thought of at the time, and that the one which favours our own particular case and character. The comparison of different virtues, as to their price and value, may give occasion to many nice questions; and some rules might be laid down upon the subject; but I contend, that the practice itself is useless, and not only useless, but delusive. Let us leave, as I have already said, our virtues to themselves, not engaging our minds in appreciating either their intrinsic or comparative value; being assured that they will be weighed in unerring scales. Our business is with our sins.

Again, the habit of contemplating our spiritual acquirements, our religious, or moral excellences, has, very usually and, I think, almost unavoidably, an unfavourable effect upon our disposition towards other men. A man who is continually computing his riches, almost in spite of himself grows proud of his wealth. A man, who accustoms himself to read, and inquire, and think a great deal about his family, becomes vain of his extraction. He can hardly help becoming so. A man who has his titles sounding in his ears, or his state much before his eyes, is lifted up by his rank. These are effects which every one observes; and no inconsiderable degree of the same effect springs from the habit of meditating upon our virtues. Now humble-mindedness is a Christian duty, if there be one. It is more than a duty. It is a principle. It is a principle of the religion; and its influence is exceedingly great, not only upon our religious, but our social character. They who are truly humbleminded, have no quarrels, give no offence, contend with no one in wrath and bitterness: still more impossible is it for them to insult any man, under any circumstances. But the way to be humble-minded is the way I am pointing out, viz. to think less of our virtues, and more of our sins. In reading the parable of the Pharisee and the Publican, if we could suppose them to be real characters, I should say of them, that the one had just come from ruminating upon his virtues, the other from meditating upon his sins. And mark the difference; first, in their behaviour: next, in their acceptance with God. The Pharisee is all loftiness, and contemptuousness, and recital, and comparison; full of ideas of merit; views the poor Publican, although withdrawn to a distance from him, with eyes of scorn. The Publican, on the contrary, enters not into competition with the Pharisee, or with any one. from looking round, he durst not so much as lift up his eyes; but casts himself, hardly indeed presumes to cast himself, not upon the justice, but wholly and solely upon the mercies of his Maker: "God be merciful to me a sinner." We know the judgment which our Lord himself pronounced upon the case, "I tell you, this man went down to his house justified rather than the other," Luke, xviii. 14. The more therefore we are like the Publican, and the less we are like the Pharisee, the more we come up to the genuine temper of Christ's religion.

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So far

Think then less of your virtues; more of your sins. Do I hear any one answer, I have no sins to think upon; I have no crimes which lie upon my conscience? I reply, that this may be true with respect to some, nay, with respect to many persons, according to the idea we commonly annex to the words, sins and crimes; meaning thereby, acts of gross and external wickedness. But think farther: enlarge your views. Is your obedience to the law of God what it ought to be, or what it might be? The first commandment of that law is, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, with all thy mind, and with all thy strength." Is there, upon the subject of this commandment, no matter for thought, no room for amendment? The second commandment is, "Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself." Is all with us, as it should be, here? Again, there is a spirituality in the commands of Christ's religion, which will cause the man who obeys them truly, not only to govern his actions, but his words; not only his words, but his inclinations and his dispo sitions, his internal habits, as well as external life. "Ye have heard that it hath been said of old time, Thou shalt not commit adultery: but I say unto you, He that looketh on a woman to lust after her;" that is, he who voluntarily indulges and entertains in his mind an unlawful desire, "hath committed adultery with her already in his heart," is, by the very entertainment of such ideas, instead of striving honestly and resolutely to banish them from his mind, or to take his mind off from them, a sinner in the sight of God. Much the same kind of exposition belongs to the other commandments; not only is murder forbidden, but all unreasonable, intemperate anger and passion; not only stealing, but all hard and

unfair conduct, either in transacting business with those who are upon a level with us, or, where it is more to be feared, towards those who are in our power. And do not these points open to us a field of inquiry, how far we are concerned in them? There may not be what, strictly speaking, can be called an act or deed which is scandalously bad; yet the current of our imaginations, the bent of our tempers, the stream of our affections, may all, or any of them, be wrong, and may be requiring, even at the peril of our salvation, stronger control, a better direction.

Again, There may not be any action, which, singly and separately taken, amounts to what would be reckoned a crime; yet there may be actions, which we give in to, which even our own consciences cannot approve; and these may be so frequent with us, as to form a part of the course and fashion of our lives.

Again, It is possible, that some of the miscarriages in conduct, of which we have to accuse ourselves, may be imputable to inadvertency or surprise. But could these miscarriages happen as often as they do, if we exercised that vigilance in our Christian course, which not only forms a part of the Christian character, but is a sure effect of a sincere faith in religion, and a corresponding solicitude and concern about it? Lastly, Unprofitableness itself is a sin. We need not do mischief in order to commit sin; uselessness, when we might be useful, is enough to make us sinners before God. The fig-tree in the Gospel was cut down, not because it bore sour fruit, but because it bore none. The parable of the talents (Matt. xxv. 14.) is pointed expressly against the simple neglect of faculties and opportunities of doing good, as contradistinguished from the perpetration of positive crimes. Are not all these topics fit matters of meditation, in the review of our lives? Upon the whole, when I hear a person say, he has no sins to think upon, I conclude, that he has not thought seriously concerning religion at all.

Let our sins, then, be ever before us; if not our crimes, of which it is possible that, according to the common acceptation of that word, we may not have many to remember; let our omissions, deficiencies, failures, our irregularities of heart and affection, our vices of temper and disposition, our course and habit of giving in to smaller offences, meaning, as I do mean, by offences, all those things, which our consciences cannot really approve; our slips, and inadvertencies, and surprises, much too frequent for a man in earnest about salvation. Let these things occupy our attention; let this be the bent and direction of our thoughts; for they are the thoughts which will bring us to God evangelically; because they are the thoughts which will not only increase our vigilance, but which must inspire us with that humility, as to ourselves; with that deep, and abiding, and operating sense of God Almighty's love and kindness, and mercy towards us, in and through Jesus Christ, our Saviour, which is ever one great aim and end of the gospel, and of those who preached it, to inculcate upon all who came to take hold of the offer of grace.

SERMON XII.

SALVATION FOR PENITENT SINNERS.

Wherefore I say unto thee, Her sins, which are many, are forgiven; for she loved much.

LUKE, vii. 47.

IT has been thought an extravagant doctrine, that the greatest sinners were sometimes nearer to the kingdom of heaven, than they whose offences were less exorbitant, and less conspicuous: yet I apprehend the doctrine wants only to be rationally explained, to show that it has both a great deal of truth and a great deal of use in it; that it may be an awakening religious proposition to some, whilst it cannot, without being wilfully misconstrued, delude or deceive any.

Of all conditions in the world the most to be despaired of is the condition of those, who are altogether insensible and unconcerned about religion; and yet they may be, in the mean

time, tolerably regular in their outward behaviour; there may be nothing in it to give great offence; their character may be fair; they may pass with the common stream, or they may even be well spoken of; nevertheless, I say, that, whilst this insensibility remains upon their minds, their condition is more to be despaired of than that of any other person, The religion of Christ does not in any way apply to them: they do not belong to it; for are they to be saved by performing God's will? God is not in their thoughts; his will is not before their eyes. They may do good things; but it is not from a principle of obedience to God that they do them. There may be many crimes which they are not guilty of: but it is not out of regard to the will of God that they do not commit them. It does not, therefore, appear, what just hopes they can entertain of heaven, upon the score of an obedience, which they not only do not perform, but do not attempt to perform. Then, secondly, if they are to hope in Christ for a forgiveness of their imperfections, for acceptance through him of broken and deficient services, the truth is, they have recourse to no such hope; beside, it is not imperfection with which they are charged, but a total absence of principle. A man who never strives to obey, never indeed bears that thought about him, must not talk of the imperfection of his obedience: neither the word nor the idea pertains to him: nor can he speak of broken and deficient services, who, in no true sense of the term, hath ever served God at all. I own, therefore, I do not perceive what rational hopes religion can hold out to insensibility and unconcernedness, to those, who neither obey its rules, nor seek its aid; neither follow after its rewards, nor sue, I mean in spirit and sincerity sue, for its pardon. But how, it will be asked, can a man be of regular and reputable morals, with this religious insensibility; in other words, with the want of vital religion in his heart? answer, that it can be. A general regard to character, knowing that it is an advantageous thing to possess a good character; or a regard generated by natural and early habit: a disposition to follow the usages of life, which are practised around us, and which constitute decency: calm passions, easy circumstances, orderly companions, may, in a multitude of instances, keep men within rules and bounds, without the operation of any religious principle whatever.

There is likewise another cause, which has a tendency to shut out religion from the mind, and yet hath at the same time a tendency to make men orderly and decent in their conduct: and that cause is business. A close attention to business is very apt to exclude all other attentions; especially those of a spiritual nature, which appear to men of business shadowy and unsubstantial, and to want that present reality and advantage, which they have been accustomed to look for, and to find in their temporal concerns: and yet it is undoubtedly true, that attention to business frequently and naturally produces regular manners. Here, therefore, is a case, in which decency of behaviour shall subsist along with religious insensibility, forasmuch as one cause produces both; an intent application to business.

Decency, order, regularity, industry, application to our calling, are all good things; but then they are accompanied with this great danger, viz. that they may subsist without any religious influence whatever; and that, when they do so, their tendency is to settle and confirm men in religious insensibility.-For finding things go on very smoothly, finding themselves received and respected without any religious principle, they are kept asleep, as to their spiritual concerns, by the very quietness and prosperity of things around them. "There is a way that seemeth right unto a man, but the end thereof are the ways of death." It is possible to slumber in a fancied security, or rather in an unconsciousness of danger, a blindness to our true situation, a thoughtlessness or stupefaction concerning it, even at the time when we are in the utmost peril of salvation; when we are descending fast towards a state of perdition. It is not the judgment of an erroneous conscience: that is not the case I mean. It is rather a want of conscience, or a conscience which is never exerted; in a word, it is an indifference and insensibility concerning religion, even in the midst of seeming and external decency of behaviour, and soothed and lulled by this very circumstance. Now it is not only within the compass of possibility, but it frequently, nay I hope, it very frequently comes to pass, that open, confessed, acknowledged sins, sting the sinner's conscience: that the upbraidings of mankind, the cry, the clamour, the indignation, which his wickedness has excited, may at length come home to his own soul; may compel him to reflect, may bring him, though

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by force and violence, to a sense of his guilt, and a knowledge of his situation. Now I say that this sense of sin, by whatever cause it be produced, is better than religious insensibility. The sinner's penitence is more to be trusted to, than the seemingly righteous man's security, The one is roused; is roused from the deep forgetfulness of religion, in which he had hitherto lived. Good fruit, even fruit unto life everlasting, may spring from the motion which is stirred in his heart. The other remains, as to religion, in a state of torpor. The thing wanted as the quickening principle, as the seed and germ of religion in the heart, is compunction, convincement of sin, of danger, of the necessity of flying to the Redeemer, and to his religion in good earnest. They were pricked in their heart, and said to Peter and to the rest of the apostles, Men and brethren, what shall we do?" This was the state of mind of those who first heard the gospel and this is the state of mind still to be brought about, before the gospel be heard with effect; and sin will sometimes do it, when outward righteousness will not; I mean by outward righteousness, external decency of manners without any inward principle of religion whatever. The sinner may return and fly to God, even because the world is against him.-The visibly righteous man is in friendship with the world: and the "friendship of the world is enmity with God," whensoever, as I have before expressed it, it soothes and lulls men in religious insensibility. But how, it will be said, is this? Is it not to encourage sin? Is it not to put the sinner in a more hopeful condition than the righteous? Is it not, in some measure, giving the greatest sinner the greatest chance of being saved? This may be objected; and the objection brings me to support the assertion in the beginning of my discourse, that the doctrine proposed cannot, without being wilfully misconstrued, deceive or delude auy. First, you ask, is not this to encourage sin? I answer, it is to encourage the sinner who repents; and if the sinner repent, why should he not be encouraged? But some, you say, will take occasion, from this encouragement, to plunge into sin. I answer, that then they wilfully misapply it for if they enter upon sin intending to repent afterward, I take upon me to tell them, that no true repentance can come of such intention. The very intention is a fraud: instead of being the parent of true repentance, is itself to be repented of bitterly. Whether such a man ever repent or not is another question, but no sincere repentance can issue or proceed from this intention. It must come altogether from another quarter. It will look back, when it does come, upon that previous intention with hatred and horror, as upon a plan, and scheme, and design to impose upon and abuse the mercy of God. The moment a plan is formed of sinning, with an intention afterward to repent, at that moment the whole doctrine of grace, of repentance, and of course this part of it amongst the rest, is wilfully misconstrued. The grace of God is turned into lasciviousness. At the time this design is formed, the person forming it is in the bond of iniquity, as St. Peter told Simon he was; in a state of imminent perdition, and this design will not help him out of it. We say, that repentance is sometimes more likely to be brought about in a confessed, nay, in a notorious and convicted sinner, than in a seemingly regular life: but it is of true repentance that we speak, and no true repentance can proceed from a previous intention to repent, I mean an intention previous to the sin. Therefore no advantage can be taken of this doctrine to the encouragement of sin, without wilfully misconstruing it.

But then you say, we place the sinner in a more hopeful condition than the righteous. But who, let us inquire, are the righteous we speak of? not they who are endeavouring, however imperfectly, to perform the will of God; not they who are actuated by a principle of obedience to him; but men who are orderly and regular in their visible behaviour without any internal religion. To the eye of man they appear righteous. But if they do good, it is not from the love or fear of God, or out of regard to religion, that they do it, but from other considerations. If they abstain from sin, they abstain from it out of different motives from what religion offers: and so long as they have the acquiescence and approbation of the world, they are kept in a state of sleep; in a state, as to religion, of total negligence and unconcern: Of these righteous men there are many: and, when we compare their condition with that of the open sinner, it is to rouse them, if possible, to a sense of religion. A wounded conscience is better than a conscience which is torpid. When conscience begins to do its office, they will feel things changed within them mightily. It will no longer be their concern to keep fair with the world, to preserve appearances, to maintain a character, to uphold decency, order,

and regularity, in their behaviour; but it will be their concern to obey God, to think of him, to love him, to fear him: nay, to love him with all their heart, with all their mind, with all their soul, with all their strength; that is, to direct their cares and endeavours to one single point, his will yet their visible conduct may not be much altered; but their internal motives and principle will be altered altogether.

This alteration must take place in the heart, even of the seemingly righteous. It may take place also in the heart of the sinner; and we say (and this is, in truth, the whole which we say), that a conscience pricked by sin is sometimes, nay oftentimes, more susceptible of the impressions of religion, of true and deep impressions, than a mind which has been accustomed to look only to the laws and customs of the world, to conform itself to those laws, and to find rest and satisfaction in that peace, which not God, but the world gives.

SERMON XIII.

SINS OF THE FATHERS UPON THE CHILDREN.

Thou shalt not bow down thyself to them, nor serve them; for I the Lord thy God am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth generation of them that hate me.-Exodus, xx. 5.

THESE words form part of the second commandment. It need not be denied, that there is an apparent harshness in this declaration, with which the minds even of good and pious men have been sometimes sensibly affected. To visit the sins of the fathers upon the children, even to the third and fourth generation, is not, at first sight at least, so reconcilable to our apprehensions of justice and equity, as that we should expect to find it in a solemn publication of the will of God.

I think, however, that a fair and candid interpretation of the words before us will remove a great deal of the difficulty, and of the objection which lies against them. My exposition of the passage is contained in these four articles:-First, that the denunciation and sentence relate to the sin of idolatry in particular, if not to that alone. Secondly, that it relates to temporal, or, more properly speaking, to family prosperity and adversity. Thirdly, that it relates to the Jewish economy, in that particular administration of a visible providence, under which they lived. Fourthly, that at no rate does it affect, or was ever meant to affect, the acceptance or salvation of individuals in a future life.

First, I say, that the denunciation and sentence relate to the sin of idolatry in particular, if not to that alone. The prohibition of the commandment is pointed against that particular offence, and no other. The first and second commandment may be considered as one, inasmuch as they relate to one subject, or nearly so: for many ages, and by many churches, they were put together, and considered as one commandment. The subject to which they both relate, is false worship, or the worship of false gods. This is the single subject to which the prohibition of both commandments relates: the single class of sins which is guarded against. Although, therefore, the expression be, "the sins of the fathers," without specifying in that clause what sins, yet in fair construction, and indeed in common construction, we may well suppose it to be that kind and class of sins, for the restraint of which the command was given, and against which its force was directed. The punishment threatened by any law, must naturally be applied to the offence particularly forbidden by that law, and not to offences in general.

One reason why you may not probably perceive the full weight of what I am saying is, that we do not at this day understand or think much concerning the sin of idolatry, or the necessity or importance of God's delivering a specific, a solemn, a terrifying sentence against The sin itself hath in a manner ceased from among us: other sins, God knows, have come in its place; but this, in a great measure, is withdrawn from our observation: whereas

it.