searching after truth, as our hearts and affec- | and it abode upon him; and I knew him not, tions in obeying it. I say again, let us pray but he that sent me to baptize with water, the unceasingly for grace and help from the Spirit same said unto me, Upon whom thou shalt see of God. When we pray for any worldly ob- the Spirit descending and remaining on him, ject, we may pray mistakenly. We may be the same is he which baptizeth with the Hoignorant of our own good; we may err egre-ly Ghost. And I saw, and bare record, that giously concerning it. But when we pray this is the son of God." for spiritual aid and grace, we are sure that we pray for what we want; for what, if granted, will be the greatest of all blessings. And we pray with hope, because we have this gracious assurance given us by the Lord himself of grace and mercy: "If ye, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your Heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them that ask him?" Matt. vii. 11. SERMON XV. JOHN'S MESSAGE TO JESUS. Now when John had heard in prison the works of Christ, he sent two of his disciples, and said unto him, Art thou he that should come, or do we look for another ?-Matt. xi. 2, 3. It came to pass, that, soon after our Lord's public appearance, John was cast into prison, and there remained, till, by a barbarous order from Herod, in wicked compliance with a wicked vow, this good and courageous servant of God was beheaded. It does not seem quite certain, whether he was not imprisoned twice In prison, however, his disciples, as was natural, came to him, and related to him the great things which Jesus had lately been doing; and it appears, from the accounts of the different evangelists, and by laying these accounts together in order of time, that Jesus, a little before this, amongst other miracles, had cured the centurion's servant without coming near him, and had also raised the young man at Nain to life, when they were carrying him out to his funeral; miracles, which, it may be supposed, were much noised abroad in the country. What then did John the Baptist do, upon receiving this intelligence? He sent to Jesus two of his disciples, saying, "Art thou he that should come, or look we for another ?" ed for, and that also upon the most undeniable grounds, because he saw the Spirit descending and remaining upon him; the token which had been given him, whereby this person was to be distinguished by him. This was a difficulty which interpreters of Scripture, in very early times saw; and the answer which they gave to it I believe to be the true one; namely, that John sent this message, not from any doubt which he himself entertained of the matter, but in order that the doubts which his disciples had conceived about it, might receive an answer and satisfaction at the fountain head; from Jesus himself, who was best able to give it. It will appear odd that John should entertain any doubt, or require any satisfaction THESE words state a transaction, to say the about this matter; he, who had himself publeast of it, of a singular kind, and well entit-licly announced Jesus to be the Messiah lookled to observation. Some time before our Lord's appearance, John the Baptist had produced himself to the country, as a messenger from God, and as a public preacher. The principal thing which he preached was, that a greater and more extraordinary person than himself, that is to say, no other than the longforetold and long-expected Messiah, was about shortly to appear in the world; that for the appearance of this person, which would be the setting up of the kingdom of God upon earth, all men were to prepare themselves by repentance and reformation. Thus did John preach, before it was known or declared, and before he (John himself) knew or declared who this extraordinary person was. It was, as it should seem, upon our Lord's offering himself to John to be baptised of him in Jordan, that John, for the first time, knew and published him to be that person. This testimony and record John afterwards repeated concerning him in this manner, and it is remarkable: "The next day John seeth Jesus coming unto him, and saith, Behold the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world. This is he of whom I said, After me cometh a man, which is preferred before me, for he was before me, and I knew him not; but that he should be made manifest to Israel, therefore am I come baptizing with water. And John bare record, saying, I saw the Spirit descending from heaven like a dove, You will, therefore, now observe what this answer was, and how, and under what circumstances it was given. If you turn to St. Luke's statement of the transaction, chap. vii. verse 20th, you will there find it expressly asserted, what is only implied and tacitly referred to by St. Matthew; (and this is one instance, amongst many, of the advantage of bringing the accounts of the different evangelists together ;) you will find, I say, that it so happened, I ought to have said that it was so ordered by Providence, that at the time, the precise hour, when these messengers from John arrived, our Lord was in the very act of working miracles. In that same hour, says Luke, he cured many of infirmities and plagues, and of evil spirits and unto many that were blind he gave sight: | who hath sent me beareth witness of me:" so that the messengers themselves were eye- John v. 36. It is remarkable that John the witnesses of his powers, and of his gifts, and Baptist wrought no miracle; therefore the of his mighty works; and to this evidence he authority and confirming proof of his mission refers them; and a more decisive or dignified rested very much upon the evidences which answer could not possibly have been given. were exhibited, not by himself, but by the He neither says he was, nor he was not the person whose appearance he professed to fore. person they inquired after, but bids them take tel. And undoubtedly the miracles of our notice and tell John of what they saw, and Lord did, by a reflected operation, establish make their own conclusion from it. "Go your the preaching of John. For if a person in way, and tell John what things ye have seen these days should appear, not working any and heard, how that the blind see, the lame miracle himself, but declaring that another walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, and greater person was soon to follow, and the dead are raised, to the poor the gospel is if that other and greater person did accordpreached." It does not, I think, appear, nor ingly soon follow, and show forth mighty deeds, is it necessary to suppose, that all these spe- the authority of the first person's mission cies of miracles were performed then, or be- would be ratified by the second person's works. fore their eyes. It is specifically mentioned, They who might doubt, nay reasonably doubt, that he then cured many of plagues and infir- concerning the first person's truth and premities, cast out evil spirits, and restored sight tensions before, would be fully satisfied of them to the blind but it is not mentioned, for in- afterwards. And this was exactly the turn stance, that he then raised the dead, though which some rational and considerate Jews gave that miracle be referred to in his answer. Af-to the matter: "And many resorted to him, ter having wrought, whilst they were present, and said, John did no miracle; but all things many and various species of decisive miracles, that John spake of this man were true." The he was well entitled to demand their credit effect of this observation was, what it ought and assent to others upon his own testimony to be, "many believed on him there." John and assertion. x. 41, 42. He Now from this answer of our Lord's, we This distinction between our Lord and his are entitled to infer (and this I think is the forerunner, in one working miracles, and the useful inference to be drawn from it, that the other not, furnishes an account for two things faith which he required, the assent which he which we meet with in the Gospels; one is, demanded, was a rational assent and faith John's declaring that when the person of founded upon proof and evidence. His ex-whom he spoke should appear, his own minishortation was, "believe me for the very works' try, which was then much followed and atsake." He did not bid Philip, upon that oc- tended, would sink in importance and esteem. casion, or the disciples of John upon this, be-" He must increase, I must decrease-He that lieve him, because he was the Son of God, cometh after me is preferred before me-He because he came down from heaven, because that was with thee beyond Jordan, to whom he was in the Father and the Father in him, thou barest witness, behold, the same baptizbecause he was with God and from God, be-eth, and all men come to him." The other is cause the Father had given unto him the Spirit our Lord's own reflection upon John's testiwithout measure, because he was inspired in mony in his favour, which was exactly agreethe fullest and largest sense of the word; for able to the truth of the case. "Ye sent unto all these characters and pretensions, though John, and he bare witness unto the truth; the highest that could belong to any being but I receive not testimony from man. whatsoever, to a prophet, or to more than a was a burning and a shining light; and ye prophet, were nevertheless to be ascertained were willing for a season to rejoice in his light. by facts. When ascertained, they were grounds But I have greater witness than that of John of the most absolute confidence in his word, the works which the Father hath given me of the most implicit and unlimited reliance up-to finish, the same works that I do, bear witon his authority; but they were to be ascertain-ness of me." As if he had said: "My own perfored by facts. To facts, therefore, our Lord ap-mance of miracles is a higher and surer proof peals; to facts he refers them, and to the demon-of my mission, than any testimony which stration which they afforded of his power and could be given to me by another who did not truth. For shutting their eyes against faith, or, perform miracles, however great, or praisemore properly speaking, for shutting their hearts and understandings against the proof and conclusion which facts afforded, he pronounces them liable to condemnation. They were to believe his word, because of his works: that was exactly what he required. "The works which the Father hath given me to finish, the same works that I do, bear witness of me, that the Father hath sent me; and the Father himself worthy, or excellent his character and his preaching were in all respects, or however much his followers confided in him; the one was the testimony of men, the other of God.” “I receive not testimony of man;" the proofs which I myself exhibit before your eyes of divine power, supersede human testimony. Again: Our Lord put the truth of his pretensions, precisely and specifically upon G02 the evidence of his miracles: "If I do not the works of my Father, believe me not: but if I do, though ye believe me not, believe the works." John x. 37. What fairer appeal could be made? Could more be done to challenge inquiry, or place the question upon the right ground? Lastly: In the xvth chapter and 24th verse, our Lord fixes the guilt of the unbelieving Jews upon this article, that they rejected miraculous proof, which ought to have convinced them; and that if they had not had such proof they might have been excusable, or, comparatively speaking, they would not have had sin. His words are very memorable: "If I had not done among them the works which none other man did, they had not had sin." It appears, therefore, that as well in the answer to John's messengers, as in the other passages of his history and discourses which resemble this, our Lord acted a part the most foreign and distant from the part of an impostor or enthusiast that can possibly be conceived. Was it for an impostor or enthusiast to refer messengers who came to him, to miraculous works performed before their eyes, to things done upon the spot; to the testimo"Shew John those ny of their own senses. things which ye do see and hear." Would, could any other than a prophet come from God do this? In like manner, was it for any other than a divine messenger to bid his very disciples not believe in him, if he did not these works; or to tell unbelievers, that if he had not done among them works which none other man did, their unbelief might have been excusable ? In all this we discern conviction and sincerity, fairness, truth, and evidence. these same words, when they come to be ful- my seYou will observe the expression," cret faults: O cleanse thou me from my secret faults." Now the question is, to whom are these faults a secret? to myself, or to others? whether the prayer relates to faults which are concealed from mankind, and are in that sense secret; or to faults which are concealed from the offender himself, and are therefore secret, in the most full and strict sense of which the term is capable? Now, I say, that the context, or whole passage taken together, obliges us to understand the word secret in this latter sense. For observe two particulars. The first verse of the text runs thus: "Who can tell how oft he offendeth? O cleanse thou me from my secret faults." Now, to give a connexion to the two parts of this verse, it is necessary to suppose, that one reason, for which it was so difficult for any man to know how oft he offended was, that many of his faults were secret; but in what way and to whom secret? to himself undoubtedly: otherwise the secrecy could have been no reason or cause of that difficulty. The merely being concealed from others would be nothing to the present purpose; because the most concealed sins, in that sense, are as well known to the sinner himself, as those which are detected or most open; and there. fore such concealment would not account for the sinner's difficulty in understanding the state of his soul and of his conscience. To me it appears very plain, that the train of the Psalmist's thoughts went thus:-He is led t cast back his recollection upon the sins of his life; he finds himself, as many of us must do, lost and bewildered in their number and frequency; because, beside all other reasons of confusion, there were many which were unnoticed, unreckoned, and unobserved. Against this class of sins, which, for this reason, he calls his secret faults, he raises up his voice to God in prayer. This is evidently, as I think, the train and connexion of thought; and this requires, that the secret faults here spoken of be explained of such faults as were secret to the person himself. It makes no connexion, it carries with it no consistent meaning, to interpret them of those faults which were concealed from others. This is one argument for the exposition contended for; another is the THESE words express a rational and affect- following. You will observe in the text that ing prayer, according to the sense which they two kinds of sins are distinctly spoken of uncarry with them at first sight, and without der the name of "secret faults, and presumpThe words are, "O cleanse tho entering into any interpretation of them what-tuous sins." soever. Who is there that will not join heartily me from my secret faults; keep thy servant in this prayer? for who is there that has not also from presumptuous sins." Now, it will occasion to pray against his sins? We are laden not do to consider these secret faults as mere"The remem-ly concealed faults; because they are not ne with the weight of our sins. brance of them is grievous to us, the burden cessarily distinguished from, nor can be placed But beyond this, in opposition to, presumptuous sins. of them is intolerable." SERMON XVI. ON INSENSIBILITY TO OFFENCES. Who can tell how oft he offendeth? O cleanse Psalm xix. 12, 13. The Psalmist is here addressing God; he is deep-bery, and the like, and yet be far from the kingly affected with the state of his soul, and with dom of God. I fear it may be said of most of his sins, considered in relation to God. Now, us, that the class of sins which compose our with respect to God, there may be, and there account with God, are habitual sins; habitual often is, as much presumption, as much daring omissions, and habitual commissions. Now it n committing a concealed sin, as in commit- is true of both these, that we may have conting a sin which is open to the world. The tinued in them so long, they may have become circumstance of concealment, or detection, so familiar to us by repetition, that we think makes no difference at all in this respect; and nothing at all of them. We may neglect any therefore they could not properly be placed in duty, till we forget that it is one; we may nedifferent classes; nor would it be natural so glect our prayers; we may neglect our devoto place them; but offences which escape the tion; we may neglect every duty towards God, sinner's own notice at the time, may certain- till we become so unaccustomed and unused to ly be distinguished from those which are com- them, as to be insensible that we are incurring mitted with a high hand, with a full know- any omission, or contracting, from that omisledge of the guilt, and defiance of the conse- sion, any guilt which can hurt; and yet we quences; and that is, as I believe, the distinc- may be, in truth, all the while "treasuring tion here intended and the one the Psalmist up wrath against the day of wrath." How called his secret faults, the other his presumptuous sins. Upon the whole, therefore, I conclude, that the secret sins against which the Psalmist prayed, were sins secret to himself. many thousands, for instance, by omitting to attend the sacrament, have come not to know that it forms any part of Christian obligation; and long disuse and discontinuance would have the same effect upon any other duty, however plain might be the proof of it, when the matter came to be considered. But here, therefore, comes the principal question-How there can be any sins of this sort ? how that can be a sin, which is neither observed, nor known to be so by the person who It is not less so with sins of commission. Se. commits it? And then there comes also a serious minds are shocked with observing with cond consideration, which is; if there be such, what complete unconcern and indifferencs what ought to be done with respect to them? many forbidden things are practised. The perNow, as well upon the authority of the text, sons who are guilty of them, do not, by any as upon what is the real case with human na- mark or symptom whatever, appear to feel the ture, when that case is rightly understood, I smallest rebuke of conscience, or to have the contend, first, that there are many violations least sense of either guilt, or danger, or shame, of God's laws, which the men who are guilty in what they do; and it not only appears to be of them, are not sensible of at the time; and so, but it is so. They are, in fact, without any yet, secondly, such, as that their want of being notice, consciousness, or compunction upon the sensible of them, does not excuse, or make subject. These sins, therefore, if they be them cease to be sins. All this, in truth, is such, are secret sins to them. But are they no other than the regular effect of sinful ha- not therefore sins? That becomes the next bits. Such is the power of custom over our great question. We must allow, because fact consciences, that there is, perhaps, hardly any proves it, that habit and custom can destroy bad action which a man is capable of commit- the sense and perception of sin. Does the act ting, that he may not commit so often, as to then, in that person, cease to be any longer a become unconscious of its guilt, as much as of sin? This must be asserted by those who arthe most indifferent thing which he does. If gue, that nothing can be a sin, but what is some very great and atrocious crimes may be known and understood, and also felt and per thought exceptions to this observation, and that ceived to be so by the sinner himself at the no habit or custom can by any possibility re- time; and who, consequently, deny that there concile them to the human conscience; it is are any secret sins in our sense of that expres. only because they are such as cannot, from sion. Now mark the consequences which would their very nature, be repeated so often by the follow such an opinion. It is then the timosame person, as to become familiar and habi-rous beginner in wicked courses who alone is tual: if they could, the consequence would be to be brought to account. Can such a doctrine the same; they would be no more thought of be maintained? Sinners are called upon by by the sinner himself, than other habitual sins preachers of the Gospel, and over and over are. But great outrageous crimes against again called upon, to compare themselves with life, for instance, and property, and public safe- themselves; themselves at one time with them. ty, may be laid out of the question, as not fall-selves at another; their former selves, when ing, I trust and believe, within the case of any they first entered upon sinful allowances, and one who hears me; and as in no case whatever their present selves, since they have been concapable of being so common, as to be fair ex-firmed in them With what fear, and scruple, periments of the strength of our observation. and reluctance, what sense and acknowledgeThese are not what compose our account with ment of wrong, what apprehension of danger, God. A man may be (as indeed most men against what remonstrance of reason, and with ere) quite free from the crimes of murder, rob- what opposition and violence to their religious SERMON XVII. SERIOUSNESS OF HEART AS TO RELIGION. But that on the good ground are they, who in an honest and good heart, having heard the word, keep it, and bring forth fruit with pa tience. Luke viii. 15. principle, they first gave way to temptation! With what ease, if ease it may be called, at least with what hardness and unconcern, they now continue in practices which they once dreaded in a word, what a change, as to the particular article in question at least, has taken place in their moral sentiments! Yet, notwithstanding this change in them, the reason, which made what they are doing a sin, remains the same that it was at first: at first they saw great force and strength in that reason; at present they see none; but, in truth, it is all IT may be true, that a right religious princithe while the same. Unless, therefore, we will ple produces corresponding external actions, choose to say, that a man has only to harden and yet it may not be true, that external achimself in his sins (which thing perseverance tions are what we should always, or entirely, will always do for him,) and that with the or principally, look to for the purpose of estisense he takes away the guilt of them, and mating our religious character; or from whence that the only sinner is the conscious, tremb-alone we should draw our assurance and eviling, affrightened, reluctant sinner; that the confirmed sinner is not a sinner at all; unless we will advance this, which affronts all principles of justice and sense, we must confess, that secret sins are both possible and frequent things that with the habitual sinner, and with every man, in so far as he is, and in that article in which he is, an habitual sinner, this is almost sure to be the case. : What then are the reflections suitable to such a case? First, to join most sincerely with the Psalmist in his prayer to God, "O cleanse thou me from my secret faults." Secondly, to see, in this consideration, the exceedingly great danger of evil habits of all kinds. It is a dreadful thing to commit sins without knowing it, and yet to have those sins to answer for. That is dreadful; and yet it is no other than the just consequence and effect of sinful habits. They destroy in us the perception of guilt: that experience proves. They do not destroy the guilt itself that no man can argue, be cause it leads to injustice and absurdity. How well does the Scripture express the state of an habitual sinner, when he calls him "dead in trespasses and sins!" His conscience is dead that, which ought to be the living, actuating, governing principle of the whole man, is dead within him; is extinguished by the power of sin reigning in his heart. He is incapable of perceiving his sins, whilst he commits them with greediness. It is evident, that a vast alteration must take place in such a man, before he be brought into the way of salvation. It is a great change from innocence to guilt, when a man falls from a life of virtue to a life of sin. But the recovery from it is much greater; because the very secrecy of our sins to ourselves, the unconsciousness of them, which practice and custom, and repetition and habit, have produced in us, is an almost unsurmountable hinderance to an effectual reformation. dence of being in the right way. External actions must depend upon ability, and must wait for opportunity. From a change in the heart, a visible outward change will ensue: from an amendment of disposition, an amended conduct will follow; but it may nei ther be so soon, nor so evident, nor to such a degree, as we may at first sight expect, inasmuch as it will be regulated by occasions and by ability. I do not mean to say (for I do not believe it to be so,) that there is any person so forlorn and destitute, as to have no good in his power: expensive kindnesses may not; but there is much kindness which is not expensive: a kindness of temper; a readiness to oblige; a willingness to assist ; a constant inclination to promote the comfort and satisfaction of all who are about us, of all with whom we have concern or connexion, of all with whom we associate or converse. There is also a concern for the virtue of those over whom, or with whom, we can have any sort of influence, which is a natural concomitant of a radical concern for virtue in ourselves. But, above all, it is undoubtedly in every person's power, whether poor or rich, weak or strong, ill or well endowed by nature or education, it is, I say, in every person's power to avoid sin: if he can do little good, to take care that he do no ill. Although, therefore, there be no person in the world so circumstanced, but who both can and will testify his inward principle by his outward behaviour, in one shape or other; yet, on account of the very great difference of those circumstances in which men are placed, and to which their outward exertions are subjected, outward behaviour is not always a just measure of inward principle. But there is a second case, and that but too common, in which outward behaviour is no measure of religious principle at all; and that is, when it springs from other and different motives and reason from those which religion presents. A very bad man may be externally good: a man completely irreligious at the |