II. self; to look every man, not on his own things SERMON only, but on those of others also; to be pitiful, to be courteous, to be tender-hearted; to bear one another's burdens, and so to fulfil the law of Christ *. The dispositions opposite to sensibility are cruelty, hardness of heart, contracted attachment to worldly interests; which every one will admit to be directly opposite to the Christian character. According to the different degrees of constitutional warmth in men's affections, sensibility may, even among the virtuous, prevail in different proportions. For all derive not from nature the same happy delicacy, and tenderness of feeling. With some, the heart melts, and relents, in kind emotion, much more easily than with others. But with every one who aspires at the character of a good man, it is necessary that the humane and compassionate dispositions should be found. There must be that within him which shall form him to feel in some degree with the heart of a brother; and when he beholds others enjoying happiness, or sees them sunk in sorrow, shall bring his af * Luke, x. 27; Philip. ii. 4; 1 Peter, iii. 8; Ephes. iv. 23; Galat. vi. 2. fections SERMON fections to accord, and if we may speak so, II. to sound a note unison to theirs. This is to rejoice with them that rejoice, and to weep with them that weep. How much this temper belongs to the perfection of our nature, we learn from one who exhibited that perfection in its highest degree. When our Lord Jesus, on a certain occasion, came to the grave of a beloved friend, and saw his relations mourning around it, he presently caught the impression of their sorrow; he groaned in spirit, and was troubled. He knew that he was about to remove the cause of their distress, by recalling Lazarus to life; yet, in the moment of grief, his heart sympathised with theirs ; and, together with the weeping friends, Jesus wept *. LET us next proceed to consider the effect of this virtuous sensibility on our character and our state. I shall consider it in two views; its influence on our moral conduct, and its influence on our happiness. FIRST, It powerfully influences the proper discharge of all the relative and social * John, ii. 35. II. duties of life. Without some discharge of SERMON those duties there could be no comfort or security in human society. Men would become hordes of savages, perpetually harassing one another. In one way or other, therefore, the great duties of social life must be performed. There must be among man kind some reciprocal co-operation and aid. In this, all consent. But let us observe, that these duties may be performed from different principles, and in different ways. Sometimes they are performed merely from decency and regard to character; sometimes from fear, and even from selfishness, which obliges men to shew kindness, in order that they may receive returns of it. In such cases, the exterior of fair behaviour may be preserved. But all will admit, that when from constraint only, the offices of seeming kindness are performed, little dependance can be placed on them, and little value allowed to them. By others, these offices are discharged solely from a principle of duty. They are men of cold affections, and perhaps of an interested character. But, overawed by a sense of religion, and convinced that they are SERMON are bound to be beneficent, they fulfil the II. course of relative duties with regular tenor. Such men act from conscience and principle. So far they do well, and are worthy of praise. They assist their friends; they give to the poor; they do justice to all. But what a different complexion is given to the same actions, how much higher flavour do they acquire, when they flow from the sensibility of a feeling heart? If one be not moved by affection, even supposing him influenced by principle, he will go no further than strict principle appears to require. He will advance slowly and reluctantly. As it is justice, not generosity, which impels him, he will often feel as a task what he is required by conscience to perform. Whereas to him, who is prompted by virtuous sensibility, every office of beneficence and humanity is a pleasure. He gives, assists, and relieves, not merely because he is bound to do so, but because it would be painful for him to refrain. Hence the smallest benefit he confers rises in its value, on account of its carrying the affection of the giver impressed upon the gift. It speaks his heart, and the discovery II. discovery of the heart is very frequently of SERMON greater consequence than all that liberality can bestow. How often will the affectionate smile of approbation gladden the humble, and raise the dejected? How often will the look of tender sympathy, or the tear that involuntarily falls, impart consolation to the unhappy? By means of this correspondence of hearts, all the great duties which we owe to one another are both performed to more advantage, and endeared in the performance. From true sensibility flow a thousand good offices, apparently small in themselves, but of high importance to the felicity of others; offices which altogether escape the observation of the cold and unfeeling, who, by the hardness of their manner, render themselves unamiable, even when they mean to do good. How happy then would it be for mankind, if this affectionate disposition prevailed more generally in the world! How much would the sum of public virtue and public felicity be increased, if men were always inclined to rejoice with them that rejoice, and to weep with them that weep. BUT, |