gree of gross ignorance, he answered them all without passion or impatience, training them up by degrees to the events that were to happen after his decease, and to the high part they were destined then to act in the world.

How happy would it be for mankind, if more attention were given to this noble pattern of fidelity and complacency which ought to prevail among friends, and of the indulgence due to the failings of those who are, in their general character, worthy and estimable persons! This amiable indulgence he carried so far, that in one of the most critical seasons of his life, during his agony in the garden, when he had left his disciples for a short time, with a strict charge to watch till he should return, but upon his returning found them asleep, all the reproof which their negligence at so important a juncture, drew from him, was no more than this, What, could ye not watch with me for one hour?*-Of the tenderness of our Lord's affections, and the constancy of his friendship, we have a very memorable instance, in that mixture of friendship and filial piety which he discovered during the cruelty of his last sufferings. It is recorded, that when he hung upon the cross, beholding John his beloved disciple, and Mary his mother, standing as spectators below, he said to John, Behold thy mother; and to Mary, Behold thy son; thus committing his forlorn mother to the charge of his friend John, as the most sacred and honourable pledge he could leave him of their ancient friendship. The heart of his friend melted: and, from that hour, we are told, he took her home with him to his own house. It is John himself who has recorded to us this honourable testimony of his master's friendship.t

IV. THE example of Christ holds forth for our imitation his steady command of temper amidst the highest provocations, and his ready forgiveness of injuries. Though he had revenge always in his power, he constantly declined it. On one occasion, when his disciples wished him to call down fire from heaven to punish the inhospitality of the Samaritans, he turned and rebuked them, saying, ye know not what manner of spirit ye are of; for the Son of Man is not come to destroy men's lives, but to save them.‡ When he was reviled, he reviled not again; when he suffered he threatened not. The insults which he often received from a brutal multitude, had no power to alter the meekness and generosity of his disposition: he continued to beseech and entreat them, when they sought to chase him away from amongst them. When they accused him of being in confederacy with evil spirits, he answered their injurious defamation only with mild and calm reasoning, that if he by means of Satan did cast out Satan, his kingdom must be divided against itself, and could not stand. At his trial Lnke, ix. 55.

• Matth. xxvi. 40. † John, xix. 26, 27.

before the High Priest, when he was most injuriously treated, and contrary to all law was, in face of the court, struck by one of the High Priest's officers, what could be spoken more meekly and reasonably than his return to this usage, at a time when all circumstances concurred to exasperate the spirit of an innocent man; if I have spoken evil, bear witness of the evil: but if well, why smitest thou me ?*-When his enemies were completing the last scene of their cruelty in putting him to death, all their barbarous usage and scurrilous taunts on that occasion, provoked not one revengeful thought in his breast, nor drew from his lips one misbecoming expression; but on the contrary, the last accents of his expiring breath went forth in that affectionate prayer for their forgiveness; Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do!-Shall we, my friends, who have before our eyes such an example of generous magnanimity, of continued self-command amidst the most trying situations, not be ashamed of giving vent to passion on every trifling provocation, and fiercely demanding reparation for the smallest injury; we, who, from the remembrance of our own failings, have so many motives for mutual forbearance and forgiveness; while He, on the other hand, had done no wrong, had never given offence to any, but had the justest title to expect friendship from every human being?

V. LET us attend to the sympathy and compassion which our Lord discovered for the sufferings of mankind. It was not with a cold unfeeling disposition that he performed the office of relieving the distressed. His manner of bestowing relief clearly showed with what sensibility he entered into the sorrows of others. How affecting, for instance, is the account of his restoring to life the son of the widow of Nain, as it is related in the beautiful simplicity of the evangelical historian? When he came nigh to the gate of the city, behold, there was a dead man carried out, the only son of his mother; and she was a widow; and much people of the city was with her. All the circumstances in this incident are moving and affecting; and it presently appeared with what tender sensibility our Lord was touched at the sight of so mournful a procession. And when the Lord saw her, he had compassion on her, and said unto her, Weep not; and he came and touched the bier, (and they that bare him stood still,) and he said, Young man, I say unto thee, arise. And he that was dead, sat up, and began to speak; and he delivered him to his mother.t "The whole scene of raising Lazarus from the grave, places our Saviour's sympathy in the strongest light. As soon as he came among the mourning friends, although he knew the cause of their mourning was speedily to be removed, he could not for† Luke, vii. 12—16,

John, xviii. 27.

bear partaking of their sorrows; He groaned and was troubled in spirits; and when surrounded by a crowd of tears, he approached to the grave of his deceased friend, it is expressly recorded to the eternal honour of his feelings, Jesus wept; and the Jews said, Behold, how he loved him.*-In like manner, when, for the last time, he was about to enter into Jerusalem, though the certain knowledge of all the cruelties which were prepared for him there would have filled the breast of any ordinary person with indignation and hatred, instead of such emotions, the foresight of the direful calamities which hung over that devoted city, melted his heart; and when he drew near to it and beheld it, he wept ; pouring fourth that pathetic lamentation; O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the Prophets, and stonest them that are sent unto thee, how often would I have gathered thy children together, as a hen doth gather her brood under her wings, and ye would not! If thou hadst known, at least in this thy day, the things which belong unto thy peace, but now they are hid from thine eyes. Thus, as a man, he indulged all the amiable feelings of our nature, teaching us that is our duty to regulate our passions, not to extirpate them.

SUCH was Jesus of Nazareth, the founder of our religion. A part only of his character I have now attempted to delineate; many other of his eminent graces and virtnes have been left in the shade. But in what we have now contemplated of his behaviour as a man among men, we behold a perfect model of the conduct we ought to hold in the ordinary intercourse of society with one another. We have seen him attentive to every opportunity of being beneficent and useful; in his behaviour to all men, affable and obliging; to his friends, faithful and indulgent; to his enemies, generous and forgiving; to the distressed, full of tenderness and compassion. I might also have dwelt upon the peaceable spirit he displayed on all occasions; his respect, as a subject, to the civil laws and government of his country; discouraging a factious and mutinous spirit; paying tribute when demanded; exhorting his followers to render unto Cæsar the things which are Cæsar's, as unto God those which are God's. Enough has been said to shew what a blessing it would prove to the world, if this illustrious example were generally followed. Men would then become happy in all their connexions with one another.— This world would be a blessed dwelling; and the society of human beings on earth would approach to the joy and peace of the societies of the just in heaven.

⚫ John, xi. 35,

VOL. IT.

† Luke, xiii. 34, xix. 42.

36

SERMON LXXV.

ON THE WOUNDS OF THE HEART.

The spirit of a man will sustain his infirmity: but a wounded spirit who can bear?-PROVERBS, Xviii. 14.

THERE are two classes of goods and evils belonging to man; those which respect his corporeal, and those which respect his spiritual state. Whatever is of an external nature, is sufficiently the object of attention to all men. In the health and vigour of the body, and in the flourishing state of worldly fortune, all rejoice and whatever diminishes the one or the other is immediately felt and lamented. These are visable and striking objects, on which our senses and imagination are accustomed to dwell. But to procure an equal attention to what is inward and spiritual, is much more difficult. It is not easy to convince men that the soul hath interest of its own, quite distinct from those of the body, and is liable to diseases and wounds as real as any which the body suffers, and often much more grievous. What passes within the hearts of men, is always invisible in the public eye. If it be of the pleasing and satisfactory kind, they have no occasion to disclose it; and if it be of a painful nature it is often their intent to conceal it. In the mean time, the heart knoweth its own bitterness: and from its being secreted from public observation and concentrated within the breast, it is felt the more deeply.-The spirit of a man will sustain his infirmity; the natural vigour and courage of his mind may enable him to surmount the ordinary distresses of life; to bear with patience poverty, sickness, or pain, as long as he is conscious that all is right and sound with in. But if within him, the discase rankles in his mind and his heart; if that which should sustain him, serves only to gall and torment him; to what quarter can he then look for relief, or to what medicine apply, when

1

that which should have cured his other wounds is itself diseased and wounded? A wounded spirit who can bear?

The spirit or soul of man is wounded chiefly by three causes; by folly, by Passion, by Guilt.

I. IT is wounded by Folly; that is, by vain, light, and improper pursuits; by a conduct, which though it should not be immediately criminal, yet is unsuitable to one's age, character, or condition in the world. Good sense is no less requisite in our religious and moral behaviour, than it is in our worldly affairs. Whoever departs far from the plain track of sober and reasonable conduct, shall, sooner or later, undergo the consequences of a diseased and wounded spirit. It often happens, that under the notion of innocent pleasure and amusement, of only following their humour and indulging their taste, while, as they say, they hurt no man, and violate no material duty, many go on for a time, in a course of the most egregious follies, and all along conceive themselves to be, if not very virtuous, at least very inoffensive men, The case is the same with the diseases of the mind as with the diseases of the body. They lurk for a time unperceived. The seeds of them may be working within, while the person affected imagines himself to be in perfect health: but at length a crisis comes, which brings the secret venom forth, and makes all its malignity be felt.

In this age of dissipation and luxury in which we live, how many avenues are constantly open that lead to the Temple of Folly? To how many temptations are all, but especially the young and the gay, exposed, to squander their whole time amidst the circles of levity, and haunts of pleasure? By idleness and extravagance, and the vain ambition of emulating others in the splendid show of life, multitudes run into expense beyond their fortune. The time which should be employed in training them for future significance in the world, they lose in frivolous amusements and pursuits; or in the midst of these, bury the fruits of any good education they had already received. Idle associates are ever at hand to aid them in inventing new plans of destroying the time. If that fatal engine of mischief, the gaming table, then attracts and ensnars them, their career of folly will soon be completed; the gulf of destruction opens, and ruin is at hand.

Supposing some incident to befal as befal at some time it must, which shall awaken persons of this description from their dreams of vanity; which shall open their eyes to the time that they have mispent, and the follies which they have committed; then, alas! what mortifying and disquieting views of themselves will arise? How many galling remembrances will crowd upon their minds? They see their youth thrown away in dishonourable or trivial pursuits; those valuable opportunities which they once enjoyedof coming forward with distinction in the world, now irretrieya