Reason, faith, and hope, are the only principles to which religion applies, or possibly can apply: and it is reason, faith, and hope, striving with sense, striving with temptation, striving for things absent against things which are present. That religion, therefore, may not be quite excluded and overborne, may not quite sink under these power-worldly interest comes to be the serious thing with ful causes, every support ought to be given to it, which can be given by education, by instruction, and, above all, by the example of those, to whom young persons look up, acting with a view to a future life themselves. our losses, our fortunes, pocessing so much of our minds, whether we regard the hours we expend in meditating upon them, or the earnestness with which we think about them; and religion possessing so little share of our thought either in time or earnestness; the consequence is, that us, religion comparatively the trifle. Men of bu siness are naturally serious; but all their seriousness is absorbed by their business. In religion they are no more serious than the most giddy characters are; than those characters are, which betray levity in all things. Again: it is the nature of worldly business of all kinds, especially of much hurry or over-em- Again: the want of due seriousness in religion ployment, or over-anxiety in business, to shut out is almost sure to be the consequence of the aband keep out religion from the mind. The ques- sence or disuse of religious ordinances and exertion is, whether the state of mind which this cause cises. I use two terms; absence and disuse. produces, ought to be called a want of seriousness Some have never attended upon any religious orin religion. It becomes coldness and indiffer-dinance, or practised any religious exercises, since ence towards religion; but is it properly a want of seriousness upon the subject? I think it is; and in this way. We are never serious upon any matter which we regard as trifling. This is impossible. And we are led to regard a thing as trifling, which engages no portion of our habitual thoughts, in comparison with what other things do. the time they were born; some very few times in their lives. With these it is the absence of religious ordinances and exercises. There are others, (and many we fear of this description,) who whilst under the guidance of their parents, have frequented religious ordinances, and been trained up to religious exercises, but who, when they came into more public life, and to be their own masters, and to mix in the pleasures of the world, or engage themselves in its business and pursuits, have forsaken these duties in whole or in a great degree. With these it is the disuse of religious ordinances and exercises. But I must also explain what I mean by religious ordinances and exercises. By religious ordinances, I mean the being instructed in our catechism in our youth; attending upon public worship at church; the keeping holy the Lord's day regularly and most particularly, together with a few other days in the year, by which some very principal events and passages of the Christian history are commemorated; and, at its proper season, the more solemn office of receiving the Lord's Supper. These are so many rites and ordinances of Christianity; concerning all which it may be said, that with the greatest part of mankind, especially of that class of mankind which must, or does, give much of its time and care to worldly concerns, they are little less than absolutely necessary; if we judge it to be necessary to maintain and uphold any sentiment, any impression, any seriousness about religion in the mind at all. They are necessary to preserve in the thoughts a place for the subject; they are necessary that the train of our thoughts may not even be closed up against it. Were all days of the week alike, and employed alike; was there no difference or distinction between Sunday and work-day; was there not a church in the nation: were we never, from one year's end to another, called together to participate in public worship; were there no set forms of pubic worship: no particular persons appointed to minister and officiate, indeed no assemblies for public worship at all; no joint prayers; no preaching; still religion, in itself, in its reality and importance, in its But further: the world, even in its innocent pursuits and pleasures, has a tendency unfavourable to the religious sentiment. But were these all it had to contend with, the strong application which religion makes to the thoughts whenever we think of it at all, the strong interest which it presents to us, might enable it to overcome and prevail in the contest. But there is another adversary to oppose, much more formidable; and that is sensuality; an addiction to sensual pleasures. It is the flesh which lusteth against the Spirit; that is the war which is waged within us. So it is, no matter what may be the cause, that sensual indulgences, over and above their proper criminality, as sins, as offences against God's commands, have a specific effect upon the heart of man in destroying the religious principle within him; or still more surely in preventing the formation of that principle. It either induces an open profaneness of conversation and behaviour, which scorns and contemns religion; a kind of profligacy, which rejects and sets at nought the whole thing; or it brings upon the heart an averseness to the subject, a fixed dislike and reluctance to enter upon its concerns in any way whatever. That a resolved sinner should set himself against a religion which tolerates no sin, is not to be wondered at. He is against religion, because religion is against the course of life upon which he has entered, and which he does not feel himself willing to give up. But this is not the whole, nor is it the bottom of the matter. The effect we allude to is not so reasoning or argumentative as this. It is a specific effect upon the mind. The heart is rendered unsusceptible of religious impressions, incapable of a serious regard to religion. And this effect belongs to sins of sensuality more than to other sins. It is a conse-end and event, would be the same thing as what quence which almost universally follows from them. We measure the importance of things, not by what, or according to what they are in truth, but by and according to the space and room which they occupy in our minds. Now our business, our trade, our schemes, our pursuits, our gains, it is: we should still have to account for our conduct; there would still be heaven and hell; salvation and perdition; there would still be the laws of God, both natural and revealed; all the obligation which the authority of a Creator can impose upon a creature; all the gratitude which is due from a rational being to the Author and Giver of every blessing which he enjoys; lastly, there would still be the redemption of the world by Jesus Christ. All these things would, with or without religious ordinances, be equally real, and existing, and valid: but men would not think equally about them. Many would entirely and totally neglect them. Some there would always be of a more devout, or serious, or contemplative disposition, who would retain a lively sense of these things under all circumstances and all disadvantages, who would never lose their veneration for them, never forget them. But from others, from the careless, the busy, the followers of pleasure, the pursuers of wealth or advancement, these things would slip away from the thoughts entirely. Together with religious ordinances we mentioned religious exercises. By the term religious exercises, I in particular mean private prayer; whether it be at set times, as in the morning and evening of each day; or whether it be called forth by occasions, as when we are to form some momentous decision, or enter upon some great undertaking; or when we are under some pressing difficulty or deep distress, some excruciating bodily pain or heavy affliction; or, on the other hand, and no less properly, when we have lately been receiving some signal benefit, experiencing some signal mercy; such as preservation from danger, relief from difficulty or distress, abatement of pain, recovery from sickness: for by prayer, let it be observed, we mean devotion in general; and thanksgiving is devotion as much as prayer itself. I mean private prayer, as here described; and I also mean, what is perhaps the most natural form of private prayer, short ejaculatory extemporaneous addresses to God, as often as either the reflections which rise up in our minds, let them come from what quarter they may, or the objects and incidents which seize our attention, prompt us to utter them; which in a religiously disposed mind, will be the case, I may say, every hour, and which ejaculation may be offered up to God in any posture, in any place, or in any situation. Amongst religious exercises, I also reckon family prayer, which unites many of the uses both of public worship and private prayer. The reading of religious books is likewise to be accounted a religious exercise. Religious meditation still more so; and more so for this reason, that it implies and includes that most important duty, self-examination; for I hold it to be next to impossible for a man to meditate upon religion, without meditating at the same time upon his own present condition with respect to the tremendous alternative which is to take place upon him after his death. These are what we understand by religious exercises; and they are all so far of the same nature with religious ordinances, that they are aids and helps of religion itself; and I think that religious seriousness cannot be maintained in the soul without them. gious seriousness. The principle itself is destroy ed in them, or was never formed in them. Upor those who hear, its effect is this: If they have concern about religion, and the disposition towards religion which they ought to have, and which we signify by this word seriousness, they will be inwardly shocked and offended by the levity with which they hear it treated. They will, as it were, resent such treatment of a subject, which by them has always been thought upon with awe, and dread, and veneration. But the pain with which they were at first affected, goes off by hearing frequently the same sort of language; and then they will be almost sure, if they examine the state of their minds as to religion, to feel a change, in themselves for the worse. This is the danger to which those are exposed, who had before imbibed serious impressions. Those who had not, will be prevented, by such sort of conversation, from ever imbibing them at all; so that its influence is in all cases pernicious. The turn which this levity usually takes, is in jests and raillery upon the opinions, or the peculiarities, or the persons of men of particular sects, or who bear particular names; especially if they happen to be more serious than ourselves. And of late this loose, and I can hardly help calling it profane humour, has been directed chiefly against the followers of methodism. But against whomsoever it happens to be pointed, it has all the bad effects both upon the speaker and the hearer which we have noticed: and as in other instances, so in this, give me leave to say that it is very much misplaced. In the first place, were the doctrines and sentiments of those who bear this name ever so foolish and extravagant, (I do not say that they are either,) this proposition I shall always maintain to be true, viz. that the wildest opinion that ever was entertained in matters of religion, is more rational than unconcern about these matters. Upon this subject nothing is so absurd as indifference; no folly so contemptible as thoughtlessness and levity. In the next place, do methodists deserve this treatment? Be their particular doctrines what they may, the professors of these doctrines appear to be in earnest about them; and a man who is in earnest in religion cannot be a bad man, still less a fit subject for derision. I am no methodist myself. In their leading doctrines I differ from them. But I contend that sincere men are not, for these, or indeed, any doctrines, to be made laughing stocks to others. I do not bring in the case of methodists in this part of my discourse, for the purpose of vindicating their tenets, but for the purpose of observing (and I wish that the observation may weigh with all my readers) that the custom of treating their characters and persons, their preaching or their preachers, their meetings or worship, with scorn, has the pernicious consequence of destroying our own seriousness, together with the seriousness of those who hear or join in such sort of conversation; especially if they be mischief is actually done in this very way. But again: a cause which has a strong tenden-young persons: and I am persuaded that much cy to destroy religious seriousness, and which al- | most infallibly prevents its formation and growth in young minds, is levity in conversation upon religious subjects, or upon subjects connected with religion. Whether we regard the practice with respect to those who use it, or to those who hear it, it is highly to be blamed, and is productive of great mischief. In those who use it, it amounts almost to a proof that they are destitute of reli A phrase much used upon these occasions, and frequent in the mouth of those who speak of such as in religious matters are more serious than themselves, is, "that they are righteous over-much." These, it is true, are scripture words; and it is that circumstance which has given currency to the expression: but in the way and sense in which they are used, I am convinced that they are exceedingly misapplied. The text occurs once in the Bible, choly shall fall upon religious ideas, as it may and only once. It is in the book of Ecclesiastes, upon any other subject which seizes their distem7th chap. and 16th verse. It is not very easy to pered imagination. But this is not religion leaddetermine what is meant by it in the place in ing to melancholy. Or it sometimes is the case which it is found. It is a very obscure passage. It that men are brought to a sense of religion by seems to me most probable, that it relates to an calamity and affliction, which produce, at the same external affectation of righteousness, not prompt- time, depression of spirits. But neither here is ed by internal principle: or rather to the assuming religion the cause of this distress or dejection, or the character of righteousness, merely to vaunt or to be blamed for it. These cases being excepted, show our superiority over others; to conceitedness the very reverse of what is alleged against religion in religion: in like manner as the caution delivered is the truth. No man's spirits were ever hurt by in the same verse, "be not over-wise," respects the doing his duty. On the contrary, one good action, ostentation of wisdom, and not the attainment it-one temptation resisted and overcome, one sacriself. So long as we mean by righteousness, a sin-fice of desire or interest purely for conscience' cere and anxious desire to seek out the will of God, and to perform it, it is impossible to be righteous over-much. There is no such thing in nature: nor was it, nor could it be, the intention of any passage in the Bible, to say that there is, or to authorise us in casting over-righteousness as a reproach or a censure upon any one. sake, will prove a cordial for weak and low spirits beyond what either indulgence or diversion or company can do for them. And a succession and course of such actions and self-denials, springing from a religious principle and manfully maintained, is the best possible course that can be followed as a remedy for sinkings and oppressions of In like manner it has been objected, that so this kind. Can it then be true, that religion leads much regard, or, as the objectors would call it, to melancholy? Occasions arise to every man over-regard for religion, is inconsistent with the living; to many very severe, as well as repeated interest and welfare of our families, and with suc-occasions, in which the hopes of religion are the cess and prosperity in our worldly affairs. I be-only stay that is left him. Godly men have that lieve that there is very little ground for this objection in fact, and even as the world goes; in reason and principle there is none. A good Christian divides his time between the duties of religion, the calls of business, and those quiet relaxations which may be innocently allowed to his circumstances and condition, and which will be chiefly in his family or amongst a few friends. In this plan of life there is no confusion or interference of its parts; and unless a man be given to sloth and laziness, which are what religion condemns, he will find time enough for them all. This calm system may not be sufficient for that unceasing eagerness, hurry, and anxiety about worldly affairs, in which some men pass their lives; but it is sufficient for every thing which reasonable prudence requires; and it is perfectly consistent with usefulness in our stations, which is a main point. Indeed, compare the hours which serious persons spend in religious exercises and meditations, with the hours which the thoughtless and irreligious spend in idleness and vice and expensive diversions, and you will perceive on which side of the comparison the advantage lies, even in this view of the subject. within them which cheers and comforts them in their saddest hours: ungodly men have that which strikes their heart, like a dagger, in its gayest moments. Godly men discover, what is very true, but what, by most men, is found out too late, namely, that a good conscience, and the hope of our Creator's final favour and acceptance, are the only solid happiness to be attained in this world. Experience corresponds with the reason of the thing. I take upon me to say, that religious men are generally cheerful. If this be not observed, as might be expected, supposing it to be true, it is because the cheerfulness which religion inspires does not show itself in noise or in fits and starts of merriment, but is calm and constant. Of this the only true and valuable kind of cheerfulness, for all other kinds are hollow and unsatisfying, religious men possess not less but a greater share than others. Another destroyer of religious seriousness, and which is the last I shall mention, is a certain fatal turn which some minds take, namely, that when they find difficulties in or concerning religion, or any of the tenets of religion, they forthwith plunge into irreligion; and make these difficulties, or any degree of uncertainty which seems to their apprehension to hang over the subject, a ground and occasion for giving full liberty to their inclinations, and for casting off the restraints of religion entirely. This is the case with men, who, at the best, perhaps, were only balancing between the sanctions of religion and the love of pleasure or of unjust gain, but especially the former. In this precarious state, any objection, or appearance of Nor is there any thing in the nature of religion to support the objection. In a certain sense it is true, what has been sometimes said, that religion ought to be the rule of life, not the business; by which is meant, that the subject matter even of religious duties lies in the common affairs and transactions of the world. Diligence in our calling is an example of this; which, however, keeps both a man's head and hands at work upon business merely temporal; yet religion may be govern-objection, which diminishes the force of the reliing him here meanwhile. God may be feared in the busiest scenes. gious impression, determines the balance against the side of virtue, and gives up the doubter to In addition to the above, there exists another sensuality, to the world, and to the flesh. Now, prejudice against religious seriousness, arising of all ways which a man can take, this is the from a notion very cominonly entertained, viz. that surest way to destruction; and it is completely religion leads to gloom and melancholy. This no- irrational. I say it is completely irrational; for tion, I am convinced, is a mistake. Some persons when we meditate upon the tremendous conseare constitutionally subject to melancholy, which quences which form the subject of religion, we is as much a disease in them, as the ague is a dis- cannot avoid this reflection, that any degree of ease; and it may happen that such men's melan- I probability whatever, I had almost said any degree SERMON II. TASTE FOR DEVOTION. But the hour cometh and now is, when the true worshippers shall worship the Father in spirit and in truth: for the Father secketh such to worship him. God is a Spirit; and they that worship him, must worship him in spirit and in truth.-John iv. 23, 24. of possibility whatever, of religion being true, ought to determine a rational creature so to act as to secure himself from punishment in a future state, and the loss of that happiness which may be attained. Therefore he has no pretence for alleging uncertainty as an excuse for his conduct, because he does not act in conformity with that in which there is no uncertainty at all. In the next place, it is giving to apparent difficulties more weight than they are entitled to. I only request any man to consider, first, the necessary allow- A TASTE and relish for religious exercise, or ances to be made for the short-sightedness and the want of it, is one of the marks and tokens by the weakness of the human understanding; se- which we may judge whether our heart be right condly, the nature of those subjects concerning towards God or not. God is unquestionably an which religion treats, so remote from our senses, object of devotion to every creature which he has so different from our experience, so above and be-made capable of devotion; consequently, our yond the ordinary train and course of our ideas; minds can never be right towards him, unless and then say, whether difficulties, and great diffi- they be in a devotional frame. It cannot be disculties also, were not to be expected; nay further, puted, but that the Author and Giver of all things, whether they be not in some measure subservient upon whose will and whose mercy we depend for to the very purpose of religion. The reward of every thing we have, and for every thing we look everlasting life, and the punishment or misery of for, ought to live in the thoughts and affections of which we know no end, if they were present and his rational creatures. "Through thee have I immediate, could not be withstood, and would not been holden up ever since I was born: thou art leave any room for liberty or choice. But this he that took me from my mother's womb: my sort of force upon the will is not what God de- praise shall be always of thee." If there be such signed; nor is suitable indeed to the nature of things as first sentiments towards God, these free, moral, and accountable agents. The truth words of the Psalmist express them. That devois, and it was most likely beforehand that it would tion to God is a duty, stands upon the same proof be so, that amidst some points which are dark, as that God exists. But devotion is an act of the some which are dubious, there are many which mind strictly. In a certain sense, duty to a felare clear and certain. Now, I apprehend, that, if low-creature may be discharged if the outward we act faithfully up to those points concerning act be performed, because the benefit to him dewhich there is no question, most especially if we pends upon the act. Not so with devotion. determine upon and choose our rule and course of is altogether the operation of the mind. God is a life according to those principles of choice which Spirit, and must be worshipped in spirit, that is, all men whatever allow to be wise and safe prin- in mind and thought. The devotion of the mind ciples, and the only principles which are so; and may be, will be, ought to be, testified and accomconduct ourselves steadfastly according to the rule panied by outward performances and expressions: thus chosen, the difficulties which remain in religion but, without the mind going along with it, no will not move or disturb us much; and will, as we form, no solemnity can avail, as a service to God. proceed, become gradually less and fewer. Where It is not so much a question under what mode as, if we begin with objections; if all we consider men worship their Maker; but this is the quesabout religion be its difficulties; but, most espe- tion, whether their mind, and thoughts, and affeccially, if we permit the suggestion of difficulties tions, accompany the mode which they adopt or to drive us into a practical rejection of religion itself, not. I do not say, that modes of worship are inand to afford us, which is what we wanted, an ex- different things; for certainly one mode may be cuse to ourselves for casting off its restraints; more rational, more edifying, more pure than anothen the event will be, that its difficulties will mul ther; but they are indifferent, in comparison with tiply upon us; its light grow more and more dim, the question, whether the heart attend the worship, and we shall settle in the worst and most hopeless or be estranged from it. of all conditions; the last condition, I will venture to say, in which any man living would wish his son, or any one whom he loved, and for whose happiness he was anxious, to be placed; a life of confirmed vice and dissoluteness; founded in a formal renunciation of religion. He that has to preach Christianity to persons in this state, has to preach to stones. He must not expect to be heard, either with complacency or seriousness, or patience, or even to escape contempt and derision. Habits of thinking are fixed by habits of acting; and both too solidly fixed to be moved by human persuasion. God in his mercy, and by his providences, as well as by his Spirit, can touch and soften the heart of stone. And it is seldom perhaps, that, without some strong, and, it may be, sudden impressions of this kind, and from this source, serious sentiments ever penetrate dispositions hardened in the manner which we have here described. It These two points, then, being true; first, that devotion is a duty; secondly, that the heart must participate to make any thing we do devotion; it follows that the heart cannot be right toward God, unless it be possessed with a taste and relish for his service, and for what relates to it. Men may, and many undoubtedly do, attend upon acts of religious worship, and even from religious motives, yet, at the same time, without this taste and relish of which we are speaking. Religion has no savour for them. I do not allude to the case of those who attend upon the public worship of the church, or of their communion, from compliance with custom, out of regard to station, for example's sake merely, from habit merely; still less to the case of those who have particular worldly views in so doing. I lay the case of such persons, for the present, out of the question; and I consider only the case of those, who knowing and believing the worship of God to be a duty, and that the wilful neglect of this, as of other duties, must look forward to future punishment, do join in worship from a principle of obedience, from a consideration of those consequences which will follow disobedience; from the fear indeed of God, and the dread of his judgments (and so far from motives of religion,) yet without any taste or relish for religious exercise itself. That is the case I am considering. It is not for us to presume to speak harshly of any conduct, which proceeds, in any manner, from a regard to God, and the expectation of a future judgment. God, in his Scriptures, holds out to man terrors, as well as promises; punishment after death, as well as reward. Undoubtedly he intended those motives which he himself proposes, to operate and have their influence. Wherever they operate, good ensues; very great and important good, compared with the cases in which they do not operate; yet not all the good we would desire, not all which is attainable, not all which we ought to aim at, in our Christian course. The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge: but calling it the beginning, implies that we ought to proceed further; namely, from his fear to his love. To apply this distinction to the subject before us: the man who serves God from a dread of his displeasure, and therefore in a certain sense by constraint, is, beyond all comparison, in a better situation as touching his salvation, than he who defies this dread and breaks through this constraint. He, in a word, who obeys, from whatever motive his obedience springs, provided it be a religious motive, is of a character, as well as in a condition, infinitely preferable to the character and condition of the man whom no motives whatever can induce to perform his duty. Still it is true, that if he feels not within himself a taste and relish for the service which he performs, (to say nothing of the consideration how much less acceptable his services may be,) and for devotion itself, he wants one satisfactory evidence of his heart being right towards God. A further progress in religion will give him this evidence, but it is not yet attained: as yet, therefore, there is a great deficiency. The taste and relish for devotion, of which we are speaking, is what good men in all ages have felt strongly. It appears in their history: it appears in their writings. The book of Psalms, in particular, was, great part of it, composed under the impression of this principle. Many of the Psalms are written in the truest spirit of devotion; and it is one test of the religious frame of our own minds, to observe whether we have a relish for these compositions; whether our hearts are stirred as we read them; whether we perceive in them words alone, a mere letter, or so many grateful, gratifying sentiments towards God in unison with what we ourselves feel, or have before felt. And what we are saying of the book of Psalms, is true of many religious books that are put into our hands, especially books of devotional religion; which, though they be human compositions, and nothing more, are of a similar cast with the devotional writings of Scripture, and excellently calculated for their purpose. We read of * Amongst these I particularly recommend the pray. ers and devotions annexed to the new Whole Duty of aged persons, who passed the greatest part of their time in acts of devotion, and passed it with enjoyment. "Anna, the prophetess, was of great age, which departed not from the temple, but served God with fastings and prayers, night and day." The first Christians, so far as can be gathered from their history in the Acts of the Apostles, and the Epistles, as well as from the subsequent account left of them, took great delight in exercises of devotion. These seemed to form, indeed, the principal satisfaction of their lives in this world. "Continuing daily, with one accord, in the temple, and breaking bread," that is, celebrating the holy communion, "from house to house, they eat their meat with gladness and singleness of heart, praising God." In this spirit Christians set out, finding the greatest gratification they were capable of, in acts and exercises of devotion. A great deal of what is said in the New Testament, by St. Paul in particular, about “rejoicing in the Lord, rejoicing in the Holy Ghost, rejoicing in hope, rejoicing in consolation, rejoicing in themselves, as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing," refer to the pleasure, and the high and spiritual comfort which they found in religious exercises. Much, I fear, of this spirit is fled. There is a coldness in our devotions, which argues a decay of religion amongst us. Is it true that men, in these days, perform religious exercises as frequently as they ought, or as those did who have gone before us in the Christian course? that is one question to be asked: but there is also another question of still greater importance, viz. do they find in these performances that gratification which the first and best disciples of the religion actually found? which they ought to find; and which they would find, did they possess the taste and relish concerning which we are discoursing, and which if they do not possess, they want one great proof of their heart being right towards God. If the spirit of prayer, as it is sometimes called, if the taste and relish for devotion, if a devotional frame of mind be within us, it will show itself in the turn and cast of our meditations, in the warmth, and earnestness, and frequency of our secret applications to God in prayer; in the deep, unfeigned, heart-piercing, heart-sinking sorrow of our confessions and our penitence; in the sincerity of our gratitude and of our praise; in our admiration of the divine bounty to his creatures; in our sense of particular mercies to ourselves. We shall pray much in secret. We shall address ourselves to God of our own accord, in our walks, our closet, our bed. Form, in these addresses, will be nothing. Every thing will come from the heart. We shall feed the flame of devotion by continually returning to the subject. No man, who is endued with the taste and relish we speak of, will have God long out of his mind. Under one view or other, God cannot be long out of a devout mind. "Neither was God in all his Man. Bishop Burnet, in speaking of such kind of books, very truly says, "By the frequent reading of these books, by the relish that one has in them, by the delight they give, and the effects they produce, a man divine matters, or not; what suitableness there is bewill plainly perceive whether his soul is made for tween him and them, and whether he is yet touched with such a sense of religion, as to be capable of dedi cating himself to it." |