Chapter I: PROCRASTINATION is the main support of vice; the favourite stratagem, (2)

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

Not that this consideration excuses their guilt: it even aggravates and inflames it. For, when _one thing_, only, _is needful_, and they know it to be so, not to retain a practical, an habitual sense of it, but to suffer every trifle to mislead, every sudden gust of passion to drive them from _the hope_ and end _of their calling_, argues an extreme depravity of mind, and deserves a harsher name than we commonly give to this conduct.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

From these so pernicious vices of the spirit, then, that is, from a _fluctuating faith_, an _inconsiderate levity_, an _inapprehensive deadness of heart_, and a _perverse sophistical abuse of the understanding_, let us emancipate ourselves by a firm, attentive, vigorous, and ingenuous dependance on the promises of the gospel; from these defilements, I say, in particular (having shaken off the other more sordid corruptions of the _flesh and spirit_) let us anxiously _cleanse_ our minds, with the view of _perfecting holiness_, as the text admonishes, IN THE FEAR OF GOD.

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

SERMON XXXIII.

PREACHED APRIL 8, 1776.

1 TIM. iii. 16.

_Without controversy great is the mystery of godliness: God was manifest in the flesh; justified in the spirit; seen of Angels; preached to the Gentiles; believed on in the world; received up into glory._

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

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

1. This _great mystery of godliness_ opens with—GOD MANIFEST IN THE FLESH.

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

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

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

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

_God manifest in the flesh_, is then the _first_ chapter of this mysterious book: and yet, as mysterious as it is, full of the clearest and most momentous instruction.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—_low-rooft beneath the skies_,

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

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

4. That he was PREACHED TO THE GENTILES.

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

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

In the mean time, the mercy of God had much larger views, and sent the Messiah to be _the saviour of_ ALL _men, especially of them_, out of every nation, _that believe_[84].

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Such is the mystery of Christ _believed on in the world_!

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

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

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

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

SERMON XXXIV.

PREACHED MAY 19, 1776.

ISAIAH l. 11.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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