[Page 3]FROM the two grand principles of "loving our neighbour as our­selves; and of doing to others, as we would have them do to us," which re­gulate our social intercourse in general, we proceed to those more confined du­ties, which arise from particular relati­ons, connections, and stations in life.

Among these, we are first taught, as indeed the order of nature directs, to consider the great duty of children to parents.

The two points to be insisted on, are respect and obedience. Both these should naturally spring from love; to which parents have the highest claim. And indeed parents, in general, behave to their children, in a manner both to deserve and to obtain their love.

[Page 4]But if the kindness of the parent be not such as to work upon the affections of the child, yet still the parent has a title to respect and obedience, on the principle of duty; a principle, which the voice of nature dictates; which reason inculcates; which human laws, and human customs all join to inforce; and which the word of God strictly commands.

The child will shew respect to his pa­rent, by treating him, at all times with deference. He will consult his parent's inclination; and shew a readiness in a thousand nameless trifles, to conform himself to it. He will never peevishly contradict his parent; and when he of­fers a contrary opinion, he will offer it modestly. Respect will teach him also, not only to put the best colouring upon the infirmities of his parent; but even [Page 5] if those infirmities be great, it will sof­ten and screen them, as much as possi­ble, from the public eye.

Obedience goes a step further, and supposes a positive command. In things unlawful indeed, the parental authority cannot bind: but this is a case that rarely happens. The great danger is on the other side, that children, through obstinacy, or sulleness, should refuse their parents lawful commands; to the observance of all which, however in­convenient to themselves, they are tied by various motives; and above all, by the command of God; who in his sacred denunciations against sin, ranks disobe­dience to parents among the worst.^*

They are farther bound, not only to obey the commands of their parents; [Page 6] but to obey them chearfully. He does but half his duty, who does it not from his heart.

There remains still a third part of filial duty, which peculiarly belongs to children, when grown up. This the catechism calls succouring, or adminis­tring to the necessities of the parent; either in the way of managing his affairs, when he is less able to manage them himself; or in supplying his wants, should he need assistance in that way. And this the child should do, on the united principles of love, duty, and gra­titude. The hypocritical jew would sometimes evade this duty, by dedicat­ing to sacred uses, what should have been expended in assisting his parent. Our Saviour sharply rebukes this per­version of duty; and gives him to un­derstand, that no pretence of serving [Page 7] God, can cover the neglect of assisting a parent. And if no pretence of serving God can do it, surely every other pre­tence must still be more unnatural.

Under this head also we may consider that attention, and love, which are due to other relations, especially that mutual affection, which should subsist between brothers. The name of brother expres­ses the highest degree of tenderness; and is generally used in scripture, as a term of peculiar endearment, to call men to the practice of social virtue. It reminds them of every kindness, which man can shew to man. If then, we ought to treat all mankind with the affection of brothers, in what light must they ap­pear, who being really such, are ever at variance with each other; continually doing spiteful actions, and shewing upon every occasion, not only a want of bro­therly [Page 8] kindness; but even of common regard?

The next part of our duty, is "to honour and obey the king, and all that are put in authority under him."

By the "king, and all that are put in authority under him," is meant the various parts of the government we live under, of which the king is the head: and the meaning of the precept is, that we ought to live in dutiful submission to legal authority.

Government and society are united. We cannot have one without the other; and we submit to the inconveniences, for the sake of the advantages.

The end of society is mutual safety and convenience. Without it, even [Page 9] safety could in no degree be obtained: the good would become a prey to the bad: nay the very human species to the beasts of the field.

Still less could we obtain the conve­niences of life; which cannot be had without the labour of many. If every man depended upon himself for what he enjoyed, how destitute would be the situation of human affairs!

But even safety and convenience are not the only fruits of society. Man, living merely by himself, would be an ignorant, unpolished savage. It is the intercourse of society, which cultivates the human mind. One man's know­ledge, and experience is built upon ano­ther's; and so the great edifice of science, and polished life, is reared.

[Page 10]To enjoy these advantages, therefore, men joined in society; and hence it be­came necessary, that government should be established. Magistrates were crea­ted; laws made; taxes submitted to; and every one, instead of righting him­self (except in mere self-defence) is in­joined to appeal to the laws he lives un­der, as the best security of his life and property.

[Page 13]WE are next injoined "to submit ourselves to all our governors, teachers, spiritual pastors, and masters." Here another species of government is pointed out. The laws of society are meant to govern our riper years: the instructions of our teachers, spiritual pastors, and masters are meant to guide our youth,

By our "teachers, spiritual pastors, and masters," are meant all those, who have the care of our education, and of our instruction in religion; whom we are to obey, and listen to with humility, and attention, as the means of our advancement in know­ledge, and religion. The instructions we receive from them, are unquestiona­bly subject to our own judgment in fu­ture life; for by his own judgment [Page 14] every man must stand, or fall. But, during our youth, it is highly proper for us to pay a dutiful submission to their instructions, as we cannot yet be supposed to have formed any judgment of our own. At that early age, it should be our endeavour to acquire knowledge; and afterwards unpreju­diced to form our opinions.

The duty which young people owe to their instructors, cannot be shewn bet­ter, than in the effect, which the in­structions they receive, have upon them. They would do well, therefore, to con­sider the advantages of an early atten­tion to these two things, both of great importance, knowledge and religion.

The great use of knowledge in all its various branches (to which the learned languages are generally considered as an [Page 15] introduction) is to free the mind from the prejudices of ignorance; and to give it juster, and more enlarged concepti­ons, than are the mere growth of rude nature. By reading, you add the ex­perience of others to your own. It is the improvement of the mind chiefly, that makes the difference between man and man; and gives one man, a real superiority over another.

Besides, the mind must be employed. The lower orders of men have their at­tention much ingrossed by those em­ployments, in which the necessities of life engage them: and it is happy that they have. Labour stands in the room of education; and fills up those vacan­cies of mind, which in a state of idle­ness would be ingrossed by vice. And if they, who have more leisure, do not substitute something in the room of this, [Page 16] their minds also will become the prey of vice; and the more so, as they have the means to indulge it more in their power. A vacant mind is exactly that house mentioned in the gospel, which the de­vil found empty. In he entered; and taking with him seven other spirits more wicked than himself, they took pos­session. It is an undoubted truth, that one vice indulged, introduces others; and that each succeeding vice becomes more depraved.—If then the mind must be employed, what can fill up its vacuities more rationally than the acquisition of knowledge? Let us there­fore thank God for the opportunities he hath afforded us; and not turn into a curse those means of leisure, which might become so great a blessing.

But however necessary to us know­ledge may be, religion, we know, is [Page 17] infinitely more so. The one adorns a man, and gives him, it is true, superi­ority, and rank in life: but the other is absolutely essential to his happiness.

In the midst of youth, health, and abundance, the world is apt to appear a very gay, and pleasing scene; it en­gages our desires; and in a degree sa­tisfies them also. But it is wisdom to consider, that a time will come, when youth, health, and fortune will all fail us; and if disappointment, and vexa­tion do not sour our taste for pleasure, at least sickness and infirmities will de­stroy it. In these gloomy seasons, and above all, at the approach of death, what will become of us without religi­on? When this world fails, where shall we fly, if we expect no refuge in another? Without holy hope in God, and resignation to his will, and trust in [Page 18] him for deliverance, what is there that can secure us against the evils of life?

The great utility therefore of know­ledge and religion being thus apparent, it is highly incumbent upon us to pay a studious attention to them in our youth. If we do not, it is more than probable, that we shall never do it; that we shall grow old in ignorance, by neglecting the one; and old in vice, by neglecting the other.

For improvement in knowledge, youth is certainly the fittest season. The mind is then ready to receive any im­pression. It is free from all that care, and attention, which, in riper age, the affairs of life bring with them. The memory too is then stronger; and bet­ter able to acquire the rudiments of knowledge; and as the mind is then [Page 19] void of ideas, it is more suited to those parts of learning, which are conversant in words. Besides, there is sometimes in youth a modesty, and ductility, which in advanced years, if those years especially have been left a prey to igno­rance, become self-sufficiency, and pre­judice; and these effectually bar up all the inlets to knowledge.—But, above all, unless habits of attention, and ap­plication are early gained, we shall scarce acquire them afterwards.—The inconsiderate youth seldom reflects up­on this; nor knows his loss, till he knows also, that it cannot be retrieved.

Nor is youth more the season to ac­quire knowledge, than to form religious habits. It is a great point to get habit on the side of virtue. It will make every thing smooth, and easy. The earliest principles are generally the most [Page 20] lasting; and those of a religious cast are seldom wholly lost. Though the temptations of the world may, now and then, draw the well-principled youth aside; yet his principles being continu­ally at war with his practice, there is hope, that in the end the better part may overcome the worse, and bring on a reformation. Whereas he, who has suffered habits of vice to get possession of his youth, has little chance of being brought back to a sense of religion. In a common course of things it can rarely happen. Some calamity must rouse him. He must be awakened by a storm, or sleep for ever.—How much better is it then to make that easy to us, which we know is best? And to form those habits now, which hereafter we shall wish we had formed?

[Page 21]There are, who would restrain youth from imbibing any religious principles, till they can judge for themselves; lest they should imbibe prejudice for truth. But why should not the same caution be used in science also; and the minds of youth left void of all impressions? The experiment, I fear, in both cases would be dangerous. If the mind were left uncultivated during so long a period, though nothing else should find entrance, vice certainly would: and it would make the larger shoots, as the soil would be vacant. A boy had better receive knowledge and religion mixed with error, than none at all. For when the mind is set a think­ing, it may deposit its prejudices by de­grees, and get right at last: but in a state of stagnation it will infallibly be­come foul.

[Page 22]To conclude, our youth bears the same proportion to our more advanced life, as this world does to the next. In this life we must form, and cultivate those habits of virtue, which must quali­fy us for a better state. If we neglect them here, and contract habits of an op­posite kind, instead of gaining that ex­alted state, which is promised to our improvement, we shall of course sink into that state, which is adapted to the habits we have formed.

Exactly thus is youth introductory to manhood; to which it is properly speaking a state of preparation. During this season we must qualify ourselves for the parts we are to act hereafter. In manhood we bear the fruit, which has in youth been planted. If we have sauntered away our youth, we must ex­pect to be ignorant men. If indolence [Page 23] and inattention have taken an early pos­session of us, they will probably in­crease, as we advance in life; and make us a burden to ourselves, and useless to society. If again, we suffer ourselves to be misled by vicious inclinations, they will daily get new strength, and end in dissolute lives. But if we culti­vate our minds in our youth, attain habits of attention and industry, of vir­tue, and sobriety, we shall find our­selves well prepared to act our future parts in life; and, what above all things ought to be our care, by gaining this command over ourselves, we shall be more able, as we get forward in the world, to resist every new temptation, as it arises.

[Page 27]WE are next injoined "to order ourselves lowly and reverently, to all our betters."

By our betters are meant they who are in a superior station of life to our own; and by "ordering ourselves low­ly and reverently towards them," is meant paying them that respect, which is due to their station.

The word betters indeed includes two kinds of persons, to whom our respect is due—those, who have a natural claim to it; and those who have an acquired one; that is, a claim arising from some particular situation in life.

Among the first, are all our superior relations; not only parents; but all other relations, who are in a line above [Page 28] us. All these have a natural claim to our respect.—There is a respect also due from youth to age; which is always becoming; and tends to keep youth within the bounds of modesty.

To others, respect is due from those particular stations, which arise from so­ciety and government. Fear God, says the text; and it adds, "honour the king."

It is due also from many other situati­ons in life. Employments, honours, and even wealth will exact it; and all may justly exact it, in a proper degree.

But it may here perhaps be inquired, why God should permit this latter dis­tinction among men? That some should have more authority than others, we can easily see, is absolutely necessary in [Page 29] government; but among men, who are all born equal, why should the goods of life be distributed in so unequal a pro­portion?

To this inquiry, it may be answered, that, in the first place, we see nothing in this, but what is common in all the works of God. A gradation is every where observable. Beauty, strength; swiftness, and other qualities, are varied through the creation in numberless de­grees. In the same manner likewise are varied the gifts of fortune, as they are called. Why therefore should one man's being richer than another, sur­prize us more than his being stronger than another, or more prudent?

Though we can but very inadequately trace the wisdom of God in his works, yet very wise reasons appear for this [Page 30] variety in the gifts of fortune. It seems necessary both in a civil, and in a moral light.

In a civil light, it is the necessa­ry accompaniment of various employ­ments; on which depend all the advan­tages of society. Like the stones of a regular building, some must range higher, and some lower; some must support, and others be supported; some will form the strength of the building, and others its ornament; but all unite in producing one regular, and propor­tioned whole. If then different employ­ments are necessary, of course different degrees of wealth, honour, and conse­quence must follow; a variety of dis­tinctions, and obligations; in short, different ranks, and a subordination must take place.

[Page 31]Again in a moral light, the dispro­portion of wealth, and other worldly adjuncts gives a range to the more ex­tensive exercise of virtue. Some virtues could but faintly exist upon the plan of an equality. If some did not abound, there were little room for temperance: if some did not suffer need, there were as little for patience. Other virtues again could hardly exist at all. Who could practise generosity, where there was no object of it? Who, humility, where all ambitious desires were ex­cluded?

Since then providence, in scattering these various gifts, proposes ultimately the good of man, it is our duty to ac­quiesce in this order, and "to behave ourselves lowly, and reverently" (not with servility, but with a decent re­spect) "to all our superiors."

[Page 32]Before I conclude this subject, it may be proper to observe, in vindication of the ways of providence, that we are not to suppose happiness and misery necessarily connected with riches and poverty. Each condition hath its particular sources both of pleasure and pain, unknown to the other. Those in elevated stations have a thousand latent pangs, of which their inferiors have no idea: while their inferiors again have as many pleasures, which the others cannot taste. I speak only of such modes of happiness or mi­sery as arise immediately from different stations. Of misery, indeed, from a variety of other causes, all men of every station are equal heirs; either when God lays his hand upon us in sickness, or misfortune; or when, by our own follies and vices, we become the mini­sters of our own distress.

[Page 33]Who then would build his happiness upon an elevated station? Or who would envy the possession of such happi­ness in another? We know not with what various distresses that station, which is the object of our envy, may be at­tended.—Besides, as we are accountable for all we possess, it may be happy for us, that we possess so little. The means of happiness, as far as station can procure them, are commonly in our own power, if we are not wanting to ourselves.

Let each of us then do his duty in that station which providence has as­signed him; ever remembering, that the next world will soon destroy all earthly distinctions.—One distinction only will remain among the sons of men at that time—the distinction between good and bad; and this distinction it is worth all our pains and all our ambition to acquire.

[Page 37]WE are next instructed "to hurt nobody by word, or deed—to be true and just in all our dealings—to bear no malice nor hatred in our hearts —to keep our hands from picking and stealing—our tongues from evil-speak­ing, lying, and slandering."

The duties comprehended in these words are a little transposed. What should class under one head is brought under another. "To hurt nobody by word, or deed," is the general proposi­tion. The under parts should follow: First, "to keep the tongue from evil-speaking, lying, and slandering;" which is, "to hurt nobody by word." Se­condly, "to be true and just in all our dealings;" and "to keep our hands from picking and stealing;" which is, "to hurt nobody by deed." As to the [Page 38] injunction, "to bear no malice nor hatred in our hearts," it belongs pro­perly to neither of these heads; but is a distinct one by itself. The duties being thus separated, I shall proceed to explain them.

And, first, of injuring our neighbour by our "words." This may be done, we find, in three ways; by "evil-speak­ing, by lying, and by slandering."

By "evil-speaking" is meant speak­ing ill of our neighbour; but upon a supposition, that this ill is the truth. In some circumstances it is certainly right to speak ill of our neighbour; as when we are called upon in a court of justice to give our evidence; or, when we can set any one right in his opinion of a person, in whom he is about to put an improper confidence. Nor can there [Page 39] be any harm in speaking of a bad action, which has been determined in a court of justice, or is otherwise become notorious.

But, on the other hand, it is highly disallowable to speak wantonly of the characters of others from common fame; because, in a thousand instances, we find that stories, which have no better foun­dation, are misrepresented. They are perhaps only half-told—they have been heard through the medium of malice, or envy—some favourable circumstance hath been omitted—some foreign cir­cumstance hath been added—some trif­ling circumstance hath been exaggerated —the motive, the provocation, or per­haps the reparation, hath been conceal­ed—in short, the representation of the fact is, some way or other, totally dif­ferent from the fact itself.

[Page 40]But even, when we have the best evidence of a bad action, with all its circumstances before us, we surely indulge a very ill-natured pleasure in spreading the shame of an offending brother. We can do no good; and we may do harm: we may weaken his good resolutions by exposing him: we may harden him against the world. Perhaps it may be his first bad action. Perhaps nobody is privy to it but our­selves, Let us give him at least one trial. Let us not cast the first stone. Which of our lives could stand so strict a scrutiny? He only who is without sin himself can have any excuse for treat­ing his brother with severity.

Let us next consider "lying;" which is an intention to deceive by falsehood in our words.—To warn us against ly­ing, we should do well to consider the [Page 41] folly, the meanness, and the wickedness of it.

The folly of lying consists in its defeating its own purpose. A habit of lying is generally in the end detect­ed; and, after a detection, the liar, in­stead of deceiving, will not even be be­lieved, when he happens to speak the truth. Nay, every single lie is attended with such a variety of circumstances, which lead to a detection, that it is of­ten discovered. The use generally made of a lie is to cover a fault; but as the end is seldom answered, we only aggra­vate what we wish to conceal. In point even of prudence, an honest confession would serve us better.

The meanness of lying arises from the cowardice which it implies. We dare not boldly and nobly speak the [Page 42] truth; but have recourse to low sub­terfuges, which always argue a sordid, and disingenuous mind. Hence it is, that in the fashionable world, the word liar is always considered as a term of pe­culiar reproach.

The wickedness of lying consists in its perverting one of the greatest bles­sings of God, the use of speech, in making that a mischief to mankind, which was intended for a benefit. Truth is the great bond of society. Falshood, of course, tends to its dissolution. If one man may lye, why not another? And if there is no mutual trust among men, there is an end of all intercourse and dealing.

An equivocation is nearly related to a lye. It is an intention to deceive un­der words of a double meaning; or [Page 43] words, which, literally speaking, are true, and is equally criminal with the most downright breach of truth. When St. Peter asked Sapphira (in the 5th chap­ter of the Acts) "whether her husband had sold the land for so much?" She answered, he had: and literally she spoke the truth: for he had sold it for that sum, included in a larger. But having an intention to deceive, we we find the apostle considered the equi­vocation as a lye.

In short, it is the intention to deceive, which is criminal: the mode of decep­tion, like the vehicle in which poison is conveyed, is of no consequence. A nod, or sign, may convey a lye as effectually, as the most deceitful language.

Under the head of lying may be men­tioned a breach of promise. While a re­solution [Page 44] remains in our own breasts, it is subject to our own review: but when we make another person a party with us, an engagement is made; and every en­gagement, though only of the lightest kind, should be punctually observed. If we have added to this engagement a solemn promise, the obligation is so much the stronger; and he who does not think himself bound by such an obligation, has no pretensions to the character of an honest man. A breach of promise is still worse than a lye. A lye is, simply a breach of truth: but a breach of promise, is a breach both of truth and trust.

Forgetfulness is a weak excuse. It only shews how little we are affected by so solemn an engagement. Should we forget to call for a sum of money, of which we were in want, at an appointed [Page 45] time? Or do we think a solemn pro­mise of less value, than a sum of mo­ney?

Having considered evil-speaking and lying, let us next consider slandering. By slandering we mean, injuring our neighbour's character by falshood. Here we still rise higher in the scale of inju­rious words. Slandering our neighbour is the greatest injury, which words can do him; and is, therefore, worse than either evil-speaking, or lying. The mis­chief of this sin depends on the value of our characters. All men, unless they be past feeling, desire naturally to be thought well of by their fellow-crea­tures; a good character is one of the principal means of being serviceable ei­ther to ourselves, or others; and among numbers, the very bread they eat, de­pends upon it. What aggravated inju­ry, [Page 46] therefore, do we bring upon every man, whose name we slander? And, what is still worse, the injury is irrepa­rable. If you defraud a man; restore what you took, and the injury is re­paired. But, if you slander him, it is not in your power to shut up all the ears, and all the mouths, to which your tale may have access. The evil spreads, like the winged seeds of some noxious plants, which scatter mischief on a breath of air, and disperse it on every side, and beyond prevention.

Before we conclude this subject, it may just be mentioned, that a slander may be spread, as a lye may be told, in various ways. We may do it by an in­sinuation, as well as in a direct manner; we may spread it in a secret; or propa­gate it under the colour of friendship.

[Page 47]I may add also, that it is a species of slander, and often a very malignant one, to lessen the merits, or exaggerate the failings of others; as it is likewise to omit defending a misrepresented character; or to let others bear the blame of our offences.

[Page 51]HAVING thus considered injurious words, let us next consider inju­rious actions. On this head we are in­joined "to keep our hands from picking and stealing, and to be true and just in all our dealings."

As to theft, it is a crime of so odious, and vile a nature, that one would ima­gine no person, who hath had the least tincture of a virtuous education, even though driven to necessity, could be led into it.—I shall not, therefore, enter into a dissuasive from this crime; but go on with the explanation of the other part of the injunction, and see what it is to be true and just in all our deal­ings.

Justice is even still more, if possible, the support of society, than truth: in­asmuch [Page 52] as a man may be more injurious by his actions, than by his words. It is for this reason, that the whole force of human law is bent to restrain injustice; and the happiness of every society will increase, in proportion to this restraint.

We very much err, however, if we suppose, that every thing within the bounds of law is justice. The law was intended only for bad men; and it is impossible to make the meshes of it so strait, but that many very great enormi­ties will escape. The well meaning man, therefore, knowing, that the law was not made for him, consults a better guide—his own conscience, informed by religion. And, indeed, the great difference between the good and the bad man consists in this: the good man will do nothing, but what his conscience [Page 53] will allow: the bad man will do any thing, which the law cannot reach.

It would, indeed, be endless to de­scribe the various ways, in which a man may be dishonest within the limits of law. They are as various, as our in­tercourse with mankind. Some of the most obvious of them I shall cursorily mention.

In matters of commerce the knave has many opportunities. The different qualities of the same commodity—the different modes of adulteration—the spe­cious arts of vending—the frequent ig­norance in purchasing; and a variety of other circumstances, open an endless field to the ingenuity of fraud. The honest fair-dealer, in the mean time, has only one rule, which is, that all arts, however common in business, which [Page 54] are intended to deceive, are utterly un­lawful. It may be added, upon this head, that if any one, conscious of hav­ing been a transgressor, is desirous of re­pairing his fault, restitution is by all means necessary: till that be done, he continues in a course of injustice.

Again, in matters of contract, a man has many opportunities of being disho­nest within the bounds of law. He may be strict in observing the letter of an agreement, when the equitable meaning requires a laxer interpretation: or, he can take the laxer interpretation, when it serves his purpose; and at the loop­hole of some ambiguous expression, ex­clude the literal meaning, though it be undoubtedly the true one.

The same iniquity appears in with­holding from another his just right; [Page 55] or in putting him to expence, in re­covering it. The movements of the law are slow; and in many cases cannot be otherwise: but he who takes the ad­vantage of this to injure his neighbour, proves himself an undoubted knave.

It is a species of the same kind of in­justice to withhold a debt, when we have ability to pay; or to run into debt, when we have not that ability. The former can proceed only from a bad disposition: the latter, from suffering our desires to exceed our station. Some are excused, on this head, as men of generous principles, which they cannot confine. But what is their generosity? They assist one man by injuring another. And what good arises to society from hence? Such persons cannot act on principle; and we need not hesitate to rank them with those, who run into [Page 56] debt to gratify their own selfish inclina­tions. One man desires the elegancies of life; another desires what he thinks an equal good, the reputation of gene­rosity.

Oppression is another species of in­justice; by which, in a thousand ways, under the cover of law, we may take the advantage of the superiority of our power, either to crush an inferior, or humble him to our designs.

Ingratitude is another. A loan, we know, claims a legal return. And is the obligation less, if, instead of a loan, you receive a kindness? The law, in­deed, says nothing on this point of im­morality; but an honest conscience will be very loud in the condemnation of it.

[Page 57]We may be unjust also in our resent­ment; by carrying it beyond what rea­son and religion prescribe.

But it would be endless to describe the various ways, in which injustice dis­covers itself. In truth, almost every omission of duty may be resolved into injustice.

The next precept is, "to bear no malice, nor hatred in our hearts."

The malice and hatred of our hearts arise, in the first place, from injurious treatment; and surely no man, when he is injured, can at first help feeling that he is so. But Christianity requires, that we should subdue these feelings, as soon as possible; "and not suffer the sun to go down upon our wrath."Va­rious are the passages of scripture, which [Page 58] inculcate the forgiveness of injuries. In­deed, no point is more laboured than this; and with reason, because no tem­per is more productive of evil, both to ourselves and others, than a malicious one. The sensations of a mind burning with revenge, are beyond description: and as we are at these seasons very un­able to judge coolly; and of course, liable to carry our resentment too far, the consequence is, that, in our rage, we may do a thousand things, which can never be atoned for; and of which we may repent as long as we live.

Besides, one act draws on another; and retaliation keeps the quarrel alive. The gospel, therefore, ever gracious, and kind to man, in all its precepts, injoins us to check all these violent emo­tions; and to leave our cause in the hands of God. "Vengeance is mine, [Page 59] I will repay, saith the Lord:" and he, who, in opposition to this precept, takes vengeance into his own hands, and che­rishes the malice and hatred of his heart, may assure himself, that he has not yet learned to be a Christian. These precepts, perhaps, may not entirely agree with modern principles of honour: but let the man of honour see to that. The maxims of the world cannot change the truth of the gospel.

Nay, even in recovering our just right, or in pursuing a criminal to jus­tice, we should take care, that it be not done in the spirit of retaliation and re­venge. If these be our motives, though we make the law our instrument, we are equally guilty.

But besides injurious treatment, the malice and hatred of our hearts [Page 60] have often another source, and that is envy: and thus in the litany, "envy, malice, and hatred," are all joined to­gether with great propriety. The emo­tions of envy are generally cooler, and less violent, than those which arise from the resentment of injury; so that envy is seldom so mischievous in its effects as revenge: but with regard to ourselves, it is altogether as bad, and full as de­structive of the spirit of christianity. What is the religion of that man, who instead of thanking heaven for the bles­sings he receives, is fretting himself continually with a disagreeable compa­rison between himself and some other? He cannot enjoy what he has, because another has more wealth, a fairer fame, or perhaps more merit, than himself. He is miserable, because others are happy.

[Page 61]But to omit the wickedness of envy, how absurd and foolish is it, in a world where we must necessarily expect much real misery, to be perniciously inventive in producing it?

Besides, what ignorance! We see only the glaring outside of things. Un­der all that envied glare, many unseen distresses may lurk, from which our station may be free: for our merciful creator seems to have bestowed happi­ness, as far as station is concerned, with great equality among all his creatures.

In conclusion, therefore, let it be the great object of our attention, and the subject of our prayers, to rid our minds of all this cursed intrusion of evil thoughts—whether they proceed from malice, or from an envious temper. Let all our malicious thoughts soften [Page 62] into charity and benevolence; and let us "forgive one another, as God, for Christ's sake, has forgiven us." As for our envious thoughts, as far as they re­late to externals, let them subside in humility, acquiescence, and submission to the will of God. And when we are tempted to envy the good qualities of others, let us spurn so base a concep­tion, and change it into a generous e­mulation—into an endeavour to raise ourselves to an equality with our rival, not to depress him to a level with us.

[Page 65]THUS far the duties we have con­sidered, come most properly un­der the head of those which we owe to our neighbour; what follows, relates rather to ourselves. On this head, we are instructed "to keep our bodies in temperance, soberness, and chastity."

Though our souls should be our great concern, yet, as they are nearly con­nected with our bodies, and as the im­purity of the one contaminates the other, a great degree of moral attention is, of course, due to our bodies also.

As our first station is in this world, to which our bodies particularly belong, they are formed with such appetites, as are requisite to our commodious liv­ing in it; and the rule given us is, "to use the world so as not to abuse it." St. [Page 66] Paul, by a beautiful allusion, calls our bodies the "temples of the Holy Ghost:" by which he means to impress us with a strong idea of their dignity; and to deter us from debasing by low pleasures, what should be the seat of so much purity. To youth these cautions are above measure necessary, because their passions and appetites are strong; their reason and judgement weak. They are prone to pleasure, and void of re­flection. How, therefore, these young adventurers in life may best steer their course, and use this sinful world so as not to abuse it, is a consideration well worth their attention. Let us then see under what regulations their appetites should be restrained.

By keeping our bodies in temperance is meant avoiding excess in eating, with regard both to the quantity and quality [Page 67] of our food. We should neither eat more than our stomachs can well bear; nor be nice and delicate in our eating.

To preserve the body in health is the end of eating; and they who regulate themselves merely by this end, who eat without choice or distinction, paying no regard to the pleasure of eating, observe perhaps the best rule of temperance. They go rather indeed beyond tempe­rance, and may be called abstemious. A man may be temperate, and yet al­low himself a little more indulgence. Great care, however, is here necessary; and the more, as perhaps no precise rule can be affixed, after we have passed the first great limit, and let the palate loose among variety.^* Our own discre­tion [Page 68] must be our guide, which should be constantly kept awake by consider­ing the many bad consequences, which attend a breach of temperance.—Young men, in the full vigour of health, do not consider these things; but as age comes on, and different maladies begin to appear, they may perhaps re­pent, they did not, a little earlier, practise the rules of temperance.

In a moral and religious light, the consequences of intemperance are still worse. To enjoy a comfortable meal, when it comes before us, is allowable: but he who suffers his mind to dwell upon the pleasures of eating, and makes [Page 69] them the employment of his thoughts, has at least opened one source of mental corruption.^*

After all, he who would most per­fectly enjoy the pleasures of the table, such as they are, must look for them within the rules of temperance. The palate accustomed to satiety hath lost its tone; and the greatest sensualists have been brought to confess, that the coarsest fare, with an appetite kept in order by temperance, affords a more delicious repast, than the most luxurious meal without it.

As temperance relates chiefly to eat­ing, soberness or sobriety relates pro­perly [Page 70] to drinking. And here the same observations recur. The strictest, and perhaps the best rule, is merely to sa­tisfy the end of drinking. But if a little more indulgence be taken, it ought to be taken with the greatest cir­cumspection.

With regard to youth indeed, I should be inclined to great strictness on this head. In eating, if they eat of pro­per and simple food, they cannot easily err. Their growing limbs, and strong exercise, require larger supplies than full-grown bodies, which must be kept in order by a more rigid temperance. But if more indulgence be allowed them in eating, less, surely, should in drink­ing. With strong liquors of every kind they have nothing to do; and if they should totally abstain on this head, it were so much the better. The languor [Page 71] which attends age,^* requires perhaps, now and then, some aids; but the spi­rits of youth want no recruits: a little rest is sufficient.

As to the bad consequences derived from excessive drinking, besides filling the blood with bloated and vicious hu­mours, and debauching the purity of the mind, as in the case of intemperate eating, it is attended with this peculiar evil, the loss of our senses. Hence fol­low frequent inconveniences and morti­fications. We expose our follies—we betray our secrets—we are often impo­sed upon—we quarrel with our friends —we lay ourselves open to our enemies; and, in short, make ourselves the ob­jects [Page 72] of contempt, and the topics of ri­dicule to all our acquaintance.—Nor is it only the act of intoxication which de­prives us of our reason during the pre­valence of it; the habit of drunkenness soon besots and impairs the understand­ing, and renders us at all times less fit for the offices of life.

We are next injoined "to keep our bodies in chastity." "Flee youthful lusts," says the apostle, "which war a­gainst the soul." And there is surely nothing which carries on a war against the soul more successfully. Wherever we have a catalogue in scripture (and we have many such catalogues) of those sins, which in a peculiar manner de­bauch the mind, these youthful lusts have always, under some denomination, a place among them.—To keep our­selves free from all contagion of this [Page 73] kind, let us endeavour to preserve a purity in our thoughts—our words— and our actions.

First, let us preserve a purity in our thoughts. These dark recesses, which the eye of the world cannot reach, are the receptacles of these youthful lusts. Here they find their first encourage­ment. The entrance of such impure ideas perhaps we cannot always prevent. We may always however prevent che­rishing them: we may always prevent their making an impression upon us: the devil may be cast out, as soon as discovered.

Let us always keep in mind, that even into these dark abodes the eye of heaven can penetrate: that every thought of our hearts is open to that God, before whom we must one day [Page 74] stand; and that however secretly we may indulge these impure ideas, at the great day of account, they will certainly appear in an awful detail against us.

Let us remember again, that if our bodies be the temples of the Holy Ghost, our minds are the very sanctua­ries of those temples: and if there be any weight in the apostle's argument a­gainst polluting our bodies, it urges with double force against polluting our minds.

But above all other considerations, it behoves us most to keep our thoughts pure, because they are the fountains from which our words and actions flow. "Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh." Obscene words and actions are only bad thoughts ma­tured; and spring as naturally from [Page 75] them, as the plant from its seed. It is the same vicious depravity carried a step farther; and only shews a more confirmed, and a more mischievous de­gree of guilt. While we keep our im­purities in our thoughts, they debauch only ourselves: bad enough, it is true. But when we proceed to words and ac­tions, we let our impurities loose: we spread the contagion, and become the corrupters of others.

Let it be our first care, therefore, to keep our thoughts pure. If we do this, our words and actions will be pure of course. And that we may be the bet­ter enabled to do it, let us use such helps as reason and religion prescribe. Let us avoid all company, and all books, that have a tendency to corrupt our minds; and every thing that can inflame our passions. He who allows [Page 76] himself in these things, holds a parley with vice; which will infallibly de­bauch him in the end, if he do not take the alarm in time, and break off such dalliance.

One thing ought to be our particular care, and that is, never to be unem­ployed. Ingenious amusements are of great use in filling up the vacuities of our time. Idle we should never be. A vacant mind is an invitation to vice.

[Page 79]WE are forbidden, next, "to co­vet, or desire other men's goods."

There are two great paths of vice, into which bad men commonly strike; that of unlawful pleasure, and that of unlawful gain.—The path of unlawful pleasure we have just examined; and have seen the danger of obeying the headstrong impulse of our appetites.— We have considered also an immoderate love of gain, and have seen dishonesty and fraud in a variety of shapes. But we have yet viewed them only as they relate to society. We have viewed only the outward action. The rule before us, "We must not covet, nor desire other men's goods," comes a step nearer home, and considers the motive which governs the action.

[Page 80]Covetousness, or the love of money, is called in scripture "the root of all evil:" and it is called so for two rea­sons; because it makes us wicked, and because it makes us miserable.

First, it makes us wicked. When it once gets possession of the heart, it will let no good principle flourish near it. Most vices have their fits; and when the violence of the passion is spent, there is some interval of calm. The vicious appetite cannot always run riot. It is fatigued at least by its own impetuosity: and it is possible, that in this moment of tranquillity, a whisper from virtue may be heard. But in ava­rice, there is rarely intermission. It hangs, like a dead weight upon the soul, always pulling it to earth. We might as well expect to see a plant [Page 81] grow upon a flint, as a virtue in the heart of a miser.

It makes us miserable as well as wic­ked. The cares and the fears of ava­rice are proverbial; and it must needs be that he, who depends for happiness on what is liable to a thousand acci­dents, must of course feel as many distresses, and almost as many disap­pointments. The good man depends for happiness on something more per­manent; and if his worldly affairs go ill, his great dependance is still left.^* But as wealth is the only god which the covetous man worships, (for "covet­ousness," we are told, "is idolatry,") a disappointment here, is a disappoint­ment [Page 82] indeed. Be he ever so prospe­rous, his wealth cannot secure him a­gainst the evils of mortality; against that time, when he must give up all he values; when his bargains of advantage will be over, and nothing left but tears and despair.

But even a desiring frame of mind, tho it be not carried to such a length, is always productive of misery. It can­not be otherwise. While we suffer our­selves to be continually in quest of what we have not, it is impossible that we should be happy with what we have. In a word, to abridge our wants as much as possible, not to increase them, is the truest happiness.

We are much mistaken, however, if we think the man who hoards up his money, is the only covetous man. The [Page 83] prodigal, though he differ in his end, may be as avaritious in his means.^* The former denies himself every comfort; the latter grasps at every pleasure. Both characters are equally bad in different extremes. The miser is more detest­able in the eyes of the world, because he enters into none of its joys; but it is a question, which is more wretched in himself, or more pernicious to so­ciety.

As covetousness is esteemed the vice of age, every appearance of it among young persons ought particularly to be discouraged; because, if it gets ground at this early period, nobody can tell how far it may not afterwards proceed. And yet, on the other side, there may [Page 84] be great danger of encouraging the op­posite extreme. As it is certainly right, under proper restrictions, both to save our money, and to spend it, it would be highly useful to fix the due bounds on each side. But nothing is more difficult than to raise these nice limits between extremes. Every man's case, in a thousand circumstances, differs from his neighbour's: and as no rule can be fixed for all; every man, of course, in these disquisitions, must be left to his own conscience. We are all indeed very ready to give our opinions how others ought to act. We can adjust with great nicety, what is proper for them to do; and point out their mistakes with much precision: while nothing is ne­cessary to us, but to act as properly as as we can ourselves; observing as just a mean as possible between prodigality and avarice; and applying, in all our [Page 85] difficulties, to the word of God, where these great land-marks of morality are the most accurately fixed.

We have now taken a view of what is prohibited in our commerce with mankind: let us next see what is in­joined. (We are still proceeding with those duties, which we owe to ourselves.) Instead of spending our fortune there­fore in unlawful pleasure, or increasing it by unlawful gain; we are required "to learn, and labour truly (that is ho­nestly) to get our own living, and to do our duty in that state of life, unto which it shall please God to call us."—These words will be sufficiently explained by considering, first, that we all have some station in life—some particular duties to discharge; and secondly, in what manner we ought to discharge them.

[Page 86]First, that man was not born to be idle, may be inferred from the active spirit, that appears in every part of na­ture. Every thing is alive; every thing contributes to the general good: even the very inanimate parts of the creation, plants, stones, metals, cannot be called totally inactive; but bear their part likewise in the general usefulness. If then every part, even of inanimate na­ture, be thus employed, surely we can­not suppose it was the intention of the almighty father, that man, who is the most capable of employing himself pro­perly, should be the only creature with­out employment.

Again, that man was born for active life, is plain from the necessity of la­bour. If it had not been necessary, God would not originally have imposed it. But without it, the body would become [Page 87] enervated, and the mind corrupted. Idle­ness therefore is justly esteemed the ori­gin, both of disease and vice. So that if labour, and employment, either of body, or mind, had no use, but what respected ourselves, they would be highly proper: but they have farther use.

The necessity of them is plain, from the want that all men have of the assist­ance of others. If so, this assistance should be mutual; every man should contribute his part. We have already seen, that it is proper, there should be different stations in the world,—that some should be placed high in life, and others low. The lowest, we know, cannot be exempt from labour; and the highest ought not: though their labour, according to their station, will be of a different kind. Some, we see, "must la­bour [Page 88] (as the catechism phrases it) to get their own living; and others should do their duty in that state of life, whatever that state is, unto which it hath pleased God to call them." All are assisted: all should assist. God distributes, we read, various talents among men; to some he gives five talents, to others two, and to others one: but it is ex­pected, we find, that notwithstanding this inequality, each should employ the talent that is given, to the best advan­tage: and he, who received five talents, was under the same obligation of im­proving them, as he who had received only one; and would, if he had hid his talents in the earth, have been punished, in proportion to the abuse. Every man, even in the highest station, may find a proper employment, both for his time and fortune, if he please: and he may assure himself, that God, by placing [Page 89] him in that station, never meant to ex­empt him from the common obligations of society, and give him a licence to spend his life in ease and pleasure. God meant assuredly, that he should bear his part in the general commerce of life,— that he should consider himself not as an individual, but as a member of the com­munity; the interests of which he is under an obligation to support, with all his power;—and that his elevated sta­tion gives him no other pre-eminence, than that of being the more extensively useful.

Having thus seen, that we have all some station in life to support—some particular duties to discharge; let us now see in what manner we ought to dis­charge them.

[Page 90]We have an easy rule given us in scripture, on this head; that all our duties in life should be performed "as to the Lord, and not unto man:" that is, we should consider our stations in life, as trusts reposed in us by our maker; and as such should discharge the duties of them. What, though no worldly trust be reposed? What, though we are accountable to nobody upon earth? Can we therefore suppose ourselves in reality less accountable? Can we sup­pose, that God, for no reason that we can divine, has singled us out, and given us a large proportion of the things of this world, (while others around us are in need), for no other purpose than to squander it away upon ourselves? To God undoubtedly we are accountable for every blessing we enjoy. What mean, in scripture, the talents given, and the [Page 91] use assigned; but the conscientious dis­charge of the duties of life, according to the advantages, with which they are attended?

It matters not whether these advan­tages be an inheritance, or an acquisi­tion: still they are the gift of God. Agreeably to their rank in life, it is true, all men should live: human di­stinctions require it; and in doing this properly, every one around will be be­nefited. Utility should be considered in all our expences. Even the very amusements of a man of fortune should be founded in it.

In short, it is the constant injunction of scripture, in whatever station we are placed, to consider ourselves as God's servants; and as acting immediately under his eye; not expecting our reward [Page 92] among men; but from our great master who is in heaven. This sanctifies, in a manner, all our actions: it places the little difficulties of our station in the light of God's appointments; and turns the most common duties of life into acts of religion.

[Page 95]WE have now gone through our duty to God, our neighbour, and ourselves; and should proceed, in the order pointed out in the catechism, to consider the lord's prayer: but it will not, perhaps, be amiss to step a little aside, and but a little, for the sake of one lesson on a subject, which to youth is very important; and without the observance of which, every station will be attended with its peculiar dan­ger: the lesson I mean respects the danger of keeping bad company.

"Evil communication, says the text, corrupts good manners." The assertion is general: and no doubt all people suffer from such communication; but above all, the minds of youth will suf­fer; which are yet unformed, unprin­cipled, [Page 96] unfurnished; and ready to re­ceive any impression.

But before we consider the danger of keeping bad company, let us first see the meaning of the phrase.

In the phrase of the world, good company means fashionable people. Their stations in life, not their morals are considered: and he, who associates with such, though they set him the ex­ample of breaking every commandment of the decalogue, is still said to keep good company.—I should wish you to fix another meaning to the expression; and to consider vice in the same detesta­ble light, in whatever company it is found; nay, to consider all company in which it is found, be their station what it will, as bad company.

[Page 97]The three following classes will per­haps include the greatest part of those, who deserve this appellation.

In the first, I should rank all who endeavour to destroy the principles of christianity—who jest upon scripture— talk blasphemy—and treat revelation with contempt.

A second class of bad company are those, who have a tendency to destroy in us the principles of common honesty and integrity. Under this head, we may rank gamesters of every denomina­tion; and the low, and infamous cha­racters of every profession.

A third class of bad company, and such as are commonly most dangerous to youth, includes the long catalogue of men of pleasure. In whatever way [Page 98] they follow the call of appetite, they have equally a tendency to corrupt the purity of the mind.

Besides these three classes, whom we may call bad company, there are others who come under the denomination of ill-chosen company: trifling, insipid cha­racters of every kind; who follow no business—are led by no ideas of im­provement—but spend their time in dissipation and folly—whose highest praise it is, that they are only not vi­cious.—With none of these, a serious man would wish his son to keep com­pany.

It may be asked what is meant by keep­ing bad company? The world abounds with characters of this kind: they meet us in every place; and if we keep com­pany [Page 99] at all, it is impossible to avoid keeping company with such persons.

It is true, if we were determined never to have any commerce with bad men, we must, as the apostle remarks, "altogether go out of the world." By keeping bad company, therefore is not meant a casual intercourse with them, on occasion of business; or as they acci­dentally fall in our way; but having an inclination to consort with them—com­plying with that inclination—seeking their company, when we might avoid it—entering into their parties—and mak­ing them the companions of our choice. Mixing with them occasionally, cannot be avoided.

The danger of keeping bad company, arises principally from our aptness to imitate and catch the manners and sen­timents [Page 100] of others—from the power of custom—from our own bad inclinations —and from the pains taken by the bad to corrupt us.^*

In our earliest youth, the contagion of manners is observable. In the boy, yet incapable of having any thing instilled into him, we easily discover from his first actions, and rude attempts at language, the kind of persons, with whom he has been brought up: we see the early spring of a civilized education; or the first wild shoots of rusticity.

As he enters farther into life, his be­haviour, manners, and conversation, all take their cast from the company he keeps. Observe the peasant, and the man of education; the difference is [Page 101] striking. And yet God hath bestowed equal talents on each. The only diffe­rence is, they have been thrown into different scenes of life; and have had commerce with persons of different stations.

Nor are manners and behaviour more easily caught; than opinions, and prin­ciples. In childhood and youth, we naturally adopt the sentiments of those about us. And as we advance in life, how few of us think for ourselves? How many of us are satisfied with tak­ing our opinions at second hand?

The great power, and force of custom forms another argument against keeping bad company. However seriously dis­posed we may be; and however shocked at the first approaches of vice; this shocking appearance goes off, upon an [Page 102] intimacy with it. Custom will soon render the most disgustful thing fami­liar. And this is indeed a kind provi­sion of nature, to render labour, and toil, and danger, which are the lot of man, more easy to him. The raw sol­dier, who trembles at the first encoun­ter, becomes a hardy veteran in a few campaigns. Habit renders danger fa­miliar, and of course indifferent to him.

But habit, which is intended for our good, may, like other kind appoint­ments of nature, be converted into a mischief. The well-disposed youth, en­tering first into bad company, is shocked at what he hears, and what he sees. The good principles, which he had im­bibed, ring in his ears an alarming lesson against the wickedness of his com­panions. But, alas! this sensibility is but of a day's continuance. The next [Page 103] jovial meeting makes the horrid pic­ture of yesterday more easily endured. Virtue is soon thought a severe rule; the gospel, an inconvenient restraint: a few pangs of conscience now and then interrupt his pleasures; and whisper to him, that he once had better thoughts: but even these by degrees die away; and he who at first was shocked even at the appearance of vice, is formed by custom, into a profligate leader of vi­cious pleasures—perhaps into an aban­doned tempter to vice.—So carefully should we oppose the first approaches of sin! so vigilant should we be against so insidious an enemy!

Our own bad inclinations form ano­ther argument against bad company. We have so many passions and appetites to govern; so many bad propensities of different kinds to watch, that, amidst [Page 104] such a variety of enemies within, we ought at least to be on our guard against those without. The breast even of a good man is represented in scripture, and experienced in fact, to be in a state of warfare. His vicious inclinations are continually drawing him one way; while his virtue is making efforts ano­ther. And if the scriptures represent this as the case even of a good man, whose passions, it may be imagined, are be­come in some degree cool, and temperate, and who has made some progress in a virtuous course; what may we suppose to be the danger of a raw unexperienced youth, whose passions and appetites are violent and seducing, and whose mind is in a still less confirmed state? It is his part surely to keep out of the way of temptation; and to give his bad in­clinations as little room as possible, to acquire new strength.

[Page 107]THESE arguments against keeping bad company, will still receive additional strength; if we consider far­ther, the great pains taken by the bad to corrupt others. It is a very true, but lamentable fact, in the history of human nature, that bad men take more pains to corrupt their own species, than virtuous men do to reform them. Hence those specious arts, that show of friend­ship, that appearance of disinterestness, with which the profligate seducer en­deavours to lure the unwary youth; and at the same time, yielding to his incli­nations, seems to follow rather than to lead him. Many are the arts of these corrupters; but their principal art is ridicule. By this they endeavour to laugh out of countenance all the better principles of their wavering proselyte; and make him think contemptibly of [Page 108] those, whom he formerly respected: by this they stifle the ingenuous blush; and finally destroy all sense of shame. Their cause is below argument. They aim not therefore at reasoning. Raillery is the weapon they employ; and who is there, that hath the steadiness to hear persons and things, whatever reverence he may have had for them, the subject of continual ridicule, without losing that reverence by degrees?

Having thus considered what prin­cipally makes bad company dangerous, I shall just add, that even were your morals in no danger from such inter­course, your characters would infallibly suffer. The world will always judge of you by your companions: and no­body will suppose, that a youth of virtuous principles himself, can possibly form a connection with a profligate.

[Page 109]In reply to the danger supposed to arise from bad company, perhaps the youth may say, he is so firm in his own opinions, so steady in his principles, that he thinks himself secure; and need not restrain himself from the most un­reserved conversation.

Alas! this security is the very brink of the precipice: nor hath vice in her whole train a more dangerous enemy to you, than presumption. Caution, ever awake to danger, is a guard against it. But security lays every guard asleep. "Let him who thinketh, he standeth," saith the apostle, "take heed, lest he fall." Even an apostle himself did fall, by thinking, that he stood secure. "Though I should die with thee," said St. Peter to his master, "yet will I not deny thee." That very night, notwith­standing this boasted security, he re­peated [Page 110] the crime three several times. And can we suppose, that presumption, which occasioned an apostle's fall, shall not ruin an unexperienced youth? The story is recorded for our instruction; and should be a standing lesson against presuming upon our own strength.

In conclusion, such as the dangers are, which arise from bad company, such are the advantages, which accrue from good. We imitate, and catch the manners, and sentiments of good men, as we do of bad. Custom, which ren­ders vice less a deformity, renders vir­tue more lovely. Good examples have a force beyond instruction, and warm us into emulation beyond precept: while the countenance and conversation of virtuous men encourage, and draw out into action every kindred disposition of our hearts.

[Page 111]Besides, as a sense of shame often prevents our doing a right thing in bad company; it operates in the same way in preventing our doing a wrong one in good. Our character becomes a pledge; and we cannot, without a kind of dis­honour, draw back.

It is not possible, indeed, for a youth, yet unfurnished with knowledge, (which fits him for good company) to chuse his companions as he pleases. A youth must have something peculiarly attrac­tive, to qualify him for the acquain­tance of men of established reputation. What he has to do, is, at all events, to avoid bad company; and to endea­vour, by improving his mind and mo­rals, to qualify himself for the best.

Happy is that youth, who, upon his entrance into the world, can chuse [Page 112] his company with discretion. There is often in vice, a gayety, an unreserve, a freedom of manners, which are apt at sight to engage the unwary: while vir­tue, on the other hand, is often modest, reserved, diffident, backward, and easily disconcerted. That freedom of man­ners, however engaging, may cover a very corrupt heart: and this awkward­ness, however unpleasing, may veil a thousand virtues. Suffer not your mind therefore, to be easily either engaged, or disgusted at first sight. Form your inti­macies with reserve: and if drawn un­awares into an acquaintance you disap­prove, immediately retreat. Open not your hearts to every profession of friend­ship. They, whose friendship is worth accepting, are, as you ought to be, reserved in offering it. Chuse your companions, not merely for the sake of a few outward accomplishments—for [Page 113] the idle pleasure of spending an agree­able hour; but mark their disposition to virtue or vice; and, as much as pos­sible, chuse those for your companions, whom you see others respect: always re­membering, that upon the choice of your company depends in a great mea­sure, the success of all you have learned; the hopes of your friends; your future characters in life; and, what you ought above all other things to value, the pu­rity of your hearts.

[Page 117]BEFORE we enter upon the lord's prayer, which falls next under our examination, it may be proper to con­sider prayer in general—the object, the advantages, and the qualifications of it; together with some of the most popular objections, which are made to it.

When we consider the infinite distance between God and man—between that being, whom the heaven of heavens can­not contain; and man, with all the weaknesses of mortality about him; it may at first appear matter of astonish­ment, that we are allowed any commu­nication with so great a being. The distinctions, which worldly policy, and worldly pride, make among mankind, —among creatures of the same rank, cannot but raise our ideas still higher of the goodness of God! When we see [Page 118] man treating his fellow-creatures with petulance, and disdain, upon the vile distinctions of station, family, and for­tune; what a lesson to us is the good­ness of God! Merciful, mild, and condescending to our weaknesses, he listens to, and grants, the petitions of his meanest creatures.

The first great object of prayer is the praise of God. The works of crea­tion naturally raise it: and the good­ness of God, in continuing to us that being, which we cannot ourselves pre­serve; and the comforts which we can­not ourselves procure; brings it home to our feelings. It is a duty, which every rational creature owes to his crea­tor. It is also one of the best sources of our happiness. Simple praise, which consists merely in extolling excellence, is a pleasing theme. But when it is [Page 119] excited by gratitude, it flows with still greater pleasure. Gratitude has a ten­dency to improve that happy disposition of mind, which feels every enjoyment that it possesses.

A second object of prayer is, to so­licit the pardon of our sins. God not only permits, but even injoins us to to do it: and he has appointed penitent prayer, as one of the means of obtaining pardon. It must ever be accompanied by confession; as confessing a fault is one of the first steps towards amending it. In this humiliating employment, we have not only to deplore our own sinfulness; but the lost condition of human nature. Without being truly sensible of this, we can neither acknow­ledge the means, which God hath used to obviate it; nor be grateful for them.

[Page 120]After thanking God for his past goodness, and endeavouring to make ourselves as worthy as we can of fu­ture favours; it is the next object of prayer, to petition a supply of our wants. Among them the principal is, that of the assistance of God's holy spi­rit. It is the constant doctrine of scrip­ture, that, however necessary our own endeavours are, to make us virtuous; they are not sufficient alone to do it. Our own feelings and imperfections, in a thousand instances, must convince us that this is the case. To counteract the depravity of nature, God hath pro­mised us the divine assistance of his holy spirit: and earnest prayer is the means he hath appointed for the attain­ment of that end. We are permitted also to pray for our temporal wants. This is indeed the nicest and most de­licate part of prayer. Too thankful [Page 121] for past mercies we cannot be: too earnest in soliciting the pardon of our sins, and God's spiritual assistance, we cannot be: but so short sighted are we, that in begging a supply of our temporal wants, we may easily err. But on these heads, I shall be more full, in the explanation of the Lord's prayer.

Besides praising God for his mercies; asking pardon for our sins; and beg­ing a supply of our wants, which are the primary objects of prayer; there are other great advantages, which are closely connected with it.

Of these the first, is to preserve in our minds a sense of God, and of our de­pendence upon him. When we praise God, we are naturally impressed with an idea of his perfections; and when we beg the forgiveness of our sins, and a [Page 122] supply of our wants; we are as naturally reminded, that we are weak and sinful creatures: that we are continually un­der the eye of an all-powerful Being; and are in hourly need of his protection, and favour. And if our prayers be constant, uniform, and fervent; these great truths will be impressed upon our minds, and become the leading princi­ples of our lives.

Prayer is calculated also to impress us with a sense of our duty; and to keep us steady in the practice of it. A virtuous wish is a step towards virtue. A fervent prayer is still a nearer ad­vance. To pray ardently for an in­crease of virtue, even in a natural way, must increase it: and to pray frequently, must tend to preserve it. Indeed, in the whole circle of christian duties, perhaps there is not one, which has a [Page 123] greater effect in forming the heart, than rational devotion.

After the advantages of prayer, let us consider the qualifications of it: or, what concomitant circumstances are ne­cessary to make it an acceptable service to God. It should be founded in faith; and accompanied with humility, sin­cerity, resolutions of amendment, and charity. It should also be offered up in the name, and through the merits of Christ.

It should first be founded in faith. It is obvious to common sense, that "he who cometh to God, must believe that he is; and that he is a rewarder of them, who diligently seek him:" other­wise, why should we come to him at all? We ought therefore to trust his promises, and put up our prayers in the [Page 124] full assurance of being heard. Even men, when their word is plighted, expect this confidence. And shall we ap­proach God with less confidence, than we do man?

Secondly, our prayers must be ac­companied with humility. Humility is expected, even when we ask a favour of our fellow-creatures. What humi­liation then is due to God, from whom we have every thing to ask; and be­fore whom we have not the smallest merits to plead? An humble heart is in itself a pleasing sacrifice to God. The humility of the publican was half his prayer.

They should be accompanied also with sincerity. Mere lip-service can never please God. It is a mockery of him. Indeed, if our minds are thorough­ly [Page 125] impressed with a sense of God's pow­er and goodness; and of our own weak­ness and dependence; our prayers will of course be sincere: we shall find it less difficult to check the idle wander­ings of our thoughts: we shall confess our sins with an heartfelt contrition; and praise God with unfeigned thank­fulness. I shall just add, that as we should guard, on one hand, against an unanimate coldness, and insensibility; so ought we, on the other, to avoid all irrational fervour, in our devotions. The effusions of a heated imagination, cannot be a pleasing sacrifice to an all-wise God.

But sincere prayer is of little value in the sight of God, if it be not accom­panied with steady resolutions of a­mendment. If the heart be not im­proved, devotion is dead. Its fruit is [Page 126] lost. To implore pardon for our sins, and not endeavour to avoid them; is shewing ourselves to be just so much in earnest, as to own we are in the wrong; without attempting to get right.

One thing more is necessary to make our devotions acceptable to God; they should be offered up in the spirit of charity. He who begs forgiveness at God's hands, in an unforgiving temper, may as well omit his prayers. He had better omit them. To his uncharitable temper, he only adds a new offence— that of an unworthy prayer. It is the constant language of scripture, that "with the same measure with which we mete, it shall be measured to us again. Give, and it shall be given unto you. Forgive, and ye shall be forgiven."

[Page 127]But no human qualifications alone can carry up our prayers to the throne of grace. We must have other merits, besides our own, to make them accep­table in the sight of God—the all-suffi­cient merits of our blessed Redeemer. He is the great mediator between God and man. A holy life makes his me­rits, ours. All our prayers therefore should be offered up in his name, and through his most powerful mediation.

But in the Lord's prayer, no mention is made of the merits of Christ.

It is true; nor could there. When that prayer was composed, the great atonement was not made. How could it then be pleaded? But we are told, it ought to be pleaded, as soon as it was made. "Hitherto," said our Saviour to his disciples, a little before his passion, [Page 128] "have ye asked nothing in my name: but whatsoever you shall ask the Father in my name, he will give it you."

When all these qualifications are u­nited; when our prayers are founded in faith—when they are accompanied with humility, sincerity, resolutions of amendment, and charity—and lastly, when they are offered up in the name, and through the merits of Christ; we may assure ourselves, that they will be acceptable in the sight of God.

I shall just add, on this subject, that besides formal prayers, either public or private, a devout mind will find many opportunities of exercising itself, in the midst even of business and pleasure. An ejaculation of praise, a single petition, raised from the heart, in one devout thought, unaccompanied by any exter­nal [Page 129] act, will unquestionably find its way to heaven. This is literally having God in all our thoughts; and making our lives a continual prayer.

As reasonable a duty, however, as prayer is, objections have been made to it.

Praise, it hath been said, is an absurd homage: as if the Almighty Father could be pleased with the empty praises of a poor insignificant race of creatures. We are to do all, it seems, to the glory of God. What glory can God receive from our doings? Doth his name in any respect depend upon the breath of man?

To this objection we answer, that if the real exaltation of God's glory, or if any addition to his happiness, be sup­posed [Page 130] to be the intention of praise; the idea indeed were very absurd. But certainly with regard to man; no em­ployment can be more adapted to his nature, or in itself more rational, than to praise his creator. It reminds him of all those great attributes, which, as he praises them, he learns to imitate. It reminds him of that infinite wisdom and power, on which he ought always to depend. It reminds him of that ten­derness, and indulgence, which he has so often experienced, and which he ought ever to praise.

When we are ordered therefore to do every thing for the glory of God, the expression is merely adapted to common acceptation; and alludes to the glory of earthly princes, which good subjects advance by obeying the laws. The highest glory therefore, according to [Page 131] our ideas, which God can receive from his creatures, arises from their obe­dience to his commands.

But it is absurd, replies the objector, to inform God of our wants: nay such information amounts almost to a denial of his omniscience.

Undoubtedly, if it were the intention of the petitioner to inform God; but this never enters into the idea of a prayer. God hath injoined us to pray for a supply of our wants, as a mean of receiving it. In what manner prayer is efficacious to this purpose, it is not for us to inquire. One thing is very ob­vious, that dependant creatures ought always to be reminded of their depend­ent state; and of that Being, from whose bounty they receive every thing they enjoy. And nothing surely can [Page 132] be better calculated than prayer, to pro­mote this wise end.

But is not prayer an absurd attempt to alter the stated course of things? And is it not high presumption to ima­gine, that God will alter it for the sake of our petitions?

The objection is founded in igno­rance. Do we know what is the stated course of things? Do we know whe­ther there even exists what the objector calls a stated course? Or whether God may not reserve all events, as far as free agents are concerned, in a mutable con­dition, dependant on circumstances.

In whatever way our prayers are ef­ficacious, it is not our part to inquire. We have the Almighty's express com­mand for this intercourse with him; and [Page 133] therefore we ought with thankfulness to comply. He who gave the command, knows best how to make the compliance with it effectual.

[Page 137]HAVING thus considered prayer in general, let us now consider the Lord's prayer.

This prayer was composed by our Saviour, upon a request which his dis­ciples made him; to "teach them to pray, as John taught his disciples." Much of the substance of it is supposed to have been taken from the Jewish forms, then in use; from which our Saviour, as it appears, selecting proper parts, adapted them to his own pur­pose. This mode of composing a prayer was agreeable to his usual practice; which was to give as little offence as possible to the prejudices of men. In forming a prayer, therefore, he chose rather to take in part what he found already established, than to compose one entirely anew.

[Page 138]This prayer was not only intended as a form of prayer in itself, but also as a model to shew us how to fashion our prayers. We have the great lines of rational devotion marked out; to which we may adapt our own exigencies. This seems implied in the introduction; "After this manner pray ye." As if our Saviour had said, The precise form of words here given you, needs not al­ways be adhered to: but let it be your general direction.

The Lord's prayer seems to admit an easy division into five parts.

The first contains an invocation of praise: "Our Father, which art in heaven."

The second contains a petition for the general good of mankind; "Hal­lowed [Page 139] be thy name; thy kingdom come; thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven."

The third part contains a petition for temporal blessings: "Give us this day our daily bread."

The fourth, for spiritual: "And for­give us our trespasses, as we forgive them that trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation; but deliver us from evil."

The fifth concludes with a profession of our faith. "For thine is the king­dom, the power, and the glory, for ever and ever."

[Page 163]WE have now considered the great duties of faith and obedience; in which consists the sum of religion. These we commonly call morally right, or right in their own nature.

Besides these, there is another species of duties, which are called positive. In their own nature they are indifferent; but are rendered binding, only as they are appointed by divine authority.

The Jews were burdened with a hea­vy load of these positive duties. One may almost say, the spirit of the Mosaic law consisted in them. In ceremonies also consisted entirely the religion of the heathens. All they knew indeed of re­ligion was a burthensome ritual, made up of external acts, which had no refe­rence to life, and manners.

[Page 164]Never was any system of religion so free from the burden of ceremonies as christianity; never was any religion so purely addressed to the heart. The two sacraments, of baptism, and the Lord's supper, are the only ceremonies ordain­ed by Christ; both certainly very ap­posite—baptism, as an outward testimo­ny of our entrance into the christian religion; and the Lord's supper, as an outward testimony of our continuance in it. The former, of course, is ad­ministred only once; the latter, fre­quently.

The short account of the sacraments, contained in the catechism, considers three points; the nature of a sacrament in general—the nature of the sacrament of baptism — and the nature of the Lord's supper.

[Page 165]With regard to the nature of a sacra­ment in general, it is first asked, how many sacraments Christ hath ordained?

The answer is, Two only, as gene­rally necessary to salvation; viz. baptism, and the supper of the Lord.

This question points chiefly at the papists, who hold seven sacraments— baptism, the Lord's supper, confirma­tion, matrimony, penance, orders, and extreme unction. Now as the word sacrament is no where defined in scrip­ture; we have no objection to a dozen sacraments, instead of seven, if the pa­pists chuse it: all we contend for, is, that none of them should be placed upon an equal footing with baptism and the Lord's supper; which, accor­ding to our definition of a sacrament, [Page 166] are the only two that are ordained by Christ.

The word sacrament originally im­plied the oath which soldiers took to their leader; and under this idea it was first adopted into the language of reli­gion. But its meaning, in the earlier ages, was very indefinite: and we find it used among the writers of the first centuries, to express any thing myste­rious in religion. By degrees, it ob­tained a closer acceptation; and among protestants was, at length, confined merely to baptism, and the Lord's sup­per. However, still unfortunately, the old idea of a mystery in some degree cleaves to it; and has been of prejudice to one of these rites especially; which in itself seems to be as simple, as it is sig­nificant.

[Page 167]We define a sacrament to be an out­ward, and visible sign of an inward and spiritual grace; ordained by Christ him­self as a means, whereby we receive the same, and a pledge to assure us there­of.

In a sacrament, there must first be an outward, visible sign of an inward and spiritual grace; that is, a sensible repre­sentation of some benefit received.

A sacrament must, secondly, be dis­tinguished from other ceremonies, by being ordained by Christ. Common ceremonies the church may decree, and abrogate at pleasure. They are useful merely for the sake of order; and un­der different circumstances, different ceremonies may take place. But a sa­crament, as ordained by Christ, is of perpetual obligation.

[Page 168]Lastly, a sacrament is a means where­by we receive the grace of God, and a pledge to assure us thereof.—The go­spel, we know, is a gracious covenant between God and man. On our part, the conditions are faith, and obedience. On God's part, the forgiveness of our sins, and eternal life. Now the sacra­ments of baptism, and the Lord's sup­per, are the appointed means, whereby we receive, or declare our acceptance of these conditions; and our resolution of observing them. And on God's part, they are a kind of pledge, and security, that these gracious conditions shall be performed. Seals, and signatures, are visible signs, which have in all ages been thought necessary in the execution of a covenant: they are necessary to re­duce into a formal act, what would otherwise be only an intention of the mind. In conformity to human ideas, [Page 169] God thought fit to appoint circumcision, as a ratification of the Jewish covenant. St. Paul mentions it under the idea of a ^* seal, by which that covenant was confirmed.—Under the same idea, the two sacraments were appointed; and may be considered, on God's part, as his seals to the covenant of grace: or, (as it is here phrased) pledges to assure us thereof.

A sacrament, in general, being thus defined, the sacrament of baptism is next considered; in which, if we consi­der the inward grace, we shall see how aptly the sign represents it.—The in­ward grace, or thing signified, we are told, is "a death unto sin, and a new birth unto righteousness:" by which is [Page 170] meant that great renovation of nature, that purity of heart, which the christian religion is intended to produce. And surely there cannot be a more signifi­cant sign of this than water, on account of its cleansing nature. As water re­freshes the body, and purifies it from all contracted filth; it aptly represents that renovation of nature, which clean­ses the soul from the impurities of sin. Water indeed, among the ancients, was more adapted to the thing signified, than it is at present among us. They used immersion in baptising: so that the child being dipped into the water, and raised out again; baptism with them was more significant of a new birth un­to righteousness. But though we, in these colder climates, think immersion an unsafe practice; yet the original meaning is still supposed.

[Page 171]It is next asked, What is required of those who are baptised? To this we answer, "Repentance, whereby they forsake sin; and faith, whereby they stedfastly believe the promises of God, made to them in that sacrament."

The primitive church was extremely strict on this head. In those times, be­fore christianity was established, when adults offered themselves to baptism, no one was admitted, till he had given a very satisfactory evidence of his repen­tance; and till, on good grounds, he could profess his faith in Christ: and it was afterwards expected from him, that he should prove his faith, and repen­tance, by a regular obedience, during the future part of his life.

If faith, and repentance, are expect­ed at baptism; it is a very natural ques­tion, [Page 172] Why then are infants baptised, when, by reason of their tender age, they can give no evidence of either?

Whether infants should be admitted to baptism, or whether that sacrament should be deferred till years of discre­tion; is a question in the christian church, which hath been agitated with some animosity. Our church by no means looks upon baptism as necessary to the infant's salvation.^* No man ac­quainted with the spirit of christianity, can conceive, that God will leave the salvation of so many innocent souls in [Page 173] the hands of others. But the practice is considered as founded upon the usage of the earliest times: and the church observing, that circumcision was the in­troductory rite to the jewish covenant; and that baptism was intended to suc­ceed circumcision; it naturally suppo­ses, that baptism should be administred to infants, as circumcision was. The church, however, in this case, hath provided sponsors; who make a profes­sion of obedience in the child's name. But the nature and office of this proxy hath been already examined, under the head of our baptismal vow.

[Page 177]HAVING thus considered the sa­crament of baptism, the cate­chism proceeds lastly to the sacrament of the Lord's supper.

The first question is an inquiry into the original of the institution: "Why was the sacrament of the Lord's supper ordained?"

It was ordained, we are informed,— "for the continual remembrance of the sacrifice of the death of Christ; and of the benefits which we receive thereby."

In examining a sacrament in general, we have already seen, that both bap­tism, and the Lord's supper, were ori­ginally instituted as the "means of re­ceiving the grace of God; and as pledges to assure us thereof."

[Page 178]But besides these primary ends, they have each a secondary one; in repre­senting the two most important truths of religion; which gives them more force, and influence. Baptism, we have seen, represents that renovation of our sinful nature, which the gospel was in­tended to introduce: and the peculiar end, which the Lord's supper had in view, was the sacrifice of the death of Christ; with all the benefits which arise from it—the remission of our sins—and the reconciliation of the world to God. "This do," said our Saviour, (allud­ing to the passover, which the Lord's supper was designed to supersede) not as hitherto, in memory of your deliver­ance from Egypt; but in memory of that greater deliverance, of which the other was only a type: "Do it in re­membrance of me."

[Page 179]The outward part, or sign of the Lord's supper, is "bread and wine"— the things signified are the "body and blood of Christ."—In examining the sacrament of baptism, I endeavoured to shew, how very apt a symbol water is in that ceremony. Bread and wine also are symbols equally apt in repre­senting the body and blood of Christ: and in the use of these particular sym­bols, it is reasonable to suppose, that our Saviour had an eye to the Jewish passover; in which it was a custom to drink wine, and to eat bread. He might have instituted any other apt symbols for the same purpose; but it was his usual practice, through the whole system of his institution, to make it, in every part, as familiar as possi­ble: and for this reason he seems to have chosen such symbols as were then in use; that he might give as little of­fence, [Page 180] as possible, in a matter of indif­ference.

As our Saviour, in the institution of his supper, ordered both the bread and the wine to be received; it is certainly a great error in papists, to deny the cup to the laity. They say indeed, that, as both flesh and blood are united in the substance of the human body; so are they in the sacramental bread; which, according to them, is changed, or, as they phrase it, transubstantiated into the real body of Christ. If they have no other reason, why do they ad­minister wine to the clergy? The cler­gy might participate equally of both in the bread.—But the plain truth is, they are desirous, by this invention, to add an air of mystery to the sacrament, and a superstitious reverence to the priest; as if he, being endowed with some pe­culiar [Page 181] holiness, might be allowed the use of both.

There is a difficulty in this part of the catechism, which should not be passed over. We are told, that "the body and blood of Christ are verily, and indeed taken, and received by the faithful in the Lord's supper." This expression sounds very like the popish doctrine, just mentioned, of transub­stantiation. The true sense of the words undoubtedly is, that the faithful be­liever only, verily and indeed receives the benefit of the sacrament: but the expression must be allowed to be inac­curate, as it is capable of an interpre­tation so entirely opposite to that which the church of England hath always professed.—I would not willingly sup­pose, as some have done, that the com­pilers of the catechism meant to manage [Page 182] the affair of transubstantiation with the papists. It is one thing to shew a libe­rality of sentiment in matters of indif­ference; and another to speak timidly, and ambiguously, where essentials are concerned.

It is next asked, What benefits we receive from the Lord's supper? To which it is answered, "The strength­ening and refreshing of our souls by the body and blood of Christ, as our bodies are by the bread and wine." As our bodies are strengthened and refresh­ed, in a natural way, by bread and wine; so should our souls be, in a spi­ritual way, by a devout commemoration of the passion of Christ. By gratefully remembering what he suffered for us, we should be excited to a greater ab­horrence of sin, which was the cause of his sufferings. Every time we partake [Page 183] of this sacrament, like faithful soldiers, we take a fresh oath to our leader; and should be animated anew, by his ex­ample, to persevere in the spiritual con­flict, in which, under him, we are en­gaged.

It is lastly asked, "What is required of them, who come to the Lord's sup­per?" To which we answer, "That we should examine ourselves, whether we repent us truly of our former sins— stedfastly purposing to lead a new life— have a lively faith in God's mercy through Christ—with a thankful re­membrance of his death; and to be in charity with all men."

That pious frame of mind is here, in very few words, pointed out; which a Christian ought to cherish, and culti­vate in himself at all times; but espe­cially, [Page 184] upon the performance of any solemn act of religion. Very little in­deed is said in scripture, of any particu­lar frame of mind, which should accom­pany the performance of this duty; but it may easily be inferred from the nature of the duty itself.

In the first place, "we should repent us truly of our former sins; stedfastly purposing to lead a new life." He who performs a religious exercise, without being earnest in this point; adds only a pharisaical hypocricy to his other sins. Unless he seriously resolve to lead a good life, he had better be all of a piece; and not pretend, by receiving the sacrament, to a piety which he does not feel.

These "stedfast purposes of leading a new life," form a very becoming ex­ercise [Page 185] to christians. The lives even of the best of men afford only a mortify­ing retrospect. Though they may have conquered some of their worst propen­sities; yet the triumphs of sin over them, at the various periods of their lives, will always be remembered with sor­row; and may always be remembered with advantage; keeping them on their guard for the future, and strengthening them more and more in all their good resolutions of obedience.—And when can these meditions arise more properly, than when we are performing a rite, instituted on purpose to commemorate the great atonement for sin?

To our repentance, and resolutions of obedience, we are required to add "a lively faith in God's mercy through Christ; with a thankful remembrance of his death." We should impress our­selves [Page 186] with the deepest sense of humility —totally rejecting every idea of our own merit—hoping for God's favour only through the merits of our great Redeemer—and with hearts full of gra­titude, trusting only to his all-sufficient sacrifice.

Lastly, we are required, at the cele­bration of this great rite, to be "in charity with all men." It commemo­rates the greatest instance of love that can be conceived; and should therefore raise in us correspondent affections. It should excite in us that constant flow of benevolence, in which the spirit of religion consists; and without which indeed we can have no religion at all. Love is the very distinguishing badge of christianity: "By this," said our great Master, "shall all men know that ye are my disciples."

[Page 187]One species of charity should, at this time, never be forgotten; and that is, the forgiveness of others. No ac­ceptable gift can be offered at this al­tar, but in the spirit of reconciliation. —Hence it was, that the ancient chris­tians instituted, at the celebration of the Lord's supper, what they called love-feasts. They thought, they could not give a better instance of their being in perfect charity with each other; than by joining, all ranks together, in one common meal.—By degrees, in­deed, this well-meant custom degene­rated; and it may not be amiss to ob­serve here, that the passages ^* in which these enormities are rebuked, have been variously misconstrued; and have fright­ened many well-meaning persons from the sacrament. Whereas what the a­postle here says, hath no other relation [Page 188] to this rite, than as it was attended by a particular abuse in receiving it: and as this is a mode of abuse, which doth not now exist; the apostle's reproof seems not to affect the christians of this age.

What the ^* primary, and what the ^† secondary ends in the two sacraments were, I have endeavoured to explain. But there might be others.

God might intend them as trials of our faith. The divine truths of the gospel speak for themselves: but the performance of a positive duty rests only on faith.

These institutions are also strong ar­guments for the truth of christianity. We trace the observance of them into [Page 189] the very earliest times of the gospel. We can trace no other origin, than what the scriptures give us. These rites therefore greatly tend to corrobo­rate the scriptures.

God also, who knows what is in man, might condescend so far to his weakness, as to give him these external badges of religion, to keep the spirit of it more alive. And it is indeed pro­bable, that nothing has contributed more than these ceremonies to preserve a sense of religion among mankind. It is a melancholy proof of this, that no contentions in the christian church have been more violent, nor carried on with more acrimony, and unchristian zeal, than the contentions about baptism and the Lord's supper; as if the very essence of religion consisted in this or that mode of observing these rites.— But this is the abuse of them.

[Page 190]Let us be better taught: let us re­ceive these sacraments, for the gracious purposes for which our Lord injoined them, with gratitude, and with reve­rence. But let us not lay a greater stress upon them than our Lord intend­ed. Heaven, we doubt not, may be gained, when there have been the means of receiving neither the one sacrament nor the other. But unless our affec­tions are right, and our lives answer­able to them; we can never please God, though we perform the externals of re­ligion with ever so much exactness. We may err in our notions about the sacraments: the world has long been divided on these subjects; and a gra­cious God, it may be hoped, will par­don our errors. But in matters of prac­tice, we have no apology for error. The great lines of our duty are drawn so strong, that a deviation here, is not error, but guilt.

[Page 191]Let us then, to conclude from the whole, make it our principal care to purify our hearts in the sight of God. Let us beseech him to increase the in­fluence of his Holy Spirit within us, that our faith may be of that kind, "which worketh by love;" that all our affections, and from them our ac­tions may flow in a steady course of obedience; that each day may correct the last by a sincere repentance of our mistakes in life; and that we may con­tinue gradually to approach nearer the idea of christian perfection. Let us do this, disclaiming, after all, any merits of our own; and not trusting in out­ward observances; but trusting in the merits of Christ to make up our defi­ciencies; and we need not fear our ac­ceptance with God.