sometimes the very address of a writer leads him to _generalize_ his observations. It is, when a more direct and pointed manner would press too closely on the mind, and, by making the application necessary, indispose us to conviction; whereas, when a reproof presents itself in this form, less offence is likely to be given by it, the application being left, in a good degree, to ourselves.

This last, we shall find, was the case of St. Paul in the text; in whose behalf, therefore, we need not, in the present instance, plead the _necessity_, the _convenience_, or the _dignity_ of this method of instruction; though these reasons, we see, might, on other occasions, be very justly alledged.

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

One natural feature in the character of these vain-glorious boasters, was the contempt with which they treated the more infirm Christians, and the little consideration they had for such of their brethren as happened to be _overtaken with any fault_. This proud, unchristian temper he therefore takes upon him to correct—_Brethren_, says he, _if any man be overtaken with a fault, you, that are spiritual, restore such a one in the spirit of meekness, considering thyself, lest thou also be tempted: Bear ye one another’s burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ_. And then follows the observation of the text—_for, if a man think himself to be something, when he is nothing, he deceiveth himself_: leaving the conceited Doctors and their admirers to apply these general words, as they saw fit; but clearly enough pointing to some persons among them, _who took themselves to be something_, and yet miserably _deceived themselves_, in that, indeed, they _were nothing_. In what respects their conduct shewed them to be so, he leaves to their own sagacity, quickened by the poignancy of this covert reproof, to find out.

Such is the Apostle’s _address_ in this divine admonition; and such the _force_ (the greater, _for_ the address) of the reprehension conveyed in it!

But now, what those RESPECTS are, in which these sufficient men shewed themselves _to be nothing_, though St. Paul thought it not fit to specify them to the _Galatians_, it may be _useful to us_, as it certainly is left _free_ for us, to inquire.

FIRST, then, their very _Conceit_ was a certain argument of their _Folly_. For, what surer indication of a weak and shallow man, than his proneness to think highly of himself! Wise men understand themselves at another rate. They are too conscious of their own infirmities; they know their judgment to be too fallible, their apprehension too slow, their knowledge too scanty, their wills too feeble, and their passions too strong, to give way to this insolent exultation of heart, to indulge in this conceit of their own importance, and much less to form injurious comparisons between themselves and others. They understand, that the only question is concerning the different degrees of _weakness and imperfection_; and that, where the best come far short of what they should be, all pretence of boasting is cut off.

SECONDLY, these superior airs of importance were unsuitable to the nature of their religion, and shewed how little proficiency they had made in it; BECAUSE, as _Christians_, whatever light and knowledge they laid claim to, they must needs confess was not their own, but derived to them from above. All, these spiritual men could pretend to know of divine things, had been freely and solely revealed to them by the Spirit of God; a distinction, which ought indeed to fill their hearts with gratitude, but could be no proper foundation of their pride or vain-glory. For, as the Apostle himself argues in another place, _Who maketh thee to differ from another? And what hast thou, which thou didst not receive? Now, if thou didst receive it, why dost thou glory, as if thou hadst not received it[106]?_

Whatever temptation, therefore, there might be to a poor vain heathen to pride himself in his pittance of knowledge or virtue, a CHRISTIAN should, by the very principles of his religion, be more modest, and ascribe his proficiency in either, not to himself, but to the indulgent favour and good pleasure of God.

THIRDLY, these boasters betrayed themselves by the _fruits_, which this self-importance produced, namely, their contemptuous and unfeeling treatment of their brethren under any instance of their weakness and frailty. Such behaviour was doubly ridiculous: _first_, as it implied an ignorance of their own infirmity, and liableness to temptation; and, _then_, as it argued a total want of _Charity_, the most essential part of their religion, without which a man is _nothing_, whatever gifts and graces of other kinds he may possess[107].

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

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

_Lastly_, this presumptuous conceit is _belyed_ in the EVENT, I mean in the opinion of those very persons, to whom the vain man would willingly recommend himself. For the natural effect of such presumption is, to excite the _contempt_ of the wise, and the _envy_ of the rest. Men of discernment easily penetrate the delusion, and, knowing how little reason there is for any man to pride himself in his knowledge or virtue, are provoked to entertain an ostentatious display of those qualities with that ridicule, it so well deserves: while the weaker sort always take themselves to be insulted by superior accomplishments; and rarely wait the just provocation of _vain-glory_ to malign and envy those, to whom they belong.

But the misfortune does not stop here. Contempt and Envy are active and vigilant passions; they are quick at espying a weakness, and spare no pains to expose it: and where can this merciless inquisition end, but in the proud man’s mortification to see his best faculties slighted, or traduced, and all his imperfections laid bare and exposed? So good reason had the Apostle to warn the Galatian teachers against _vain-glory_, in the close of the preceding chapter—_Let us_, says he, _not be vain-glorious, provoking one another, envying one another_; an exhortation which the _vain-glorious_ among them should have listened to, even for their own sakes.

We see, then, that, _in these several respects_, a man, who _takes himself to be something_, in effect proves himself _to be nothing_. So full of instruction is the plain unpretending aphorism in the text to the persons concerned!

The Apostle adds—that such a man DECEIVETH HIMSELF—which must needs be, and cannot want to be enlarged upon; since it appears in the very instances, in which his _nothingness_ has been shewn. The _vain-glorious_ Christian is manifestly and notoriously deceived in _thinking himself something_—while that very conceit shews the contrary—while it shews that he overlooks the very principles of his religion—while it proves him to be void of Christian charity, the very end of the commandment—while it betrays him into ignorance and folly, and therefore tends to subvert the very foundation, on which his _vain-glory_ is raised—while, lastly, in the event, it deprives him of that very consideration to which he aspires.

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

And, if this be the case of human learning, what must we think of _divine_? where Reason teaches nothing, beyond the existence and attributes of God, and, as to every thing else, without the aid of _Revelation_, is stark-blind. _The things of God knoweth no man but the Spirit of God_—is an assertion, to which common sense and common experience must assent. Yet shall every idle Speculatist, who has but the confidence to call himself a Philosopher, treat the _divine word_, as freely as any ordinary subject; and pronounce as peremptorily of the _revealed will of God_, which the Angels themselves adore in silence, as if he knew for certain that his poor and scanty understanding was commensurate with _the councils of the most High_!

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

Not, that the proper remedy for this evil, of _Self-conceit_, is a vile subjection of the understanding, which our holy Religion disdains, and to which none but slaves will submit—nor yet Scepticism, another vice, to which the less sanguine disputers of this world are much addicted—but a modest use of the faculties we possess, and above all, _charity_. It is but another species of _pride_, to pretend that we know nothing; _Christian humility_ is best expressed in referring, what we know, to the good of others. Without this reference, all our claims of superior wisdom are vain and delusive: for it is with _knowledge_, as with faith, unless it _work by charity_, it is nothing.

To return to the text, then, and to conclude.

Let the ignominy of this _Self-delusion_ deter us, if nothing else can, from the unseemly arrogance, it so well exposes and condemns. And let us learn to revere the wisdom of the great Apostle, who, by couching so momentous an admonition in so plain terms, has taught us, That, as conceit and vain-glory terminate in shame and disappointment; so the modesty of unpretending knowledge may be entitled to our highest esteem.

SERMON XIII.

PREACHED MAY 16, 1773.

2 COR. x. 12.

_We dare not make ourselves of the number, or compare ourselves,
with some that commend themselves: But they, measuring themselves
by themselves, and comparing themselves among themselves, are not
wise._

I shall not inquire, _who_ the persons were, to whom these words are applied. It is enough, for the use I intend to make of them, to observe, that they contain a censure of _some_ persons, “who, conscious of certain advantages, and too much taken up in the contemplation of them, came to think better of themselves, and, consequently, worse of others, than they had reason to do; demonstrating, by this, their partiality (as the Apostle gently remonstrates), that _they were not wise_.”

But this censure admits a more extensive application. _Measuring themselves by themselves, and comparing themselves among themselves_, whole nations, and even ages, as well as individuals, are, sometimes, misled in the estimate they make of their own worth; and never more easily, or remarkably, than when the object of their partial fondness is their proficiency in _knowledge_, and, above all, in _religious knowledge_: for nothing flatters the pride of human nature so much, as an idea of superiority in the exercise of its _best faculties_, on the _noblest subjects_.

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

The improvements, that have been made, for two or three centuries past, in almost every art and science, seem to authorize the _present age_ to think with some respect, of itself. It accordingly exults in the idea of its own wisdom: and _this country_, in particular, which has contributed its full share to those improvements, may well be thought as forward, as any other, to pay itself this tribute of self-esteem. It would not be strange, if it appeared, on inquiry, That some _presumption_ had, in either case, been indulged; and had even operated, according to the _nature_ of presumption, to the prejudice of that claim, which, with so much confidence, has been set up. But I have now in view, only, _one effect_ of this presumption; I mean, the complacency which many take in supposing, That the _present age_ excels equally in _sacred_ and _secular_ learning; and, with regard to ourselves, That _our_ theological knowledge as much surpasses that of our forefathers at the Reformation, as _their_ knowledge did, the thick and gross ignorance of the monkish ages.

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

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

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

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

But to this charge of ignorance you will easily reply, by asking,

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

Indeed, in the nature of the thing, it is scarce possible, that the Reformers should be so little versed, as the objection supposes, in the original scriptures. For, whether the _new learning_ as it was called, had, or had not, been cultivated, _before_ the Reformation began, we may be sure it would _then_ be cultivated with the utmost assiduity; both, because it was a _new_ learning, that is, because the charms of novelty would naturally engage many in the study of it; and, because no step could be taken in the Reformation, without some proficiency in _that_ learning. Now, if you consider, of what the human mind is capable, when pushed on by two such active principles, as _learned curiosity_, and _religious zeal_, you will conclude with yourselves, even without recurring to positive testimony, that the Reformers must needs have made an acquaintance with the authentic text: _such_ an acquaintance, as would let them into a clear apprehension, at least, of those doctrines, which are the _elementary_, as we may say, or necessary ingredients in the constitution of a truly Christian Church.

If you hesitate about coming to this conclusion, the reason, I suppose, is, that you consider the Reformers as just then emerging from the darkness of Popery, and therefore so far blinded by the prejudices of _that_ church[108], or by their own[109] prejudices against it, as not to see distinctly, and at once, the true sense of Scripture, though they might be competently skilled in the learned languages. And, possibly, there is some truth, as well as plausibility, in this suggestion, as applied to the case of the foreign Protestant Churches, which were formed with too much haste, and in a time of too much heat, to be quite free from all such exceptions. But, then, you will call to mind,

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

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

Still, perhaps, the main point, on which this question, concerning the comparative skill of the two periods, in matters of religion, turns, is yet untouched; which is, that the amazing progress, confessedly made, since the æra of the Reformation, in all true _Philosophy_, must have contributed very largely to the increase of _religious_ knowledge; and that so much light of science, as we now enjoy, must have served to give us a clearer insight, than our benighted ancestors had, into the _revealed doctrines of_ Christianity.

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

4. In the last place, That the doctrines in question, being _purely Christian_, that is, such as it pleased God to reveal to mankind concerning his eternal purpose in Christ Jesus,—that the doctrines, I say, having this original, and being of this nature, have, possibly, no communication with the discoveries of later times: that, of the divine councils, on such a subject, we could have known nothing, if the Revelation had been silent; and that all we _do_ know, when it speaks clearest, is only _what_ those councils are, not on what _grounds_ of reason they stand; whether it be, that such knowledge is unattainable by our faculties, or that it was seen to be improper for our situation: that, to say the least, all the efforts of the ablest men to explain the peculiar fundamental doctrines of our religion, on the principles of our philosophy, have not hitherto been so successful, as to make it certain that these doctrines are indeed cognisable by human reason: that possibly, therefore, those doctrines are the objects of _faith_, simply, and not of knowledge; in other words, that they are no clearer to us at this day, than they were to those plainer men, who lived in the sixteenth century[110].

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

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

This _fact_, however, does not imply, that the age of the Reformation was equally enlightened with the present; or that the clearer light, we enjoy, is of no service to religion. Our improved CRITICISM has been of use in ascertaining the authority, and, sometimes, in clearing the smaller difficulties, of the sacred text; and our improved PHILOSOPHY has enabled many great men to set the evidences of revealed religion, in a juster and stronger light: but, with the _doctrines_ themselves, our improvements, of whatever kind, have no concern. Be our proficiency in human science what it may, those doctrines are the _same_ still. Reason, under any degree of cultivation, may if we please to misapply it, perplex and corrupt our faith; but will never be able to see to the bottom of those _judgments_, which are _unsearchable_, nor to clear up those _ways_, which are _past finding out_[111].

To conclude: I am not, now, making the panegyric of those venerable men, to whom we are indebted for our religious establishment. They were our inferiors, if you will, in many respects. But, if, _measuring ourselves by ourselves, and comparing ourselves among ourselves_, we overlook their real abilities and qualifications; if we pronounce them ignorant of _good letters_, because they lived in an age, which we have learned to call barbarous; and ignorant of the _Christian religion_, because they were not practised in our philosophy; we, probably, do THEM great injustice, and take, it may be, not the best method of doing honour to OURSELVES.

SERMON XIV.

PREACHED APRIL 27, 1766.

St. MARK, iv. 24.

_Take heed what ye hear._

Or, as the equivalent phrase is in

St. LUKE, viii. 18.

_Take heed_ HOW _ye hear_.

Faith, says the Apostle, _cometh by hearing, and hearing by the word of God_[112]. The assertion was strictly true in the early days of the Gospel, before books were yet written and spread abroad for the edification of the Church. The inlet of faith was, then, the _ear_: through that organ only was conveyed, from the tongue of the preacher, _the word of God_. But the case is much the same at all times; even _now_, when books are enough multiplied, and perhaps more than enough, in the Christian world. For, it having pleased God, that a standing ministry should be kept up for the instruction of mankind in _the faith_, and a _woe_ being denounced against such, as have received this commission, and yet _preach not the Gospel_[113], the _sole_ way by which _faith cometh_ to most men, and the _principal_, by which it cometh to almost all, is still that of _hearing_. It is still by the _word preached_, that men, in general, come to the faith of Christ, and are confirmed in the profession of it.

Our Lord, then, foreseeing how much would depend on this faculty of _hearing_, and finding by experience how liable it was to be abused, thought fit to give his Disciples a particular, and what may almost seem a _new_, precept, for their conduct in this respect. The ancient masters of rhetoric, and of morals, had frequently warned their scholars to take heed what _they speak_: but our Divine Master carries his attention still farther; and while his ministers are required, _to speak, as the oracles of God_, the people are very properly instructed by him, _to take heed what they hear_.

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

And it naturally occurs, as the