thoughts," is a true description of a complete | so with thanksgiving. It will be the same likedereliction of religious principle; but it can, by no possibility, be the case with a man, who has the spirit of devotion, or any portion of that spirit, within him. But it is not in our private religion alone, that the effect and benefit of this principle is perceived. The true taste and relish we so much dwell upon, will bring a man to the public worship of God; and, what is more, will bring him in such a frame of mind as to enable him to join in it with effect; with effect as to his own soul; with effect as to every object, both public and private, intended by public worship. Wanderings and forgetfulness, remissions and intermissions of attention, there will be; but these will be fewer and shorter, in proportion as more of this spirit is prevalent within us; and some sincere, some hearty, some deep, some true, and, as we trust, acceptable service will be performed, before we leave the place; some pouring forth of the soul unto God in prayer and in thanksgiving; in prayer, excited by wants and weaknesses; I fear also, by sins and neglects without number; and in thanksgivings, such as mercies, the most undeserved, ought to call forth from a heart, filled, as the heart of man should be, with a thorough consciousness of dependency and obligation. wise with every other part of divine worship. The confession of sins in our liturgy, and perhaps in all liturgics, is general; but our sins, alas! are particular: our conscience not only acknowledges a deplorable weakness and imperfection in the discharge of our duty, but is stung also with remembrances and compunctions, excited by particular offences. When we come, therefore, to confess our sins, let memory do its office faithfully. Let these sins rise up before our eyes. All language is imperfect. Forms, intended for general use, must consist of general terms, and are so far inadequate. They may be rehearsed by the lips with very little of application to our own case. But this will never be so, if the spirit of devotion be within us. A devout mind is exceedingly stirred, when it has sins to confess. None but a hardened sinner can even think of his sins without pain. But when he is to lay them, with supplications for pardon, before his Maker; when he is to expose his heart to God; it will always be with powerful inward feelings of guilt and calamity. It hath been well said of prayer, that prayer will either make a man leave off sinning, or sin will make him leave off prayer. And the same is true of confession. If confession be sincere, if it be such as a right capacity for devotion will make Forms of public worship must, by their very it to be, it will call up our proper and particular nature, be in a great degree general; that is, must sins so distinctly to our view, their guilt, their be calculated for the average condition of human danger, their end; whither they are carrying us; and of Christian life; but it is one property of the in what they will conclude; that, if we can return devotional spirit, which we speak of, to give a to them again without molestation from our conparticularity to our worship, though it be carried science, then religion is not within us. If we on in a congregation of fellow Christians, and ex- have approached God in his worship so ineffectupressed in terms which were framed and conceiv-ally as to ourselves, it is because we have not wored for the use of all. And it does this by calling up recollections which will apply most closely, and bring home most nearly to ourselves, those terms and those expressions. For instance, in What we have said concerning thanksgiving public worship, we thank God in general terms, and confession, is likewise true of prayer univerthat is, we join with the congregation in a general sally. The spirit of devotion will apply our prayers thanksgiving; but a devout man brings to church to our wants. In forms of worship, be they ever the recollection of special and particular mercies, so well composed, it is impossible to exhibit human particular bounties, particular providences, par- wants, otherwise than in general expressions. ticular deliverances, particular relief recently ex-But devotion will apply them. It will teach every perienced, specially and critically granted in the moment of want or danger, or eminently and supereminently vouchsafed to us individually. These he bears in his thoughts; he applies as he proceeds; that which was general, he makes close and circumstantial; his heart rises towards God, by a sense of mercies vouchsafed to himself. He does not, however, confine himself to those favours of Providence, which he enjoys above many others, or more than most others; he does not dwell upon distinctions alone; he sees God in all his goodness, in all his bounty. Bodily case, for instance, is not less valuable, not less a mercy, because others are at ease, as well as himself. The same of his health, the use of his limbs, the faculties of his understanding. But what I mean is, that, in his mind, he brings to church mercies, in which he is interested, and that the most general expressions of thankfulness attach with him upon particular recollections of goodness, particular subjects of gratitude; so that the holy fervour of his devotion is supported; never wants, nor can want, materials to act upon. It is the office, therefore, of an internal spirit of devotion to make worship personal. We have seen that it will be shipped him in spirit; we may say of all we have done, "we drew near him with our lips, but our hearts were far from him." man, in the first place, to know how indigent, I assign, therefore, as the first effect of a right spirit of devotion, that it gives particularity to all our worship. It applies, and it appropriates. Forms of worship may be general, but a spirit of devotion brings them home and close to each and every one. 533 our Lord justly notices the absurdity,) that they should really be heard for their much speaking. Actuated by the spirit of devotion, we can never offend in this way, we can never be the object of this censure. One happy consequence of which is, that it the spirit of devotion will cause our prayers to Lastly, and what has already been intimated, prevents the tediousness of worship. Things have an effect upon our practice. For example; which interest us, are not tedious. If we find wor- if we repeated the confession in our liturgy with a ship tedious, it is because it does not interest us as true penitential sense of guilt upon our souls, we it ought to do. We must allow (experience com- should not, day after day, be acknowledging to pels us to allow) for wanderings and inattentions, God our transgressions and neglects, and yet go as amongst the infirmities of our infirm nature. But, as I have already said, even these will be vouring to make them less and fewer. We should on exactly in the same manner without endeafewer and shorter, in proportion as we are pos- plainly perceive that this was doing nothing tosessed of the spirit of devotion. Weariness will wards salvation; and that, at this rate, we may not be perceived, by reason of that succession of be sinning and confessing all our lives. Whereas, devout feelings and consciousnesses which the several offices of worship are calculated to excite. thoughtfulness of soul, within us at the time, this was the right spirit of confessional piety, viz. If our heart be in the business, it will not be tedi- would be the certain benefit, especially in the case ous. If, in thanksgiving, it be lifted up by a sense of an often-repeated sin, that the mind would beof mercies, and a knowledge from whom they pro- come more and more concerned, more and more ceed, thanksgiving will be a grateful exercise, and filled with compunction and remorse, so as to be not a tedious form. What relates to our sins and forced into amendment. Even the most heart-felt wants, though not of the same gratifying nature, confession might not immediately do for us all though accompanied with deep, nay, with afflict- that we could wish: yet by perseverance in the ing cause of humiliation and fear, must, neverthe-same, it would certainly, in a short time, produce less, be equally interesting, or more so, because it its desired effect. For the same reason, we should is of equal concernment to us, or of greater. In not, time after time, pray that we might thenceneither case, therefore, if our duty be performed forward, viz. after each time of so praying, lead as it ought to be, will tediousness be perceived. as usual, in ungodliness, unrighteousness, and ingodly, righteous, and sober lives, yet persist, just temperance. The thing would be impossible, if fulness of heart accompanied our thanksgirings, we prayed as we ought. So likewise, if real thankwe should not pray in vain, that we might show forth the praises of God, not only with our lips but in our lives. As it is, thousands repeat these words without doing a single deed for the sake of pleasing God, exclusive of other motives, or refraining from a single thing they like to do out of we hear the third service at church, we pray that the fear of displeasing him. So again, every time God would incline our hearts to keep his commandments; yet immediately, perhaps, afterwards, allow our hearts and inclinations to wander, without controul, to whatever sinful temptation entices them. This, I say, all proceeds from the want of earnestness in our devotions. Strong devotion is an antidote against sin. I say, that the spirit of devotion removes from the worship of God the perception of tediousness, and with that also every disposition to censure or cavil at particular phrases, or expressions used in public worship. All such faults, even if they be real, and such observations upon them, are absorbed by the immense importance of the business in which we are engaged. Quickness in discovering blemishes of this sort is not the gift of a pious mind; still less either levity or acrimony in speaking of them. Moreover, the spirit of devotion reconciles us to repetitions. In other subjects, repetition soon becomes tiresome and offensive. In devotion it is different. Deep, earnest, heartfelt devotion, naturally vents itself in repetition. Observe a person racked by excruciating bodily pain; or a person suddenly struck with the news of some dreadful calamity; or a person labouring under some cutting anguish of soul; and you will always find him breaking out into ejaculations, imploring from greatest blessings; and, by consequence, the want To conclude; a spirit of devotion is one of the God support, mercy, and relief, over and over again, of it one of the greatest misfortunes, which a uttering the same prayer in the same words. No- Christian can experience. When it is present, it thing, he finds, suits so well the extremity of his gives life to every act of worship which we persufferings, the urgency of his wants, as a con- form; it makes every such act interesting and tinual recurrence to the same cries, and the same comfortable to ourselves. It is felt in our most call for divine aid. Our Lord himself, in his last retired moments, in our beds, our closets, our rides, agony, affords a high example of what we are saying: thrice he besought his heavenly Father; assembled with our children and servants in faour walks. It is stirred within us, when we are and thrice he used the same words. Repetition, mily prayer. It leads us to church, to the congretherefore, is not only tolerable in devotion, but it gation of our fellow Christians there collected; it is natural: it is even dictated by a sense of suffer- accompanies us in our joint offices of religion in ing, and an acuteness of feeling. It is coldness of an especial manner; and it returns us to our affection, which requires to be enticed and grati- homes holier, and happier, and better; and lastly, fied by continual novelty of idea, or expression, or what greatly enhances its value to every anxious action. The repetitions and prolixity of phari-Christian, it affords to himself a proof that his saical prayers, which our Lord censures, are to be understood of those prayers which run out into mere formality and into great length; no sentiment or affection of the heart accompanying them; but uttered as a task, from an opinion (of which heart is right towards God: when it is followed SERMON III. THE LOVE OF GOD. We love him, because he first loved us. 1 John iv. 19. stant referring of our enjoyments and our hopes to his goodness. This is in a great degree a matter of habit; and, like all good habits, particularly mental habits, is what every person must form in himself and for himself by endeavour and perseverance. In this great article, as well as in others which are less, every man must be the author to himself of his train of thinking, be it good or bad. I shall only observe, that when this habit, or, as some would call it, this turn and course of thought, is once happily generated, occasions will continu ally arise to minister to its exercise and augmentation. A night's rest, or a comfortable meal, will immediately direct our gratitude to God. The use of our limbs, the possession of our senses; every degree of health, every hour of ease, every sort of satisfaction, which we enjoy, will carry our thoughts to the same object. But if our enjoyments raise our affections, still more will our hopes do the same; and, most of all beyond comparison, man, and think of heaven; think what he is, and what it is in his power hereafter to become. Think of this again and again: and it is impossible, but that the prospect of being so rewarded for our poor labours, so resting from our past troubles, so forgiven for our repented sins, must fill our hearts with the deepest thankfulness; and thankfulness love. Towards the author of an obligation which is infinite, thankfulness is the only species of love that can exist. RELICION may, and it can hardly, I think, be questioned but that it sometimes does, spring from terror, from grief, from pain, from punishment, from the approach of death; and provided it be sincere, that is, such as either actually produces, or as would produce a change of life, it is genuine religion, notwithstanding the bitterness, the violence, or, if it must be so called, the baseness and unworthiness, of the motive from which it proceeds. We are not to narrow the promises of God; and acceptance is promised to sincere penitence, without specifying the cause from which it originates, or confining it to one origin more than another. There are, however, higher, and wor-those hopes which religion inspires. Think of thier, and better motives, from which religion may begin in the heart; and on this account especially are they to be deemed better motives, that the religion which issues from them has a greater probability of being sincere. I repeat again, that sincere religion, from any motive, will be effectual; but there is a great deal of difference in the probability of its being sincere, according to the different cause in the mind from which it sets out. But, moreover, the love of God is specifically represented in Scripture as one of the gifts of the Holy Ghost. The love of God shed abroad in the heart is described as one of the works of the Spirit upon the souls of Christians. Now whatever is represented in Scripture to be the gift of the Spirit, is to be sought for by earnest and peculiar prayer. That is the practical use to be made of, and the practical consequence to be drawn from, such representations; the very purpose probably for which they were delivered: the mere point of doctrine being seldom that in which Scripture declarations rest. Let us not fail therefore; let us not cease to entreat the Father of mercies, that the love of him may be shed abroad in our hearts continually. It is one of the things in which we are sure that our prayers are right in their object; in which also we may humbly hope, that, unless obstructed by ourselves, they will not be in vain. The purest motive of human action is the love of God. There may be motives stronger and more general, but none so pure. The religion, the virtue, which owes its birth in the soul to this motive, is always genuine religion, always true virtue. Indeed, speaking of religion, I should call the love of God not so much the ground-work of religion, as religion itself. So far as religion is disposition, it is religion itself. But though of religion it be more than the ground-work, yet, being a disposition of mind, like other dispositions, it is the ground-work of action. Well might our blessed Saviour preach up, as he did, the love of God. It is the source of every thing which is good in man. I do not mean that it is the only source, or that goodness can proceed from no other, but that of all principles of conduct it is the safest, the best, the truest, the highest. Perhaps it is peculiar to the Jewish and Christian dispensations (and, if it be, it is a peculiar excellency in them) to have for mally and solemnly laid down this principle, as a ground of human action. I shall not deny, that Nor let it be said that this aid is superfluous, elevated notions were entertained of the Deity by forasmuch as nature herself had provided suffisome wise and excellent heathens; but even these cient means for exciting this sentiment. This is did not, that I can find, so inculcate the love of true with respect to those who are in the full, or that Deity, or so propose and state it to their fol- in any thing near the full, enjoyment of the gifts lowers, as to make it a governing, actuating prin- of nature. With them I do allow that nothing ciple of life amongst them. This did Moses, or but a criminal stupefaction can hinder the love of rather God by the mouth of Moses, expressly, God from being felt. But this is not the case with formally, solemnly. This did Christ, adopting, all; nor with any at all times. Afflictions, sickrepeating, ratifying, what the law had already de-ness, poverty, the maladies and misfortunes of life, clared; and not only ratifying, but singling it out from the body of precepts which composed the old institution, and giving it a pre-eminence to every other. will interrupt and damp this sensation, so far as it depends upon our actual experience of God's bounty. I do not say that the evils of life ought to have this effect: taken in connexion with a fuNow this love, so important to our religious ture state, they certainly ought not; because, when character, and, by its effect upon that, to our sal- viewed in that relation, afflictions and calamities vation, which is the end of religion; this love, I become trials, warnings, chastisements; and when say, is to be engendered in the soul, not so much sanctified by their fruits, when made the means by hearing the words of others, or by instruction of weaning us from the world, bringing us nearer from others, as by a secret and habitual contem-to God, and of purging away that dross and defileplation of God Almighty's bounty, and by a con- ment which our souls have contracted, are in truth amongst the first of favours and of blessings: ne- | namely, humanity of temper subsisting along with vertheless, as an apostle himself confesses, they the most criminal licentiousness, and under a total are for a season grievous; they are disheartening; want of personal self-government. The reason is, and they are too apt to produce an unfavourable that the principle of conduct, though excellent as effect upon our gratitude. Wherefore it is upon far as it goes, fails in comprehensiveness. Not so these occasions most especially, that the aid of with the love of God. He, who is influenced by God's Spirit may be required to maintain in our that, feels its influence in all parts of duty, upon souls the love of God. every occasion of action, throughout the whole Let those, therefore, who are conscious to them-course of conduct. selves that they have not the love of God within them as they ought to have it, endeavour to acquire and to increase this holy principle by seriousness of mind, by habitual meditation, by devout reading, devout conversation, devout society. These are all aids and helps towards inducing upon the mind this most desirable, nay, rather let me call it, this blessed frame and temper, and of fixing us in it: and forasmuch as it is declared in Scripture to be shed abroad in the heart by the Spirit of God, let us labour in our prayers for this best gift. The thing with most of us to be examined into and ascertained is, whether it indeed guide us at all; whether it be within us an efficient motive. I am far from taking upon me to say that it is essential to this principle to exclude all other principles of conduct especially the dread of God's wrath and of its tremendous consequences: or that a person, who is deterred from evil actions by the dread of God's wrath, is obliged to conclude, that because he so much dreads God, he cannot love him. I will not venture to say any such thing. The Scripture, it is true, speaking of the love of God, The next consideration upon the subject is the hath said, that "perfect love casteth out fear;" but fruit and effect of this disposition upon our lives. it hath not said that in the soul of man this love is If it be asked how does the love of God operate ever perfect: what the Scripture hath thus dein the production of virtuous conduct, I shall an-clared of perfect love is no more than what is just. swer, that it operates exactly in the same manner as affection towards a parent or gratitude towards a human benefactor operates, by stirring up a strong rebuke in the mind upon the thought of offending him. This lays a constant check upon our conduct. And this sensation is the necessary accompaniment of love; it cannot, I think, be separated from it. But it is not the whole of its influence. Love and gratitude towards a benefactor not only fill us with remorse and with internal shame, whenever, by our wilful misbehaviour, we have given cause to that benefactor to be displeased with us; but also prompts us with a desire upon all occasions of doing what we believe he wills to be done, which, with respect to God, is in other words a desire to serve him. Now this is not only a restraint from vice, but an incitement to action. Instructed, as in Christian countries mankind generally are, in the main articles of human duty, this motive will seldom mislead them. In one important respect the love of God excels all moral principles whatever; and that is, in its comprehensiveness. It reaches every action; it includes every duty. You cannot mention another moral principle which has this property in the same perfection. For instance, I can hardly name a better moral principle than humanity. It is a principle which every one commends, and justly: yet in this very article of comprehensiveness it is deficient, when compared with the love of God. It will prompt us undoubtedly to do kind, and generous, and compassionate things towards our friends, our acquaintance, our neighbours, and towards the poor. In our relation to, and in our intercourse with, mankind, especially towards those who are dependent upon us, or over whom we have power, it will keep us from hardness, and rigour, and cruelty. In all this it is excellent. But it will not regulate us, as we require to be regulated, in another great branch of Christian duty, self-government and self-restraint. We may be exceedingly immoral and licentious in sinful indulgences, without violating our principle of humanity; at least, without specifically violating it, and without being sensible of violating it. And this is by no means an uncommon case or character, The love of God, were it perfect, that is to say, were it such as his nature, his relation, his bounty to us deserves; were it adequate either to its object or to our obligation, were it carried up as high as in a perfectly rational and virtuous soul it might be carried, would, I believe, absorb every other motive and every other principle of action whatever, even the fear of God amongst the rest. This principle, by its nature, might gain a complete possession of the heart and will, so that a person acting under its influence would take nothing else into the account, would reflect upon no other consequence or consideration whatever. Possibly, nay probably, this is the condition of some higher orders of spirits, and may become ours by future improvement, and in a more exalted state of existence; but it cannot, I am afraid, be said to be our condition now. The love of God subsists in the heart of good men as a powerful principle of action: but it subsists there in conjunction with other principles, especially with the fear of him. All goodness is in a certain degree comparative; and I think, that he may be called a good man in whom this principle dwells and operates at all. Wherefore to obtain; when obtained, to cultivate, to cherish, to strengthen, to improve it, ought to form the most anxious concern of our spiritual life. He that loveth God keepeth his commandments; but still the love of God is something more than keeping the commandments. For which reason we must acquire, what many, it is to be feared, have even yet to begin, a habit of contemplating God in the bounties and blessings of his creation. I think that religion can hardly subsist in the soul without this habit in some degree. But the greater part of us, such is the natural dulness of our souls, require something more exciting and stimulating than the sensations which large and general views of nature or of providence produce; something more particular to ourselves, and which more nearly touches our separate happiness. Now of examples of this kind, namely, of direct and special mercies towards himself, no one, who calls to mind the passages and providences of his life, can be destitute. There is one topic of gratitude falling under this head, which almost every man, SERMON IV. MEDITATING UPON RELIGION, Have I not remembered thee in my bed: and thought upon thee when I was waking?— Psalm lxiii. 7. THE life of God in the soul of man, as it is sometimes emphatically called, the Christian ine, that is, or the progress of Christianity in the heart of any particular person, is marked, amongst other things, by religion gradually gaining possession of the thoughts. It has been said, that, if we thought about religion as it deserved, we should never think about any thing else; nor with strictness, perhaps, can we deny the truth of this proposition. Religious concerns do so surpass and outweigh in who is tolerably faithful and exact in his self-recollections, will find in events upon which he has to look back; and it is this: How often have we been spared, when we might have been overtaken and cut off in the midst of sin! Of all the attributes of God, forbearance, perhaps, is that which we have most to acknowledge. We cannot want occasions to bring the remembrance of it to our thoughts. Have there not been occasions, in which, ensnared in vice, we might have been detected and exposed; have been crushed by punishment or shame, have been irrecoverably ruined? occasions in which we might have been suddenly stricken with death, in a state of soul the most unfit for it that was possible! That we were none of these, that we have been preserved from these dangers, that our sin was not our destruc tion, that instant judgment did not overtake us, is to be attributed to the long-suffering of God. Sup-value and importance all concerns beside, that did posing, what is undoubtedly true, that the secrets they occupy a place in our minds proportioned to of our conduct were known to him at the time, it that importance, they would, in truth, exclude can be attributed to no other cause. Now this is every other but themselves. I am not, therefore, a topic which can never fail to supply subjects of one of those who wonder when I see a man enthankfulness, and of a species of thankfulness, grossed with religion: the wonder with me is, which must bear with direct force upon the regu that men care and think so little concerning it lation of our conduct. We were not destroyed With all the allowances which must be made for when we might have been destroyed, and when our employments, our activities, our anxieties, we merited destruction. We have been preserved about the interests and occurrences of the present for further trial. This is, or ought to be a touch-life, it is still true, that our forgetfulness, and neging reflection. How deeply, therefore, does it be-ligence, and indifference about religion are much hove us not to trifle with the patience of God, not greater than can be excused, or can easily be acto abuse this enlarged space, this respited, pro- counted for by these causes. Few men are so tracted season of repentance, by plunging afresh busy but that they contrive to find time for any into the same crimes, or other, or greater crimes? gratification their heart is set upon, and thought It shows that we are not to be wrought upon by for any subject in which they are interested: they mercy that our gratitude is not moved; that want not leisure for these, though they want ki things are wrong within us; that there is a de- sure for religion. Notwithstanding, therefore, sinplorable void and chasm in our religious prin-gular cases, if indeed there be any cases of being ciples, the love of God not being present in our hearts. But to return to that with which we set out: religion may spring from various principles, begin in various motives. It is not for us to narrow the promises of God which belong to sincere religion, from whatever cause it originates. But of these principles, the purest, the surest, is the love of God, forasmuch as the religion which proceeds from it is sincere, constant, and universal. It will not, like fits of terror and alarm (which yet we do not despise) produce a temporary religion. The love of God is an abiding principle. It will not, like some other, (and these also good and laudable principles of action, as far as they go,) produce a partial religion. It is co-extensive with all our obligations. Practical Christianity may be comprised in three words; devotion, self-government, and benevolence. The love of God in the heart is a fountain, from which these three streams of virtue will not fail to issue. The love of God also is a guard against error in conduct, because it is a guard against those evil influences which mislead the understanding in moral questions. In some measure, supplies the place of every rule. He who has it truly within him, has little to learn. Look steadfastly to the will of God, which he who loves God necessarily does, practise what you be lieve to be well pleasing to him, leave off what you believe to be displeasing to him: cherish, confirm, strengthen the principle itself which sustains this course of external conduct, and you will not want many lessons, you need not listen to any other monitor. over-religious, over-intent upon spiritual affairs, the real and true complaint is all on the other side, that men think not about them enough, as they ought, as is reasonable, as it is their duty to do That is the malady and the mischief. The cast and turn of our infirm and fleshly nature lean all on that side. For, first, this nature is affected chiefly by what we see. Though the things which concern us most deeply be not seen; fer this very reason, that they are not seen, they do not affect us as they ought. Though these things ought to be meditated upon, and must be acted upon, one way or other, long before we come ac tually to experience them, yet in fact we do not meditate upon them, we do not act with a view to them, till something gives us alarm, gives reason to believe that they are approaching fast upon us, that they are at hand, or shortly will be, that we shall indeed experience what they are. The world of spirits, the world for which we are destined, is invisible to us. Hear St. Paul's account of this matter: "We look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen; for the things which are scen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal." "We walk by faith, not by sight; faith is the evidence of things not seen." Some great invisible agent there must be in the universe: "the things which are seen were not made of things which do appear." Now if the great Author of all things be himself invisible to our senses, and if our relation to him must necessarily form the greatest interest and concern of our existence, then it follows, that our greatest interest and con |