Chapter II: A SECOND reason for hearing with caution, is, that the hearers

are required to judge for themselves whether what is delivered to them be, _indeed_, the word of God. Without this care, impostures may be endless, and the effect of them fatal.

When we give up ourselves with an implicit trust to others in mere temporal concerns, the mischief, although considerable, may yet be checked by experience; or, at most, as it respects this life only, is not conclusive and irreparable: but in matters of religion, if we accept _that_ as the word of God, and act upon it, which has no higher authority than the word of fallible and presumptuous men, we may be led into all the visions of fanaticism or superstition, and into all the crimes which so naturally spring from both, to the loss of our future, as well as present happiness.

It pleased God, therefore, from the time that miracles ceased to be the credentials of his ministers in the Christian Church, to secure the faithful from these dangers by the guidance of the _written Word_; in which, besides _special rules_ there given for the trial of _the spirits, whether they are of God_, such _general principles_ are delivered as may direct our judgment. And by the help of these, interpreted by the _tenor_ of that word, and the _analogy_ of faith, we may be secured from all deception or surprize.

It is true, all men cannot _apply_ these rules and principles, or not with full knowledge and effect. Woe, therefore, be to him who abuses the incapacity of such hearers, by obtruding on their easy belief his own fancies, as the doctrines of God! But to the abler hearers of the word, to all, indeed, who are competently instructed in their Religion, the task is not difficult to avoid gross and dangerous delusions, to determine for themselves _whether the doctrine be of God_, or not. This task, I say, is _not difficult_; yet it implies care and circumspection; and the necessity of discharging it must be allowed a good argument for _taking heed what we hear_.

III. A further reason for this diligence in _hearing_ is, That the hearers are expected and required _to profit by the word spoken_.

_The word of wisdom and of knowledge is given to every man to profit withal[115]._ It is not a curious problem, a fine lecture, a trial of wit, or play of ingenuity, calculated to entertain us for the time, and to be laid aside and forgotten by us again, when the occasion is over. The ministry of the word is of another kind, and destined to higher purposes. It is an instrument of reproof, of exhortation, of instruction in righteousness. _The sword of the spirit_ is put into the hands of men for no ends of pageantry and amusement. The minister of God _bears it not in vain_. He is entrusted with it to smite the hearts of the wicked, to _pierce through the souls_ of unrighteous men, and to flash conviction in the face of unbelievers. It is an ordinance of God, by which he would humble the proud, and convert the obstinate; strengthen the weak, and confirm the wise, hearer. Whatever our condition, it is to be corrected or improved by the word of God; whatever our necessities, they are to be relieved by it. But every gift of the spirit, as well as faith, _cometh by hearing_: and that not in the instant, but by degrees; for the Gospel does not illuminate and sanctify men at once; but by successive improvements, according to the care with which we listen to its admonitions, and the impression they make upon us. Hence it concerns the hearer, that nothing be lost, and that _the good seed_ be not committed to the ground in vain. One _truth_ received, prepares the mind to entertain a second; that, a third; and so on, till we become perfect in the knowledge of the _faith_. Our moral advances are made in the same manner: one good resolution begets another, which again produces succeeding ones, till, through several intervening states, we arrive, or almost arrive, at perfect _obedience_.

And this consideration, indeed, seems to have been immediately present to our Lord, when he delivered the admonition in the text. For so he comments upon, and enforces his own words—_Take heed what ye hear_: [for] _with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you, and_ TO YOU THAT HEAR, SHALL MORE BE GIVEN: that is, plainly and certainly, your proficiency in faith and virtue will depend upon the degree of attention ye pay to my word, and shall be proportioned to it; therefore it cannot be too strict and earnest. Nay, our Lord goes farther, and in his jealousy, as it were, for the honour of the word spoken, threatens the listless hearer, that he should not only not advance in religious qualifications, but that he should even lose those, which he already possessed. _For he that hath, to him shall be given_: AND HE THAT HATH NOT, FROM HIM SHALL BE TAKEN AWAY EVEN THAT HE HATH. And this dispensation of Providence, as severe as it may seem, is, I suppose, confirmed by too certain experience, and is analogous to the rest of God’s moral government.

It is no slight matter then, _how we hear_. And let no idle prejudices prevent or mislead us. The preacher of the Gospel may, on various pretences, be unacceptable to us. Still, the Gospel itself is not _his_, but God’s; to which no _circumstance_ should indispose us. Nay, in spite of this indisposition, the _preacher_, if we resolve to hear, may profit us. For it is not, I conceive, without example, that such as come to amuse themselves with a stated discourse, or perhaps to censure the discourser, have found their hearts touched by the quickening power of the word, and have returned with serious thoughts and better resolutions.

This, I say, is not too much to expect from the Gospel of Christ, and the grace which attends it, since we find it recorded of a _Pagan moralist_, that, when a young reveller came into his school, flushed with wine, and (as the custom of such was) crowned with flowers, and therefore in no disposition, we may presume, to profit by his instructions; the philosopher, however, chose his topics so well, and pressed them on his gay disciple with such effect, as to send him away in a graver mood, and without his garland[116]. But,

IV. The last and most important reason of all why we should give an attentive ear to the word of God, is, _That we shall finally be judged by it_.

If the Gospel had only proposed to instruct us in the knowledge of God, that so we might speculate more ably on divine subjects; or, at most, refer the knowledge we acquire to present use; though it could not be denied that such purpose was an important one, yet, if it went no further, we might, if we could allow ourselves in such imprudence, make light of this, as we do of so many other kinds of instruction. We should be ignorant, indeed, and unaccomplished in a very sublime science; but so we are of many others, and yet are contented to remain in that ignorance. We might conduct ourselves foolishly and perversely, and might suffer much inconvenience, and even misery, for want of acting on the principles of this science; but so we do, in many other instances, for want of acting on the maxims of art and prudence in the management of our common concerns, and yet we make a shift to satisfy ourselves with our condition. But if the Gospel follow us into another world; if this immortal volume must be laid open in the presence of men and angels, and our eternal doom pronounced out of it, though we would not obey, or so much as listen to its commands, when they were so earnestly, so repeatedly, in this life pressed upon us; if such be the effect of not _hearing_, how shall we excuse our indifference in this respect, or what can support us under the consciousness of it?

Hear then the awful sentence of Christ himself, denounced in that Gospel—_He that rejecteth me, and receiveth not my words, hath one that judgeth him_; THE WORD _that I have spoken, the same shall judge him at the last day_[117].

Go now, ye careless hearers, ye despisers of the WORD, and justify to yourselves, if ye can, your neglect and scorn of it!

When our Lord himself taught in the streets of Jerusalem, many a _supercilious_ Pharisee, we may suppose, passed by, without so much as stopping to hear what this divine teacher had to say to them: others, if they gave attention to his words, were only gratifying an idle, perhaps a malignant curiosity; they sought occasion from what he said to intrap him in his discourse, to accuse him to the rulers, or to vilify him in the eyes of the people. Again: when this same doctrine was taught by the Apostle Paul in another proud city, as proud of its philosophic schools, as Jerusalem was of its temple, many a contemptuous sophist, we may believe, disdained to listen, at all to the _foolishness of preaching_; and of those few who did, _some_, we know, _mocked_, while others negligently asked their companions, _What would this babbler say_? But how will both these be astonished in the last day to find themselves judged by that _word_ which they neglected, or contemned; by that word, which they would not _hear_, though it was brought home to their doors, or which they rejected with scorn, when they _did_ hear it!

Nor think, because neither Jesus nor Paul hath preached in person to us, that therefore our case is much different. Jesus and Paul still speak in the ministers of the word: or, what if the speakers be widely different, the _word_ is the same: _this treasure we_ still _have_, though _in earthen vessels_[118]. Nay, in one respect, our guilt exceeds theirs. The Pharisees and Philosophers were, alike, ignorant and unbelieving. We profess _to know_, and _to believe_.

Let US, then, _take heed what we hear_; lest our knowledge and belief add terrors to that day, when _the neglected word_ shall sit in judgment upon us.

SERMON XV.

PREACHED NOVEMBER 24, 1765.

ROM. xvi. 19.

_I would have you wise unto that which is good, and simple
concerning evil._

Our blessed Lord had given it in charge to his followers to be _wise as serpents, and harmless as doves_[119]. And the Apostle explains and enforces this command of his Master, when he enjoins us in the words of the text, To be _wise unto that which is good, and simple concerning evil_.

I confine myself, at present, to the former part of the text, and shall enquire into the properties or characters of CHRISTIAN WISDOM.

This wisdom consists in the prosecution of what the Scriptures declare to be the true _end_ of man, and by such _means_ as they prescribe to us.

That _end_ is the SALVATION of our souls; and the _means_, which lead to it, are FAITH and OBEDIENCE. Thus far there can be no mistake. The _wise Christian_ is he who is intent on securing his _eternal_ interest; and who, to that end, fortifies his mind with a firm belief of the _doctrines_, and conducts his life according to the _precepts_, of the Gospel.

I. But PERFECT WISDOM, which consists in a strict attention to these _several_ particulars, and according to the true worth of _each_, is rarely the lot of human nature. And there are _two_ ways, in which we are most apt to forfeit our pretensions to it. ONE is, when our minds, wholly taken up with the ultimate _object_ of their hopes, neglect the _means_ which are appointed to bring them to it: The OTHER, when we rest in the intervening _means_ themselves, without a due regard to that _final purpose_, for the sake of which they were appointed.

1. The FORMER of these defects we may observe in those persons who, from a too warm and enthusiastic turn of thought, are for subliming all piety into the trances of mystic contemplation; as if _morality_ and _faith_ scarce deserved their notice; and the _beatific vision_ were as well the _object_, as _end_ of the Christian life. Here the fault lies in an impatience to come at the _point_ we propose to ourselves, without observing the proper _methods_ which are to put us in possession of it; and is much the same phrenzy as we should charge on those _travellers_, who, being on their way towards a distant country, stop short in the contemplation of all the wonders they have heard reported of it, without pursuing their journey, or indeed without taking one step towards it.

2. The OTHER defect of wisdom is seen in those less sanguine, and, in truth, lukewarm Christians, who do not, indeed, altogether neglect the subservient duties of their profession, but, as not enough considering the _prize of their high calling_, grow remiss in the exercise of them: in which they too much resemble those _same travellers_; who, when taking the ordinary means of arriving at their journey’s end, fall into an idle way of loitering on the road, and use not that dispatch and diligence in their stages, which an earnest consideration of the _end_, they have in view, should naturally inspire.

II. But this duty of Christian wisdom is further violated, when, with a full respect to our final _hopes and expectations_, and a general intention to pursue them by the _means_ appointed in holy Scripture, we do not, however, observe the _due bounds and measures_ of each; that is, when, of the _two_ appointed means of salvation, _a pure faith_, and _right practice_, we chose to ourselves a favourite, and incline too much to _one_, at the expence of the _other_. For,

1. With regard to the distinct provinces of FAITH and MORALITY, we know there are those, who, provided they are but sound and orthodox in their opinions, that they give an entire assent to the several articles of their creed, and submit their faith to the entire direction of Scripture, or perhaps of the church with which they communicate, suppose the affair of _moral practice_ of much less importance; and conclude their devotion for this acceptable sacrifice of _a right faith_ will excuse their making somewhat too free with the article of _obedience_. Such persons there have been and still are in all churches; but we know _what_ sect of Christians is most deeply infected with this error.

2. On the contrary, they who have shaken off this bondage of superstition, and have observed the mischiefs which arise in abundance from this exclusive attachment to creeds and confessions, are very apt to run into the other extreme; and, because they find _morality_ to be of eternal obligation, make the less account of _faith_ and right opinion. As the former excess is the peculiar disgrace of _Popery_, this other has frequently been objected to _Protestantism_. _Both_ are manifest violations of _Christian wisdom_; which, besides that it commands an equal reverence for the two tables of the divine law, should further instruct us, _that as faith without works is vain_, so _good works_ themselves, unassisted and unsanctified by _faith_, are either not so perfect, or not so acceptable from us Christians, as otherwise they might be. Not to observe, that as the articles of our holy faith may be founded on _reasons_, which we do not know; so the belief or rejection of them may have _consequences_, which we cannot foresee.

III. And with this preparation, let us now descend to still more particular reflexions on the duty which lies upon us to approve our _wisdom_ in the _public profession_ of that faith, and the _manifestation_ of that practice. _Christian wisdom_ requires an attentive regard to the main _end_ we have in view, and to the _methods_ by which we are instructed to obtain it. But still there is great room for discretion to shew itself in the _management and pursuit_ of those methods. One _manner_ of doing the good, we are appointed to do, will be preferable to another. And it is a great part of Christian prudence to be ready and expert in discovering and acting upon that _preference_. This indeed is a large field; nor is it possible to enumerate all the cases which fall within this province of true wisdom. But to prescribe to _ourselves_ some plan, however defective, we may consider, that, if a constant regard be had to _ourselves_, to our _own character and circumstances_, our virtues will then be most GRACEFUL; if to the exigencies of the _times_ and _places_ in which we live, most SEASONABLE; and, lastly, if to the _persons_, _conditions_, and _characters_ of other men, they will thus become most ATTRACTIVE and EFFICACIOUS.

1. It was a point the masters of ancient wisdom took a singular pleasure to inculcate, and we find an equal stress laid upon it by the sacred writers, that a strict _decorum_ be observed in the exercise of our virtues; or, in other words, that the _good_ we do be that which is _fit_ and _decent_, considering our _circumstances and characters_. Thus we find one set of duties more especially recommended to the _young_, another to the _aged_; some to _private_ persons, others to such as are in _place and authority_. Different _professions_ in life have also different sets of offices belonging to them; or in such as are _common_ to all, propriety demands, that they be evidenced in very different _manners_. The virtues we expect in the _poor man_, are humility, industry, and resignation. These too are virtues, from the obligation of which no _rich man_ is exempted; but it would be strangely _misbecoming_, if _he_ did not surpass the _other_ in acts of charity and beneficence. And in respect of the same _common_ virtue, suppose _charity_, what the _one_ would very commendably discharge by little acts of service and assiduity towards his distressed neighbour, might require a very considerable expence of wealth or labour in the _other_. Nay, the several humours and dispositions of men will occasion a difference, if not in the _matter_ of their duty, yet in the _way_ in which it will become them to express it. An eminent moralist, indeed, carried this point of _decorum_ very far when he would justify so bad an action, as _suicide_, and which he owns he should have condemned in any other, from the singular turn of Cato’s temper and virtue[120]. But thus much may be said with great truth: that an action, good in itself, may come with a better grace from one man than another. A lesson of good advice, for instance, might be requisite from the liveliest man to his friend; but it would have additional weight and propriety from one of a graver disposition: and certainly what the _former_ could only hint with address, the _latter_ might be allowed to enforce with much earnestness and authority.

In short, if we study _ourselves_, and reflect what our _station_, _character_, or _nature_ is, we shall best discern what the virtues are, and in what manner to be expressed, which sit most properly and _gracefully_ upon us. And to give a diligent attention to these is no mean part of _moral wisdom_. But,

2. We must look beyond ourselves; we must consider what the condition of the _times_, what the state of the _places_ in which we live, may require of us. I do not mean that religion is a matter of _policy_; or that virtue is a mere _local_ consideration. But when the question is, how we may do the _most_ good by our religious or moral conduct, a prudent accommodation of ourselves to time and place will be very necessary[121]. The primitive Christians were not _wise unto that which is good_, when they provoked the cruelty of their enemies, and offered themselves without cause to the racks and fires of persecution. Nor would _they_ be less blameable, who, in a careless, prophane age, when _silence_ would be readily taken for _assent_: when, not to profess the faith would be construed to renounce it, should, from a too scrupulous fear of giving offence, forbear to make an open confession of their religion. The exigencies of _times_, we see, are very different. A wise man would have endeavoured to moderate the excessive zeal, which prevailed in the _former_ of these periods: he would apply himself to raise and quicken it, were he to find himself in the circumstances described in the _latter_. Or, to explain myself by a case which may still more nearly affect us. There was a _time_, when the religion of our country consisted too much in a zeal for unintelligible articles and superstitious ceremonies; when Popery had enslaved both mind and body, had bent the _one_ to an implicit acquiescence in the doctrines of the Church, and burthened the _other_ with a constant unprofitable exercise of its worship. How then was the _wisdom_ of a good man to express itself in these circumstances? In dispelling, it will surely be said, the gloom of superstition; in asserting the great privileges of natural reason, and in pressing the obligation and necessity of a good life, as of more worth than all ceremonial observances.

This _was_ the service rendered by the best men of those days to true Religion; and _we_ have reason to bless and revere their memories for it. But should the liberty into which we are called, degenerate into licentiousness; should it ever be common for men, in the fear of _believing_ too much, not to believe what the Scriptures themselves plainly require of them; and from the apprehension of relapsing into their old superstitious practices, to give little or no regard to the duties of external worship: should this at any time be the case, those truly wise men, who laboured so profitably to check the _other_ extreme, would certainly, in this different state of things, apply themselves with equal earnestness to correct _this_. Not that their former practice was not good in itself, but that, by a change in the disposition of the times, it was now become less _seasonable_.

3. We are, lastly, to have a regard to the _conditions_, _characters_, and _persons_ of those with whom we converse; this attention being especially requisite to render our virtues _attractive and efficacious_.

The philosopher that took upon him to discourse on the science of war, did not enough consider his own _character_. If he chose to do this in an age which wanted no such instructions, his conduct was certainly _unseasonable_. But when he presumed to instruct the greatest general and commander in the world, he deserved the censure which has disgraced him with all posterity[122]. A decorum like this is required in our attempts to promote truth and virtue. To dictate in such matters to persons wiser than ourselves, or to persons, who by their stations and characters should, in all reason, be supposed wiser, is a manifest indiscretion, and can never be attended with any good consequences. Were _we_ ever so able to instruct, or were _they_ ever so much in want of instruction, _prudence_ would suggest a very different conduct. It would recommend to us all the honest arts of insinuation and address; it would oblige us to watch the fittest seasons and opportunities; or, perhaps, to content ourselves with the silent admonition of a good example. Or, were there nothing in the _rank and condition_ of those we would work upon, to restrain us to this caution, we might even be required to shew a condescension to their very _prejudices and humours_. The errors of men may sometimes be removed by arguing with them on their own mistaken principles; by allowing all that truth and reason will warrant to their opinions; by putting the fairest construction upon their designs; by hinting objections to their wrong tenets, instead of fiercely declaiming against them; above all, by testifying a sincere disposition to advance truth and goodness, without any indirect views to our own interest. Or, were all other considerations out of the case, we could never be excused from proceeding in the way of gentleness and civility, from treating them with due respect, and expressing the sincerest good-will to their _persons_. Be their _moral_ or _religious_ defects what they will, we should hardly be _wise_; that is, we should take very improper methods of reclaiming them from _either_, if we reproved with bitterness, advised with insolence, or condemned with passion. In all addresses to mistaken or bad men, where our purpose is to inform or amend them, the gentlest _applications_ are surely the best, because _these_ excite no passion to counteract their _virtue_.

And now, at length, should it be asked who is that WISE CHRISTIAN whom the text designs and recommends to our imitation, we are able to furnish, at least, the outline of his character.

“HE is one who sets before him the great END and prize of his _high calling_; who, in his progress through the various stages of _this_ life, keeps in constant view the immortal happiness which his religion holds out in prospect to him in _another_: who, in humble adoration of his God and Saviour, is content to wait the appointed season which is to crown his hopes and expectations; and, for the present, is sollicitous to _work out his salvation with fear_ and reverence, by an earnest application of his time and pains to those _subservient duties_, which are to qualify him for the enjoyment of Heaven; who subjects all the towering conceits of his _understanding_, to the _doctrines_ of the Gospel, and the impetuous sallies of his _will_, to the _precepts_ of it; who makes no audacious separation of what the wisdom of God hath joined together; but, whilst he adores the mysteries of his holy FAITH, walks on in the plain and humble path of moral OBEDIENCE. He is _one_, who thinks it not enough to rest in the mere MATTER of his duty, but performs it in such a MANNER as will render it most exemplary and efficacious. He knows it to be a great precept of his religion, to see, _that his good be not evil spoken of_. He would not disgrace the _best_ cause in the world by the neglect of those decencies, which, as he observes, have sometimes the strange power to recommend the _worst_. The good he intends, therefore, is attempted in such a way, as is most BECOMING of himself; most SEASONABLE in respect of the opportunities which are offered to him; and most agreeable and PERSUASIVE to other men. In short, HE is one who, taking _Prudence_ for his guide, and _Innocence_ for his companion, thinks himself secure in these attendants; and therefore neglects no _decorum_, which the best philosophy prescribes; no _art_, which the soundest policy suggests; and no _address_, which the politest manners recommend: and so, in the high emphatic sense of the words, approves himself a WISE MAN; _wise unto that which is good_, to all purposes in _this_ world, as well as in a _better_.”

SERMON XVI.

PREACHED DECEMBER 1, 1765.

ROM. xvi. 19.

_I would have you wise unto that which is good, and simple concerning evil._

In considering the first part of this precept, I endeavoured to give some general description of Religious or CHRISTIAN WISDOM; both in respect of the END it has in view, and of the MEANS employed by it: I further exemplified some of those subordinate WAYS, in which the prudent application even of those _means_ is seen and expressed: And all this, for the sake of those sincere, but over-zealous persons, who are apt to think that _wisdom_ hath little to do in the prosecution of honest and upright purposes.

It now remains to treat that other part of the text, which requires us to be INNOCENT, as well as _wise_, to be SIMPLE CONCERNING EVIL. And this, perhaps, will be thought the more important branch of the subject. For, generally speaking, the ways of _wisdom_, when our purposes are the very best, are not only the most effectual, but the safest and most convenient. So that _prudence_ is likely to be a favourite virtue with us. But the case is different with regard to _simplicity concerning evil_; which is often found a hard and disagreeable injunction; as it may happen to cross our passions and the more immediate views of self-interest. So that this SIMPLICITY will sometimes seem, what the world is ready enough to call it, _folly_: and therefore, for the credit of our _sense_, as well as virtue, we should be well apprized of the worth and excellence of this Christian duty.

The virtue of SIMPLICITY consists, in general, in following the plain ingenuous sense of the mind; in taking our measures according to the dictates of conscience, and acting, on all occasions, without reserve, duplicity, or self-imposture, up to our notions of obligation. It is the office of WISDOM to see that our conscience be rightly informed: But our INTEGRITY is shewn in doing that which conscience, be it erroneously informed or no, requires of us. It consists, in a word, in whatever we understand by an _honesty of nature_; in observing, universally, that which we believe to be _right_, and avoiding what we know, or but suspect[123] to be _wrong_.

This _simplicity of mind_ may be almost said to be born with us. It is the bias of nature on our young minds; and our earliest instructions, as well as the first efforts of reason, strengthen and confirm it. But the impression lasts not long. We are scarcely entered into life, when we begin to treat it as one of _those childish things_, which it is beneath the dignity of our riper age to be amused with. The passions put forth and grow luxuriant; and why, we say to ourselves, should this tender apprehension of evil check their growth, and restrain their activity? We are now in the season of _pleasure_; and can there be any hurt in taking a little of it, out of that narrow path, which our early prejudices have prescribed to us?

Still, as we advance in years, fresh objects arise, and other passions engage us in the pursuit of them. Wealth and honour, or what we improperly call our _interests_, have now an ascendant over us; and the passion for each is rarely gratified but at the expence of some virtue. And thus it comes to pass, that, though we set out in the world with a warm sense of truth and honour, experience by degrees refines us out of these principles; and our hearts, instead of retaining that _infant_ purity, the grace and ornament of our nature, and which Christ so especially requires[124] in the professors of his religion, are all over stained with fraud, dissimulation, and disingenuity. We are even proud of the acquisition, and call it a _knowledge of life_: so dextrous are we in giving a good name to our worst qualities!

But effects follow their causes; and the vice we are now considering is not the less operative, nor the less hurtful, for the specious terms in which we dress it up, and present it to each other.

Of its malignity I shall give two or three instances; and, to fit them the better for use, they shall be taken from very different quarters; from the _cabinets of the wise, and the schools of the learned_, as well as from the _vulgar haunts of careless and licentious men_. We shall learn, perhaps, to reverence the Apostle’s advice, when we find that the neglect of it has DEGRADED RELIGION; RELAXED MORALITY, and POLLUTED COMMON LIFE.

To begin with an instance which shews how dangerous it is to depart from this _simplicity concerning evil_, in the great concerns of RELIGION.

I. When the priest, the sage, and the politician joined together in the days of heathenism to propagate among the people a superstition, which themselves condemned and detested; when they did their utmost to support a senseless, an immoral, an irreligious worship; when they strove, by every seducing artifice, to keep up that strong delusion, which God, in his just indignation, had sent among them, to believe a _lye_, (for such in its whole fabric and constitution was the old Pagan idolatry) when these men, who _knew the truth_, were yet contented _to hold it in unrighteousness_; they believed, no doubt, nay, they made no scruple to boast, that they had acted with consummate prudence; and that, in sacrificing the interests of religious truth (a small matter in their estimation) they had most effectually provided for the public interest. But what sentence does the Scripture pass on these men of ancient and renowned wisdom? Why this severe and mortifying one, That _professing themselves wise, they became fools_. And how well they deserved this censure, we understand from their own history; where we read, That Pagan idolatry, thus countenanced and supported, teemed with all the vices, of which our depraved nature is capable; and that the several contrivances of its wise advocates to keep an impious and barefaced falshood in credit, served only to produce, _first_, a SUSPICION, and in the _end_, an open and avowed CONTEMPT, of all Religion.

However, the ends of _divine wisdom_ were greatly promoted by this sad experience of _human folly_. For Christianity, which made its appearance at this juncture, found it an easier task to establish itself on the ruins of a fallen, or falling superstition. _Truth_, which had for so long a time been anxiously kept out of sight, was now the more welcome to those, who wished her appearance. And the detection of those prophane arts, which had been so manifestly employed in that service, disposed the most perverse or careless the more easily to reconcile themselves to her.

And it would have been happy if the sense of this advantage, which the _simplicity of truth_ obtained, in the first pages of the Gospel, over all the frauds of imposture, had prevented Christians from copying afterwards what they had so successfully contended against and exposed. Then had a great dishonour of the Christian name been avoided. But that _truth_, whose virtues are here magnified, must not be dissembled. The practice of _lying_ for the cause of God, too soon revived, and became too frequent in the Christian world. It is in vain to think of diverting your minds, more especially, from that great part of it, which has long since forgotten to be _simple concerning evil_. But true _wisdom will ever be justified of her children_. These dishonest arts, which could not support a bad cause, have been injurious and disgraceful to the _best_. They have corrupted the ingenuous spirit of the Gospel, they have adulterated the sincere word of God; and, in both ways, have produced innumerable mischiefs, in civil and religious life. They have helped to bring into discredit or disuse a true _Christian temper_; and have unhappily created in the minds of many an undeserved prejudice against the _Christian faith_.

II. But if these men have dishonoured _Religion_, others have defiled MORALITY; yet both assume to themselves the title of _wise_ men; and for that very reason, because they have departed as far as possible from the virtue of _simplicity_.

And here your indignation cannot but rise more especially against a set of men, who, applying the subtleties of school-philosophy to the plain science of Ethics, have made as free with the _precepts_ of the Gospel, as some others had done with its _doctrines_. These men, under the respectable name of CASUISTS, have presumed to wind up, or let down the obligation of moral duties to what pitch they please. Such as have taken the STRICTER side, deserve but small thanks for perplexing the minds of good men with needless scruples; and discouraging the rest with those austerities, which our Religion no where commands, and the condition of human life will not admit. But for that _looser_ sort, who by a thousand studied evasions, qualifications, and distinctions, dissolve the force of every moral precept; and, as the Pharisees of old, _make the word of God of none effect_ by their impious glosses, I know not what term of reproach you will think bitter enough for _them_. The sacred writers thought it sufficient to deliver the rules of life in _general_ terms[125]; leaving it, as they well might, to common sense and common honesty, to make the application of them to _particular_ cases, as they chanced to arise. But this officious sophistry intervening and perverting the ingenuous sense of the mind, instructs us how to transgress them all with impunity, and even innocence. By the help of this magic, we may extract the sting of guilt from every known sin; and, if we have but wit enough, may be as wicked as we please with a safe conscience.

If the features of this corrupt casuistry have not been overcharged; or, indeed, if there be any such thing in the world as a corrupt casuistry, it may concern us to reflect, that this pest of society could not have arisen but from a contempt of the Apostle’s rule, _of being simple concerning evil_.

III. Hitherto we have exemplified the breach of this rule in the _learned_, and the _wise_. And it may be thought that nothing but perverted science could qualify men for so prodigious a depravity. But there is a casuistry of _the heart_, as well as head; and we find by woeful experience, that men may refine themselves out of that _simplicity_ which the Gospel enjoins, without the assistance of _unblessed knowledge_.

For I come now, in the last place, to instance in the vulgar tribes of _libertine and careless men_. Of whom we may observe, that when indulged passion has taught them to make light of an honest mind; the consequence is, that they run into all excesses, and are rarely hindered from _working all uncleanness with greediness_. It is true, indeed, that no man becomes at once desperately and irretrievably wicked. But it is not less true, that when this great step is taken of prevaricating with a man’s own conscience, the other stages of iniquity are presently passed over. And how indeed can it be otherwise? So long as a man preserves the integrity of his natural disposition, there is always hope that, though particular passions may prevail for a time, reason and virtue will, in the end, regain their dominion over him. At least, he will be constantly checked and kept back in the career of his vices. But when this sincerity of heart is lost; when he confounds the differences of right and wrong, palliating the deformities of vice, or bestowing on vice itself the attractions of virtue; then all reasonable expectation of a return is cut off; since this perverted ingenuity tends to make him easy under his sins, and leaves him at leisure to pursue his evil courses with security.

We see then from the excesses into which these different sorts of men have been led, by the refinements of POLICY, of ABUSED SCIENCE, and DELUSIVE PASSION, how dangerous it is to bid adieu to that _simplicity concerning evil_, which the Holy Apostle requires of us.

It remains, that we cannot provide too cautiously against those evasive PLEAS AND PRETENCES, which would incline us to part with it.

These PRETENCES are infinite: for, when the _heart_ is corrupted, the _understanding_ is ready to pander to every lust that importunes it. But we may know the principal of them by these signs. To be _simple concerning evil_ is the easiest thing in the world; but we may suspect that something _wrong_ is ready to intrude itself, “WHEN we cast about for excuses to cover the nakedness of ingenuity; when we are driven to distinctions and far-fetched reasoning for our justification; when we pause a moment between the clear conviction of duty, on one hand, and any indirect views on the other; more _particularly_, WHEN we find the tone of our virtue relax at the consideration of what we may chance to lose by adhering to it; when we but suspect, that a severe unqualifying virtue looks like inhumanity; when we think our dependencies and connexions in life have a demand upon conscience; when we lament with the politician, that _good men are impracticable_, and so, from a principle of public spirit, resolve not to encounter that prejudice: Above all, when we go about to regulate morality by what _a knowledge of the world_ teaches; when _custom_ is pleaded in opposition to _duty_, and vice itself authorized by _fashion_[126]; when we acknowledge what we do is in itself not justifiable, but excuse it by a pretence of the good ends we hope to serve by it; when we are willing to plead the infirmity of nature, the power of temptation, the prevalence of example; when we venture too securely on the confines of immorality, and are curious to know how near we may go to vice, without being directly vicious.”

These, and such as these, are the dangerous insinuations which attempt our virtue. And how, you will ask, shall we secure ourselves from them? By reason and argument? By speculation and philosophy? Shall we stay to examine their several pretences, call these delusive pleas to account, and shew we can confute them all, before we reject them?

Alas, I dare not advise this method; which besides its other inconveniencies, is not, I doubt, a very safe one. Our heads may be unequal to the task; or, which is worse, our hearts may betray us. At the best, we shall waste much time in these ingenious inquiries, when the business of life demands an immediate determination. St. Paul has shewn us a shorter and _more excellent way_, when he bids us, _Be simple concerning evil_. In virtue of this sacred admonition, a wise man will think it sufficient to dismiss these vain insinuations at once, without so much as spending a thought upon them. “What,” he will say to himself, “if I cannot detect the falsehood of these pleas, I have a _heart_, that revolts against them. I cannot, perhaps, disentangle the sophistry of these arguments; but I _feel_ the baseness of the conclusion, and I _see_ in others the folly of acting upon it. It were ill with _vice_ indeed, if it had no false colours to appear in; and _error_ would be hooted out of the world, if she did not hide her obliquities under the garb of reason. But what are these disguises to me, who am neither dazzled by the one, nor duped by the other? Let the curious, if they will, inquire, wherein the imposture consists: I have that within me, which tells me in a moment, they are but impostures. In vain then, will such a one conclude, are these insidious attempts on me, who take a sure refuge in the word of God, and the integrity of my own virtue. Be the pretences what they will, the confutation of them is no part of a Christian’s care. I may exercise my understanding profitably in other matters. It is my duty to consider much of the ways of _doing good_. I may be prudent and WISE here. But, EXPERIENCE, and CONSCIENCE, and RELIGION, command me to be, SIMPLE CONCERNING EVIL.”

SERMON XVII.

PREACHED NOVEMBER 22, 1772.

JOHN v. 44.

_How can ye believe, which receive honour one of another, and seek
not the honour that cometh of God only?_

It has been thought unfair to charge unbelief, simply and indiscriminately, on the grosser passions. The observation, I believe, is just: and yet it may be true, notwithstanding, that unbelief is always owing to _some or other_ of the passions. The evidences of revealed religion are so numerous, and upon the whole so convincing, that one cannot easily conceive how a reasonable man should reject them all, without the intervention of some secret prejudice, or predominant affection.

Of these _prejudices and affections_, one of the commonest, and the most seducing of any to the better sort of unbelievers, is that irregular love of _praise and reputation_, which our Lord condemns in the text—_How can ye believe, which receive honour one of another, and seek not the honour that cometh from God only?_

The question, we may observe, is so expressed, as if we _could not_ receive honour from one another, and believe, at the same time; as if there was a physical, at least a moral impossibility, that these two things should subsist together. And we shall find, perhaps, the expression no stronger than the occasion required, if, besides other considerations, we attend to the following; which shew how inconsistent a true practical faith in the Gospel is with the sollicitous and undistinguishing pursuit of human glory.

For, I. _The Gospel_ delivers many of its doctrines as inscrutable, and silences the busy curiosity of our understandings about them: but the _honour of men_ is frequently obtained by indulging this curiosity, and pushing the researches of reason into those forbidden quarters.

II. _The Gospel_ demands an humble and reverential awe in the discussion of all its doctrines; such of them, I mean, as it leaves most free to human inquiry: but this turn of mind is contrary to that high courage and daring intrepidity, which the _world_ expects in those who are candidates for its honour.

III. _The Gospel_ prescribes an uniform and unqualified assent to whatever it declares of divine things, whether we can or cannot apprehend the reason of such declaration: but this submission to authority, the _world_ is ready to call ill-faith, and to consider the defiance of it, as a mark of superior honesty and virtue.

Thus we see, that WIT, COURAGE, and PROBITY, the three great qualities we most respect in ourselves, and for which we receive the highest honour from each other, appear many times to the world with less advantage in the Christian, than the unbeliever. Not, that Christianity strips us of these virtues: on the other hand, it requires and promotes them all, in the proper sense of the words; and they may really subsist in a higher degree in the _believer_, than any other: but they will often seem to be more triumphantly displayed by those who give themselves leave to _disbelieve_; and the prospect of honour, which that opinion opens to such men, is one of the commonest sources from which they derive their infidelity.

But to make good this charge against the unbelieving world, and to lay open the mysteries of that insidious self-love, which prompts them to aspire to _fame_, by the means of infidelity, it will be necessary to resume the THREE TOPICS before mentioned, and to enlarge something upon each of them.