reverence which is due to this ordinance of religion, and that which is due to other ordinances of God's appointment. Comparisons of this kind are generally improper; fometimes impious. But there may be fome duties of religion, a failure in which does not discover fo great corruption of heart, nor is accompanied with fo bitter remorfe as a failure in others and there may be fome duties of fuch a complicated nature, as to touch many of the feelings, and work on many of the affections of the heart at once; fo that an irreverent behaviour in the performance of them, may shock us more, and indicate a more abandoned character, and a more corrupted heart than the fame behaviour in the performance of other duties; though in these alfo it would be highly impious. For instance, in reading the word of God, if we willingly permit the cares, anxieties, and temptations of the world to intrude upon us, we are certainly guilty of a fin: but if we indulge the fame wandering and worldly difpofition in our immediate addreffes to God, we are guilty of a greater fin. Again, every address to God demands the most ferious and recollected temper. For a weak creature to stand

in

in the presence of the all-perfect God, to raife his foul to the contemplation of his wonderful nature, and at the fame time to think of him as his father and his friend, ought at once to elevate and compofe, to footh, and to expand the foul: and infenfibility, at the very time we seem to be employed in devotion, is furely highly criminal. Yet infenfibility or irreverence in the participation of the Lord's fupper, is more highly criminal. For this participation not only implies prayer, and that too animated by the most affecting confiderations, but also recalls to our mind a character and an event, which have the ftrongest tendency to work upon all the nobleft, and the most generous principles of our nature. In this fituation, irreverence difcovers a foul not only loft to piety, but almoft deprived of the common feelings of humanity.

Having premised these observations, I proceed to take notice of the causes which should engage Chriftians to confider the Lord's fupper as an ordinance extremely facred, and to regard it with peculiar reverence.

In the first place: I would obferve, that it is a positive inftitution of Christianity, appointed

Cc 4

pointed in very peculiar and affecting circumftances.

The pofitive inftitutions of the gospel have frequently been confidered merely as means to an end, not effentially neceffary, but fit and proper to be obferved. Perhaps this fentiment, under proper limitations, may be free

from error. But I do not fee, that the obfervation is very important. I can conceive a state, in which the performance of the positive duties of Chriftianity would not be binding, because in that state it might be impoffible to perform them. I can also conceive a ftate in which feveral moral duties may be lawfully omitted, nay, muft unavoidably be omitted, because there would be no fcope for the practice of them. But I can conceive no ftate in which a Chriftian can with a good confcience, omit either a moral, or a pofitive duty, if he has a proper opportu nity for performing it. Men may differ concerning the times and seasons proper for the obfervance of pofitive inftitutions, or they may differ in their opinion concerning the frequency of their repetition; but they may differ alfo concerning the extent and obligation of moral duties. We know that these depend

depend in fome measure upon particular characters, circumftances and opportunities. Thus much appeared neceffary for removing a prejudice against the reverence due to a positive inftitution of religion, which an incautious manner of expreffion may have fometimes occafioned. Let us now confider the particular circumftances and folemnity with which the inftitution prefently under confideration was appointed.

Our Saviour had gone with his difciples to celebrate the high festival of the Jews, He had given strong intimations of his immediate departure from his friends and followers. He had plainly told them, that he would not again partake in a feast which they probably thought was to continue through all generations. He had particularly informed them that, by the treachery of one of those few whom he had felected from the world, he was to be delivered into the hands of finners. This threw a general damp upon the company, and each anxious and forrowful for himself, faid, Is it I? His reply confirmed all their fears. It could not remove their concern for the lofs of their master, their friend, and their benefactor; nor was it fo

precife,

precife, as to remove from any of them all a fufpicion that his own fidelity was called in queftion: It is one of the twelve that dippeth with me in the difh. It is added, The Son of man indeed goeth, as it is written of him, but wo to that man, by whom the Son of man is betrayed! Good were it for that man if he had never been born. It was at this time, when the disciples could not fail to be in a state of the utmoft anxiety, agitation and defpondency, that our Saviour took the bread, and baving given thanks, brake it, and gave it to them, and faid, This is my body; and afterwards took the cup and and gave it to them with these remarkable words, This is my blood of the New Teftament, which is fhed for many. I alk any man, if this was not a fcene which must leave the deepest impreffion on the minds of the disciples? Could they have been men, especially confidering what followed, if they had ever forgot it? Can any thing, which tended to raise a greater variety of emotions and affections, be defcribed or conceived? Could there ever be a folemn meeting in which the Apostles and first Christians

were

b Mark xiv. 20. c ver, 21.

d ver. 22. e ver. 23, 24.