vantages; the second is-and which is the converse of the first-that a religious life is a servile and most uncomfortable state. The first breach which the devil made upon human innocence was by the help of the first of these suggestions, when he told Eve that by eating of the tree of knowledge she should be as God, that is, she should reap some high and strange felicity from doing what was forbidden her. But I need not repeat the success. Eve learnt the difference between good and evil by her transgression, which she knew not before; but then she fatally learnt, at the same time, that the difference was only this, that good is that which can only give the mind pleasure and comfort, and that evil is that which must necessarily be attended, sooner or later, with shame and sorrow. As the deceiver of mankind thus began his triumph over our race, so has he carried it on ever since by the very same argument of delusion; that is, by possessing men's minds early with great expectations of the present incomes of sin-making them dream of the wondrous gratifications they are to feel in following their appetites in a forbidden way-making them fancy that their own grapes yield not so delicious a taste as their neighbour's, and that they shall quench their thirst with more pleasure at his fountain than at their own. This is the opinion which at first too generally prevails, till experience and proper seasons of reflection make us all, at one time or other, confess that our counsellor has been (as from the beginning) an impostor, and that, instead of fulfilling these hopes of gain and sweetness in what is forbidden, on the contrary, every unlawful enjoyment leads only to bitterness and loss. The second opinion, or, that a religious life is a servile and uncomfortable state, has proved a no less fatal and capital false principle in the conduct of inexperience through life; the foundation of which mistake arises chiefly from this previous wrong judgment, that true happiness and freedom lies in a man's always following his own humour; that to live by moderate and prescribed rules is to live without joy; that not to prosecute our passions is to be cowards, and to forego everything for the tedious distance of a future life. Was it true that a virtuous man could have no pleasure but what should arise from that remote prospect, I own we are by nature so goaded on by the desire of present happiness, that was that the case, thousands would faint under the discouragement of so remote an expectation. But in the meantime the Scriptures give us a very different prospect of this matter. There we are told that the service of God is true liberty-that the yoke of Christianity is easy, in comparison with that yoke which must be brought upon us by any other system of living; and the text tells of wisdom, by which is meant religion, that it has pleasantness in its way, as well as glory in its end-that it will bring us peace and joy, such as the world cannot give. So that, upon examining the truth of this assertion, we shall be set right in this error, by seeing that a religious man's happiness does not stand at so tedious a distance, but is so present, and indeed so inseparable from him, as to be felt and tasted every hour; and of this even the vicious can hardly be insensible, from what he may perceive to spring up in his mind from any casual act of virtue. And though it is a pleasure that properly belongs to the good, yet let any one try the experiment, and he will see what is meant by that moral delight arising from the conscience of well-doing. Let him but refresh the bowels of the needy,—let him comfort the broken-hearted, or check an appetite, or overcome a temptation, or receive an affront with temper and meekness,-and he shall find the tacit praise of what he has done darting through his mind, accompanied with a sincere pleasure: conscience playing the monitor even to the loose and most inconsiderate in their most casual acts of well-doing, being like a voice whispering behind and saying, This is the way of pleasantness, this is the path of peace: walk in it. But, to do further justice to the text, we must look beyond this inward recompense which is always inseparable from virtue, and take a view of the outward advantages, which are as inseparable from it, and which the Apostle particularly refers to when 'tis said godliness has the promise of this life as well as that which is to come; and in this argument it is that religion appears in all its glory and strength-unanswerable in all its obligations; that, besides the principal work which it does for us in securing our future well-being in the other world, it is likewise the most effectual means to promote our present, and that not only morally, upon account of that reward which virtuous actions do entitle a man unto from a just and wise Providence, but by a natural tendency in themselves which the duties of religion have to procure us riches, health, reputation, credit, and all those things wherein our temporal happiness is thought to consist; and this not only in promoting the well-being of particular persons, but of public communities, and of mankind in general, agreeably to what the wise man has left us on record, that righteousness exalteth a nation: insomuch that could we, in considering this argument, suppose ourselves to be in a capacity of expostulating with God concerning the terms upon which we would submit to his government, and to choose the laws ourselves which we would be bound to observe, it would be impossible for the wit of man to frame any other proposals which, upon all accounts, would be more advantageous to our own interests than those very conditions to which we are obliged by the rules of religion and virtue. And in this does the reasonableness of Christianity and the beauty and wisdom of Providence appear most eminently towards mankind, in governing us by such laws as do most apparently tend to make us happy; and, in a word, in making that (in his mercy) to be our duty which in his wisdom he knows to be our interest, that is to say, what is most conducive to the ease and comfort of our mind, the health and strength of our body, the honour and prosperity of our state and condition, the friendship and goodwill of our fellow-creatures,to the attainment of all which no more effectual means can possibly be made use of than that plain direction-to lead an uncorrupted life, and to do the thing which is right, to use no deceit in our tongue, nor do evil to our neighbour. For the better imprinting of which truth in your memories, give me leave to offer a few things to your consideration. The first is, that justice and honesty contribute very much towards all the faculties of the mind: I mean that it clears up the understanding from that mist which dark and crooked designs are apt to raise in it, and that it keeps up a regularity in the affections, by suffering no lusts or by-ends to disorder them; that it likewise preserves the mind from all damps of grief and melancholy, which are the sure consequences of unjust actions; and that, by such an improvement of the faculties, it makes a man so much the abler to discern, and so much the more cheerful, active, and diligent to mind, his business. Light is sown for the righteous, says the prophet, and gladness for the upright in heart. Secondly, let it be observed that, in the continuance and course of a virtuous man's affairs, there is little probability of his falling into considerable disappointments or calamities; not only because guarded by the providence of God, but that honesty is, in its own nature, the freest from danger. First, because such an one lays no projects which it is the interest of another to blast, and therefore needs no indirect methods or deceitful practices to secure, his interest by undermining others. The paths of virtue are plain and straight, so that the blind, persons of the meanest capacity, shall not err. Dishonesty requires skill to conduct it, and as great art to conceal-what 'tis every one's interest to detect. And I think I need not remind you how oft it happens, in attempts of this kind, where worldly men, in haste to be rich, have overrun the only means to it; and for want of laying their contrivances with proper cunning, or managing them with proper secrecy and advantage, have lost for ever what they might have certainly secured by honesty and plain-dealing;-the general causes of the disappointments in their business, or of unhappiness in their lives, lying but too manifestly in their own disorderly passions, which, by attempting to carry them a shorter way to riches and honour, disappoint them of both for ever, and make plain their ruin is from themsclves, and that they eat the fruits which their own hands have watered and ripened. Consider, in the third place, that, as the religious and moral man (one of which he cannot be without the other) not only takes the surest course for success in his affairs, but is disposed to procure a help which never enters into the thoughts of a wicked one; for, conscious of upright intentions, he can look towards heaven, and with some assurance recommend his affairs to God's blessing and direction; whereas the fraudulent and dishonest man dares not call for God's blessing upon his designs, or, if he does, he knows it is in vain to expect it. Now, a man who believes that he has God on his side acts with another sort of life and courage than he who knows he stands alone, like Esau, with his hand against every man, and every man's hand against his. The eyes of the Lord are upon the righteous, and his ears are open to their cry; but the face of the Lord is against them that do evil. Consider, in the fourth place, that in all good governments, who understand their own interest, the upright and honest man stands much fairer for preferment, and much more likely to be employed in all things when fidelity is wanted: for all men, however the case stands with themselves, love at least to find honesty in those they trust; nor is there any usage we more hardly digest than that of being outwitted and deceived. This is so true an observation, that the greatest knaves have no other way to get into business but by counterfeiting honesty, and pretending to be what they are not; and when the imposture is discovered, as it is a thousand to one but it will, I have just said what must be the certain consequence: for when such an one falls, he has none to help him; so he seldom rises again. This brings us to a fifth particular, in vindication of the text,-that a virtuous man has this strong advantage on his side (the reverse of the last), that the more and the longer he is known, so much the better he is loved, so much the more trusted; so that his reputation and his fortune have a gradual increase; and if calamities or cross accidents should bear him down (as no one stands out of their reach in this world)—if he should fall, who would not pity his distress? who would not stretch forth his hand to raise him from the ground?-Wherever there was virtue, he might expect to meet a friend and a brother. And this is not merely speculation, but fact, confirmed by numberless examples in life, of men falling into misfortunes, whose character and tried probity have raised them helps, and bore them up, when every other help has forsook them. Lastly, to sum up the account of the temporal advantages which probity has on its side, let us not forget that greatest of all happiness, which the text refers to, in the expression of all its paths being peace,-peace and content of mind, arising from the consciousness of virtue, which is the true and only foundation of all earthly satisfaction; and where that is wanting, whatever other enjoyments you bestow upon a wicked man, they will as soon add a cubit to his stature as to his happiness. In the midst of the highest entertainments, this, like the hand-writing upon the wall, will be enough to spoil and disrelish the feast; but much more so when the tumult and hurry of delight is over, when all is still and silent, when the sinner has nothing to do but attend its lashes and remorses: and this, in spite of all the common arts of diversion, will be often the case of every wicked man; for we cannot live always upon the stretch; our faculties will not bear constant pleasure any more than constant pain; there will be some vacancies, and, when there are, they will be sure to be filled with uncomfortable thoughts and black reflections. So that, setting aside the great afterreckoning, the pleasures of the wicked are overbought, even in this world. XXIX.-OUR CONVERSATION IN HEAVEN. 'For our conversation is in heaven.'-PaIL, III. 20, first part. THESE words are the conclusion of the account which St. Paul renders of himself, to justify that particular part of his conduct and proceeding-his leaving so strangely and deserting his Jewish rites and ceremonies, to which he was known to have been formerly so much attached, and in defence of which he had been so warmly and so remarkably engaged. This, as it had been matter of provocation against him amongst his own countrymen the Jews, so was it no less an occasion of surprise to the Gentiles, that a person of his great character, interest, and reputation,-one who was descended from a tribe of Israel deeply skilled in the professions, and zealous in the 'observances of the straitest sect of that religion,'-who had their tenets instilled into him from his tender years, under the institution of the ablest masters,- -a Pharisee himself, the son of a Pharisee, and brought up I conclude with one observation upon the at the feet of Gamaliel,— -one that was so deeply whole of this argument, which is this: : Notwithstanding the great force with which it has been often urged by good writers, there are many cases which it may not reach, wherein vicious men may seem to enjoy their portion of this life, and live as happy, and fall into as few troubles, as other men; and therefore it is prudent not to lay more stress upon this argument than it will bear; but always remember to call in to our aid that great and more unanswerable argument which will answer the most doubtful cases which can be stated, and that is the certainty of a future life, which Christianity has brought to light. However men may differ in their opinions of the usefulness of virtue for our present purposes, no one was ever so absurd as to deny it served our best and our last interest, when the little interests of this life were at an end upon which consideration we should always lay the great weight which it is fittest to bear, as the strongest appeal and most unchangeable motive that can govern our actions at all times. However, as every good argument on the side of religion should in proper times be made use of, it is fit sometimes to examine this, by proving virtue is not even destitute of a present reward, but carries in her hand a sufficient recompense for all the self-denials she may occasion: she is pleasant in the way, as well as in the end; her ways being ways of pleasantness, and all her paths peace. But it is her greatest and most distinguished glory that she befriends us hereafter, and brings us peace at the last; and this is a portion she can never be disinherited of,-which may God of his mercy grant us all, for the sake of Jesus Christ. interested, and an accessory in the persecution of another religion, just then newly come up,-a religion to which his whole sect, as well as himself, had been always the bitterest and most inveterate enemies, and were constantly upbraided as such by the first founder of it ;-that a person so beset and hemmed in with interests and prejudices on all sides, should, after all, turn proselyte to the very religion he had hated! -a religion, too, under the most universal contempt of any then in the world,-the chiefs and leaders of it men of the lowest birth and education, without any advantages of parts or learning, or other endowments to recommend them;-that he should quit and abandon all his former privileges, to become merely a fellow-labourer with these,-that he should give up the reputation he had acquired amongst his brethren by the study and labours of a whole life,—that he should give up his friends, his relations and family, from whom he estranged and banished himself for life,-this was an event so very extraordinary, so odd and unaccountable, that it might well confound the minds of men to answer for it. It was not to be accounted for upon the common rules and measures of proceeding in human life. The Apostle, therefore, since no one else could do it so well for him, comes in this chapter to give an explanation why he had thus forsaken so many worldly advantages, which was owing to a greater and more unconquerable affection to a better and more valuable interest; that in the poor persecuted faith, which he had once reproached and destroyed, he had now found such a fulness of divine grace, such un fathomable depths of God's infinite mercy and love towards mankind, that he could think nothing too much to part with in order to his embracing Christianity; nay, he accounted all things but loss-that is, less than nothing-for the excellency of the knowledge of Jesus Christ. hereafter, that it is not morally only, but physically, impossible for it to be happy; and that an impure and polluted soul is not only unworthy of so pure a presence as the Spirit of God, but even incapable of enjoying it, could it be admitted. And here, not to feign a long hypothesis, as some have done, of a sinner's being admitted into heaven, with a particular description of his condition and behaviour there, we need only consider that the supreme good, like any other good, is of a relative nature, and consequently the enjoyment of it must require some qualification in the faculty, as well as the enjoyment of any other good does: there must be something antecedent in the disposition and temper, which will render that good a good to that individual; otherwise, though (it is true) it may be possessed, yet it never can be enjoyed. Preach to a voluptuous epicure, who knows of no other happiness in this world but what rises from good eating and drinking,—such a one, in the Apostle's language, whose god is his belly,-preach to him of the abstractions of the soul; tell of its flights and brisker motion in the pure regions of immensity; represent to him that saints and angels eat not, but that the spirit of a man lives for ever upon wisdom and holiness, and heavenly contemplations ;-why, the only effect would be that the fat glutton would stare awhile upon the preacher, and in a few minutes fall fast asleep. No; if you would catch his attention, and make him take in your discourse greedily, you must preach to him out of the Alcoran-talk of the raptures of sensual enjoyments, and of the pleasures of the per The Apostle, after this apology for himself, proceeds, in the second verse before the text, to give a very different representation of the worldly views and sensual principles of other pretending teachers, who had set themselves up as an example for men to walk by, against whom he renews this caution: For many walk, of whom I have told you often, and now tell you even weeping, that they are the enemies to the cross of Christ: whose end is destruction, whose god is their belly, and whose glory is in their shame, who mind earthly things-govores relish them, making them the only object of their wishes, taking aim at nothing better and nothing higher.-But our conversation, says he in the text, is in heaven. We Christians, who have embraced a persecuted faith, are governed by other considerations, have greater and nobler views. Here we consider ourselves only as pilgrims and strangers. Our home is in another country, where we are continually tending: there our hearts and affections are placed; and, when the few days of our pilgrimage shall be over, there shall we return, where a quiet habitation and a perpetual rest is designed and prepared for us for ever. Our conversation is in heaven, from whence, says he, we also look for the Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ, who shall change our vile body, that it may be fashioned like unto his glorious body, according to thepetual feasting, which Mahomet has described; working whereby he is able to subdue all things unto him. It is observable that St. Peter represents the state of Christians under the same image, of strangers on earth, whose city and proper home is heaven: he makes use of that relation of citizens of heaven as a strong argument for a pure and holy life; beseeching them as pilgrims and strangers here, as men whose interests and connections are of so short a date and so trifling a nature, to abstain from fleshly lusts, which war against the soul, that is, unfit it for its heavenly country, and give it a disrelish to the enjoyment of that pure and spiritualized happiness of which that region must consist, wherein there shall in no wise enter anything that defileth, neither whatsoever worketh abomination. The Apostle tells us that without holiness no man shall see God; by which no doubt he means that a virtuous life is the sole medium of happiness and terms of salvation, which can only give us admission into heaven. But some of our divines carry the assertion further, that without holiness,-without some previous similitude, wrought in the faculties of the mind, corresponding with the nature of the purest of beings, who is to be the object of our fruition there you touch upon a note which awakens and sinks into the inmost recesses of his soul; without which, discourse as wisely and abstractedly as you will of heaven, your representations of it, however glorious and exalted, will pass like the songs of melody over an ear incapable of discerning the distinction of sounds. We see, even in the common intercourses of society, how tedious it is to be in the company of a person whose humour is disagreeable to our own, though perhaps, in all other respects, of the greatest worth and excellency. How then can we imagine that an ill-disposed soul, whose conversation never reached to heaven, but whose appetites and desires, to the last hour, have grovelled upon this unclean spot of earth;-how can we imagine it should hereafter take pleasure in God, or be able to taste joy or satisfaction from his presence, who is so infinitely pure that he even putteth no trust in his saints-nor are the heavens themselves (as Job says) clean in his sight? The consideration of this has led some writers so far as to say, with some degree of irreverence in the expression, that it was not in the power of God to make a wicked man happy, if the soul was separated from the body, with all its vicious habits and inclinations unreformed; which thought a very able divine in our church has pursued so far as to declare his belief, that could the happiest mansion in heaven be supposed to be allotted to a gross and polluted spirit, it would be so far from being happy in it, that it would do penance there to all eternity: by which he meant it would carry appetites along with it, for which there could be found no suitable objects. A sufficient cause for constant torment; for those that it found there would be so disproportioned, that they would rather vex and upbraid it than satisfy its wants. This, it is true, is mere speculation, and what concerns us not to know;-it being enough for our purpose that such an experiment is never likely to be tried; that we stand upon different terms with God; that a virtuous life is the foundation of all our happiness; that as God has no pleasure in wickedness, neither shall any evil dwell with him; and that, if we expect our happiness to be in heaven, we must have our conversation in heaven, whilst upon earth-make it the frequent subject of our thoughts and meditations--let every step we take tend that way, every action of our lives be conducted by that great mark of the prize of our high calling, forgetting those things which are behind-forgetting this worlddisengaging our thoughts and affections from it, and thereby transforming them to the likeness of what we hope to be hereafter. How can we expect the inheritance of the saints in light upon other terms than what they themselves obtained? Can that body expect to rise and shine in glory that is a slave to lust, or dies in the fiery pursuit of an impure desire? Can that heart ever become the lightsome seat of peace and joy that burns hot as an oven with anger, rage, envy, lust, and strife, full of wicked imaginations, set only to devise and entertain evil? Can that flesh appear in the last day, and inherit the kingdom of heaven in the glorified strength of perpetual youth, that is now clearly consumed in intemperance, sinks in the surfeit of continual drunkenness and gluttony, and then tumbles into the grave, and almost pollutes the ground that is under it? Can we reasonably suppose that head shall ever wear or become the crown of righteousness and peace in which dwells nothing but craft and avarice, deceit, and fraud, and treachery-which is always plodding upon worldly designs, racked with ambition, rent asunder with discord, ever delighting in mischief to others and unjust advantages to itself? Shall that tongue, which is the glory of a man when rightly directed, be ever set to God's heavenly praises, and warble forth the harmonies of the blessed, that is now full of cursing and bitterness, backbiting and slander, under which is ungodliness and vanity, and the poison of asps? Can it enter into our hearts even to hope that these hands can ever receive the reward of righteousness that are full of blood, laden with the wages of iniquity, of theft, rapine, violence, extortion, or other unlawful gain? or that those feet shall ever be beautiful upon the mountains of light and joy that were never shod for the preparation of the gospel, that have run quite out of the way of God's word, and made haste only to do evil? No, surely. In this sense, he that is unjust, let him be unjust still; and he which is filthy, let him be filthy still. So inconsistent is the whole body of sin with the glories of the celestial body that shall be revealed hereafter, that, in proportion as we fix the representation of these glories upon our minds, and in the more numerous particulars we do it, the stronger the necessity as well as persuasion to deny ourselves all ungodliness and worldly lusts, to live soberly, righteously, and godly in this present world, as the only way to entitle us to that blessedness spoken of in the Revelations, of those who do his commandments, and have a right to the tree of life, and shall enter into the gates of the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to an innumerable company of angels, to the general assembly and church of the firstborn, that are written in heaven, and to God the judge of all, and to the spirits of just men made perfect, who have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. May God give us grace to live under the perpetual influence of this expectation, that, by the habitual impression of these glories upon our imaginations, and the frequent sending forth our thoughts and employing them on the other world, we may disentangle them from this, and, by so having our conversation in heaven whilst we are here, we may be thought fit inhabitants for it hereafter; that, when God at the last day shall come with thousands and ten thousands of his saints to judge the world, we may enter with them into happiness, and with angels and archangels, and all the company of heaven, we may praise and magnify his glorious name, and enjoy his presence for ever. XXX.-DESCRIPTION OF THE WORLD. 'Seeing, then, that all these things shall be dissolved, what manner of persons ought ye to be in all holy conversation and godliness? looking and hastening unto the coming of God.'-2 PETER III. 11. THE subject upon which St. Peter is discoursing in this chapter is the certainty of Christ's coming to judge the world; and the words of the text are the moral application he draws from the representation he gives of it, in which, in answer to the cavils of the scoffers in the latter days concerning the delay of his coming, |