cheat, when he quitted his dishonest practices, however gainful and successful: provided, in these several cases, that religious views and motives influenced the determination, and a religious character accompanied and followed these sacrifices.

In these two cases, therefore, men must be converted, and live; or remain unconverted, and die. And the time of conversion can be ascertained. There must that pass within them, at some particular assignable time, which is properly a conversion; and will, all their lives, be remembered as such. This description, without all doubt, comprehends great numbers; and it is each person's business to settle with himself, whether he be not of the number; if he be, he sees what is to be done.

getting those things that are behind, (those things whereunto I have already attained,) and looking forward to those things that are before, (to still further improvement,) I press towards the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus." This was not stopping; it was pressing on. The truth is, in the way of Christian improvement, there is business for the best; there is enough to be done for all.

First: In this stage of the Christian life it is fit to suppose, that there are no enormous crimes, such as mankind universally condemn and cry out against, at present committed by us; yet less faults, still clearly faults, are not unfrequent with us, are too easily excused, too soon repeated. This must be altered.

Secondly: We may not avowedly be engaged in any course or habit of known sin, being at the time conscious of such sin; but we may continue in some practices which our consciences cannot, and would not, upon examination, approve, and in which we have allowed the wrongness of the practice to be screened from our sight by general usage, or by the example of persons of whom we think well. This is not a course to be proceeded in longer. Conscience, our own conscience, is to be our guide in all things.

Fourthly, again: Even where less is to be blamed in our lives, much may remain to be set right in our hearts, our tempers, and dispositions. Let our affections grow more and more pure and holy, our hearts more and more lifted up to God, and loosened from this present world; not from its duties, but from its passions, its temptations, its over anxieties, and great selfishness; our souls cleansed from the dross and corruption which tney have contracted in their passage through it.

But I am willing to believe, that there are very many Christians, who neither have in any part of their lives been without influencing principles, nor have at any time been involved in the habit and course of a particular known sin, or have allowed themselves in such course and practice. Sins, without doubt, they have committed, more than sufficient to humble them to the dust; but they have not, to repeat the same words again, lived in a course of any particular known sin, whether of commission or neglect; and by deliberation, and of aforethought, allowed themselves Thirdly We may not absolutely omit any in such course. The conversion, therefore, above duty to our families, our station, our neighbourdescribed, cannot apply to, or be required of, such hood, or the public, with which we are acquaintChristians. To these we must preach, not con- ed; but might not these duties be more effectively version, but improvement. Improvement, conti- performed, if they were gone about with more dinual improvement, must be our text, and our to- ligence than we have hitherto used? and might pic; improvement in grace, in piety, in disposition; not further means and opportunities of doing good in virtue. Now, I put the doctrine of improve-be found out, if we took sufficient pains to inquire ment, not merely upon the consideration, which and to consider? yet is founded upon express Scripture authority, that, whatever improvement we make in ourselves, we are thereby sure to meliorate our future condition, receiving at the hand of God a proportionable reward for our efforts, our sacrifices, our perseverance, so that our labour is never lost, is never, as Saint Paul expressly assures us, in vain in the Lord; though this, I say, be a firm and established ground to go upon, yet it is not the ground upon which I, at present, place the necessity of a constant progressive improvement in virtue. I rather wish to lay down upon the subject this proposition; namely, that continual improvement is essential in the Christian character, as an evidence of its sincerity; that, if what we have hitherto done in religion has been done from truly religious motives, we shall necessarily go on; that, if our religion be real, it cannot stop. There is no standing still: it is not compatible with the nature of the subject: if the principles which actuated us, be principles of godliness, they must continue to actuate us; and, under this continued stimulus and influence, we must necessarily grow better and better. If this effect do not take place, the conclusion is, that our principles are weak, or hollow, or unsound. Unless we find ourselves grow better, we are not right. For example, if our transgressions do not become fewer and fewer, it is to be feared, that we have left off striving against sin, and then we are not sincere.

I apprehend, moreover, that with no man living can there be a ground for stopping, as though there was nothing more left for him to be done. If any man had this reason for stopping, it was the apostle Paul. Yet did he stop? or did he so judge? Hear his own account; "This I do, for3 Z

Fifthly: It is no slight work to bring our tempers to what they should be; gentle, patient, placable, compassionate; slow to be offended, soon. to be appeased; free from envy, which, though a necessary, is a difficult, attainment; free from bursts of anger; from aversions to particular persons, which is hatred; able heartily to rejoice with them that do rejoice; and, from true tenderness of mind, weeping, even when we can do no more, with them that weep; in a word, to put on charity with all those qualities with which Saint Paul hath clothed it, I Cor. xiii. which read for this purpose.

Sixthly: Whilst any good can be done by us, we shall not fail to do it; but even when our powers of active usefulness fail, which not seldom happens, there still remains that last, that highest, that most difficult, and, perhaps, most acceptable, duty, to our Creator, resignation to his blessed will in the privations, and pains, and afflictions, with which we are visited; thankfulness to him for all that is spared to us, amidst much that is gone; for any mitigation of our sufferings, any degree of ease, and comfort, and support, and assistance, which we experience. Every advanced life, every life of sickness or misfortune, affords

46*

materials for virtuous feelings. In a word, I am | duties and offices of their station; but it originates persuaded, that there is no state whatever of Christian trial, varied and various as it is, in which there will not be found both matter and room for improvement; in which a true Christian will not be incessantly striving, month by month, and year by year, to grow sensibly better and better; and in which his endeavours, if sincere, and assisted, as, if sincere, they may hope to be assisted, by God's grace, will not be rewarded with

success.

SERMON VIII.

PRAYER IN IMITATION OF CHRIST.

And he withdrew himself into the wilderness, and prayed.-Luke v. 16.

THE imitation of our Saviour is justly held out to us as a rule of life; but then there are many things in which we cannot imitate him. What depends upon his miraculous character must necessarily surpass our endeavours, and be placed out of the reach of our imitation. This reason makes those particulars, in which we are able to follow his example, of great importance to be observed by us; because it is to these that our hopes of taking him for our pattern, of treading in his footsteps, are necessarily confined.

Now, our Lord's piety is one of these particulars. We can, if we be so minded, pray to God, as he did. We can aim at the spirit, and warmth, and earnestness, of his devotions; we can use, at least, those occasions, and that mode of devotion, which his example points out to us.

and proceeds from a difference in their internal habits of mind, with respect to God; in the habit of thinking of him in private, and of what relates to him; in cultivating these thoughts, or neglecting them; inviting them, or driving them from us; in forming, or in having formed a habit and custom, as to this point, unobserved and unobservable by cthers, (because it passes in the mind, which no one can see ;) but of the most decisive consequence to our spiritual character and immortal interests. This mind was in Christ: a deep, fixed, and constant piety. The expressions of it we have seen in all the forms, which could bespeak earnestness and sincerity; but the principle itself lay deep in his divine soul; the expressions likewise were occasional, more or fewer, as occasions called, or opportunities offered; but the principle fixed and constant, uninterrupted, unremitted.

But again: Our Lord, whose mental piety was so unquestionable, so ardent, and so unceasing, did not, nevertheless, content himself with that. He thought fit, we find, at sundry times, and I doubt not, also, very frequently, to draw it forth in actual prayer, to clothe it with words, to betake himself to visible devotion, to retire to a mountain for this express purpose, to withdraw himself a short distance from his companions, to kneel down, to pass the whole night in prayer, or in a place devoted to prayer. Let all, who feel their hearts impregnated with religious fervour, remember this example; remember that this disposition of the heart ought to vent itself in actual prayer: let them not either be afraid nor ashamed, nor suffer any person, nor any thing, to keep them from this holy exercise. They will find the devout dispositions of their souls strengthened, gratified, confirmed. This exhortation may not be necessary to the generality of pious tempers; they will naturally follow their propensity, and it will naturally carry them to prayer. But some, even good men, are too abstracted in their way of

God seeth and regardeth the heart, if their devotion be there, if it be within, all outward signs and expressions of it are superfluous. It is enough to answer, that our blessed Lord did not so think. He had all the fulness of devotion in his soul; nevertheless, he thought it not superfluous to utter and pronounce audible prayer to God; and not only so, but to retire and withdraw himself from other engagements; nay, even from his most intimate and favoured companions, expressly for this purpose.

It is to be remarked, that a fulness of mental devotion was the spring and source of our Lord's visible piety. And this state of mind we must acquire. It consists in this; in a habit of turning our thoughts towards God, whenever they are not taken up with some particular engagement.-thinking upon this subject; they think, that since Every man has some subject or other, to which his thoughts turn, when they are not particularly occupied. In a good Christian this subject is God, or what appertains to him. A good Christian, walking in his fields, sitting in his chamber, lying upon his bed, is thinking of God. His meditations draw, of their own accord, to that object, and then his thoughts kindle up his devotions; and devotion never burns so bright, or so warm, as when it is lighted up from within. The immensity, the stupendous nature of the adorable Being who made, and who supports, every thing about us, his grace, his love, his condescension towards his reasonable and moral creatures, that is, towards men; the good things which he has placed within our reach, the heavenly happiness which he has put it in our power to obtain; the infinite moment of our acting well and right, so as not to miss of the great reward, and not only to miss of our reward, but to sink into perdition; such reflections will not fail of generating devotion, of moving within us either prayer, or thanksgiving, or both. This is mental devotion. Perhaps the difference between a religious and an irreligious character, depends more upon this mental devotion, than upon any other thing. The difference will show itself in men's lives and conversation, in their dealings with mankind, and in the various

Again: Our Lord's retirement to prayer appears commonly to have followed some signal act and display of his divine powers. He did every thing to the glory of God; he referred his divine powers to his Father's gift; he made them the subject of his thankfulness, inasmuch as they advanced his great work. He followed them by his devotions. Now every good gift cometh down from the Father of light. Whether they be natural, or whether they be supernatural, the faculties which we possess are by God's donation; wherefore, any successful exercise of these faculties, any instance in which we have been capable of doing something good, properly and truly so, either for the community, which is best of all, for our neighbourhood, for our families, nay even for ourselves, ought to stir and awaken our gratitude to God, and to call

upon reasons, in a great measure, unknown to and incalculable by us.

this affected disguise was broken, and how Joseph found himself forced, as it were, from the resolution he had taken, of keeping his brethren in ignorance of his person. He had proposed, you

Again: The history of Joseph is a domestic example. It is an example of the ruinous consequences of partiality in a parent, and of the quar-read, to detain Benjamin; the rest, being perplexrels and contentions in a family, which naturally spring from such partiality.

ed beyond measure, and distressed by this proposal, Judah, approaching Joseph, presents a most earnest supplication for the deliverance of the child: offers himself to remain Joseph's prisoner or slave, in his brother's place, and, in the conclusion, touches, unknowingly, upon a string, which vibrates with all the affections of the person whom he was addressing. "How shall I go up to my father, and the lad be not with me? lest peradventure I see the evil that shall come on my father." The mention of this circumstance, and this person, subdued immediately the heart of Joseph, and produced a sudden, and, as it should seem, an

Again: It is a lesson to all schemers and confederates in guilt, to teach them this truth, that, when their scheme does not succeed, they are sure to quarrel amongst themselves, and to go into the utmost bitterness of mutual accusation and reproach; as the brethren of Joseph you find did. Again: It is a natural example of the effect of adversity, in bringing men to themselves, to reflections upon their own conduct, to a sense and perception of many things which had gone on, and might have gone on, unthought of and unperceived, if it had not been for some stroke of mis-undesigned, and premature discovery of himself, fortune, which roused their attention. It was af ter the brethren of Joseph had been shut up by him in prison, and were alarmed, as they well might be, for their lives, that their consciences, so far as appears, for the first time smote them: "We are verily guilty concerning our brother, in that we saw the anguish of his soul, when he besought us and we would not hear." This is the natural and true effect of judgments in this world, to bring us to a knowledge of ourselves; that is to say, of those bad things in our lives which have deserved the calamities we are made to suffer.

These are all points in the history: but there is another point in Joseph's character, which I make choice of as the subject of my present discourse; and that is his dutifulness and affection to his father. Never was this virtue more strongly displayed. It runs like a thread through the whole narrative; and whether we regard it as a quality to be admired, or, which would be a great deal better, as a quality to be imitated by us, so far as a great disparity of circumstances will allow of imitation, (which in principle it always will do,) it deserves to be considered with a separate and distinct attention.

to his astonished family. Then, that is, upon this circumstance being mentioned, Joseph could not refrain himself; and after a little preparation, Joseph said unto his brethren, "I am Joseph."

The great secret being now disclosed, what was the conversation which immediately followed? The next word from Joseph's mouth was, "Doth my father yet live?" and his brethren could not answer him; surprise had overcome their faculty of utterance. After comforting, however, and encouraging his brethren, who seemed to sink under the intelligence, Joseph proceeds, "Haste ye, and go up to my father, and say unto him, Thus saith thy son Joseph, God hath made me lord of all Egypt: come down unto me, tarry not: and thou shalt dwell in the land of Goshen, and thou shalt be near unto me, and there will I nourish thee, (for yet there are five years of famine,) lest thou, and thy household, and all that thou hast, come to poverty.. And ye shall tell my father of all my glory in Egypt, and of all that ye have seen: and ye shall haste and bring down my father hither." It is well known that Jacob yielded to this invitation, and passed over with his family into Egypt.

When a surprising course of events had given The next thing to be attended to, is the recepto Joseph, after a long series of years, a most un- tion which he there met with from his recovered expected opportunity of seeing his brethren in son. "And Joseph made ready his chariot, and Egypt, the first question which he asked them went up to meet Israel his father, to Goshen; and was, "Is your father yet alive?" This appears presented himself unto him, and he fell on his from the account, which Reuben gave to Jacob, neck, and wept on his neck a good while. And of the conference which they had held with the Israel said unto Joseph, Now let me die, since I great man of the country, whilst neither of them, have seen thy face; because thou art yet alive." as yet, suspected who he was. Joseph, you re- Not content with these strong expressions of permember, had concealed himself during their first sonal duty and respect, Joseph now availed himjourney, from the knowledge of his brethren; and self of his power and station to fix his father's fait was not consistent with his disguise, to be more mily in the enjoyment of those comforts and adfull and particular, than he was, in his inquiries.vantages, which the land of Egypt afforded in the On account of the continuance of the famine in universal dearth which then oppressed that region the land, it became necessary for the brethren of of the world. For this purpose, as well as to give Joseph to go a second time into Egypt to seek another public token to his family, and to the corn, and a second time to produce themselves be- country, of the deep reverence with which he refore the lord of the country. What had been Jo-garded his parent, he introduced the aged Patriseph's first question on the former visit, was his first question in this, "Is your father well, the old man of whom ye spake? is he yet alive? And they answered, Thy servant our father is in good health, he is yet alive: and they bowed down their heads, and made obeisance."

Hitherto, you observe, all had passed in disguise. The brethren of Joseph knew nothing who they were speaking to; and Joseph was careful to preserve the secret. You will now take notice, how

arch to Pharaoh himself." And Joseph brought in Jacob his father, and set him before Pharaoh: and Jacob blessed Pharaoh." The sovereign of Egypt received a benediction from this venerable stranger. "And Joseph (the account proceeds) nourished his father, and his brethren, and all his father's household, with bread according to their families.”

It remains to be seen how Joseph conducted himself towards his father, on the two occasions,

in which alone it was left for him to discharge the
office, and testify the affection of a son; in his
sickness, and upon his death. "And it came to
pass," we read, "after these things, one told Jo-
seph, behold, thy father is sick and he took with
him his two sons, Manasseh and Ephraim." Jo-
seph delayed not, you find, to leave the court of
Pharaoh, the cares and greatness of his station in
it, in order to pay the last visit to his dying parent:
and to place before him the hopes of his house
and family, in the persons of his two sons.
"And
Israel beheld Joseph's sons, and said, Who are
these? And Joseph said unto his father, They
are my sons, whom God hath given me in this

eyes

fortune, undiminished, nay, rather increased, by absence, by distance, by unexampled success, by remote and foreign connexions, you have seen, in this most ancient of all histories, as conspicuous, and as amiable an instance.as can be met with in the records of the world, in the purest, best ages of its existence.

SERMON X.

(PART I.)

OUR SINS.

My sin is ever before me.-Psalm li. 3.

place. And he said, Bring them, I pray thee, TO THINK LESS OF OUR VIRTUES, AND MORE OF unto me, and I will bless them. (Now the of Israel were dim, so that he could not see.) And he brought them near unto him; and he kissed them, and embraced them and Israel said unto Joseph, I had not thought to see thy face; and, lo! God hath showed me also thy seed. And Joseph brought them out from between his knees, and he bowed himself with his face to the earth." Nothing can well be more solemn or interesting than this interview; more honourable or consoling to old age; or more expressive of the dignified piety of the best of sons, and the greatest of men.

teem.

THERE is a propensity in the human mind, very general and very natural, yet at the same time, unfavourable in a high degree to the Christian character; which is, that, when we look back upon our lives, our recollection dwells too much upon our virtues; our sins are not, as they ought to be, before us; we think too much of our good qualities, or good actions, too little of our crimes, our We now approach the last scene of this event- corruptions, our fallings off and declension from ful history, and the best testimony, which it was God's laws, our defects and weaknesses. These possible for Joseph to give, of the love and rever- we sink and overlook, in meditating upon our good ence with which he had never ceased to treat his properties. This, I allow is natural: because, unfather, and that was upon the occasion of his doubtedly, it is more agreeable to have our minds death, and the honours which he paid to his me- occupied with the cheering retrospect of virtuous mory; honours, vain, no doubt, to the dead, but, deeds, than with the bitter humiliating rememso far as they are significations of gratitude or af- brance of sins and follies. But, because it is nafection, justly deserving of commendation and es-tural, it does not follow that it is good. It may be "And when Jacob had made an end of the bias and inclination of our minds; and yet commanding his sons, he gathered up his feet into neither right nor safe. When I say that it is the bed, and yielded up the ghost, and was gather-wrong, I mean, that it is not the true Christian dised unto his people. And Joseph fell upon his fa- position: and when I say that it is dangerous, I ther's face, and wept upon him, and kissed him. have a view to its effects upon our salvation. And Joseph commanded his servants, the physicians, to embalm his father; and the physicians embalmed Israel. And the Egyptians mourned for him threescore and ten days. And Joseph went up to bury his father; and with him went up all the servants of Pharaoh, the elders of his house, and all the elders of the land of Egypt. And all the house of Joseph, and his brethren, and his father's house: and there went up with him both chariots and horsemen; and it was a very great company. And they came to the threshing floor of Atad, which is beyond Jordan; and there they mourned with a great and a very sore lamentation: and he made a mourning for his father seven days."

Thus died, and thus was honoured in his death, the founder of the Jewish nation, who, amidst many mercies, and many visitations, sudden and surprising vicissitudes of afflictions and joy, found it the greatest blessing of his varied and eventful life, that he had been the father of a dutiful and affectionate son.

I say, that it is not the true Christian disposi tion; for, first, how does it accord with what we read in the Christian Scriptures, whether we consider the precepts, which are found there, applicable to the subject, or the conduct and example of Christian characters?

Now, one precept, and that of Christ himself, you find to be this: "Ye, when ye shall have done all those things, which are commanded you, say, We are unprofitable servants; we have done that which was our duty to do." Luke xvii. 10. It is evident, that this strong admonition was intended, by our Saviour, to check in his disciples an over-weening opinion of their own merit. It is a very remarkable passage. I think none throughout the New Testament more so. And the intention, with which the words were spoken, was evidently to check and repel that opinion of merit, which is sure to arise from the habit of fixing our contemplation so much upon our good qualities, and so little upon our bad ones. Yet this habit is natural, and was never prohibited by It has been said, and, as I believe, truly, that any teacher, except by our Saviour. With him it there is no virtuous quality belonging to the hu- was a great fault, by reason of its inconsistency man character, of which there is not some distinct with the favourite principle of his religion, huand eminent example to be found in the Bible; no mility. I call humility not only a duty, but a relation in which we can be placed, no duty which principle. Humble-mindedness is a Christian we have to discharge, but that we may observe a principle, if there be one; above all, humble-mindpattern for it in the sacred history. Of the duty edness towards God. The servants, to whom our of children to parents, of a son to his father, main- Lord's expression refers, were to be humble-mindtained under great singularities and variations ofed, we may presume, towards one another; but