the glory, that shall be revealed." "It is, out of all calculation, and comparison, and proportion, above and more than any human works can possibly deserve. To what, then, are we to ascribe it, that endeavours after virtue should procure, and that they will, in fact, procure to those, who sincerely exert them, such immense blessings; to what, but to the voluntary bounty of a God, who, in his inexpressible good pleasure, has appointed it so to be? The benignity of God towards man hath made him this inconceivably advantageous offer. But a most kind offer may still be a conditional offer. And this, though an infinitely gracious and beneficial offer, is still a conditional offer; and the performance of the conditions is as necessary, as if it had been an offer of mere retribution. The kindness, the bounty, the generosity of the offer do not make it less necessary to perform the conditions, but more so. A conditional offer may be infinitely kind on the part of the benefactor, who makes it, may be infinitely beneficial to those, to whom it is made; if it be from a prince or a governour, may be infinitely gracious and merciful on his part; and yet,, being conditional, the condition is as necessary, as if the offer had been no more, than that of scanty wages by a hard task-master.

In considering this matter in general, the whole of it appears to be very plain; yet, when we apply the consideration to religion, there are two mistakes, into which we are very liable to fall. The first is, that, when we hear so much of the exceedingly great kindness of the offer, we are apt to infer, that the conditions, upon which it was made, will not be exacted. Does that at all follow? Because the offer, even with these conditions, is represented to be the fruit of love, and mercy, and kindness, and is, in truth, so, and is most justly so to be accounted, does it follow, that the conditions of the offer are

not necessary to be performed? This is one errour, into which we slide, against which we ought to guard ourselves most diligently; for it is not simply false in its principle, but most pernicious in its application; its application always being to countenance us in some sin, which we will not relinquish.

The second mistake is, that, when we have performed the conditions, or think, that we have performed them, or when we endeavour to perform the conditions, on which the reward is offered, we forthwith attribute our obtaining the reward to this our performance or endeavour, and not to that, which is the beginning, and foundation, and cause of the whole, the true and proper cause, viz. the kindness and bounty of the original offer. This turn of thought, likewise, as well as the other, it is necessary to warn you against. For it has these consequences: it damps our gratitude to God; it takes off our attention from him. Some, who allow the necessity of good works to salvation, are not willing, that they should be called conditions of salvation. But this, I think, is a distinction, too refined for common christian apprehension. If they be necessary to salvation, they are conditions of salvation, so far as I can see."

I can add nothing to the simplicity, or perspicuity of these statements. I will only, therefore, beg you to remember, that the grace, and mercy of God, in the salvation of men, so far from diminishing the necessity or the obligations of holiness, constitute, in fact, the strongest obligations and motives to christians to lead a life of unreserved and grateful virtue; otherwise they are treasuring up for themselves wrath against the day of wrath, by despising the riches of God's forbearance, and neglecting this great salvation.

TWO MEN WENT UP INTɔ the templE TO PRAY; THE ONE A PHARISEE, AND THR OTHER A PUBLICAN.

CONFESSION of our sins, and humiliation on account of them, are not duties, which belong exclusively to our prayers. But, if ever the sense of our unworthiness ought to take full possession of the soul, it is, when we stand in the presence of God, when, after acknowledging his purity, and contemplating his bounty, we turn to the consideration of the sinfulness of our hearts, the ingratitude of our conduct, and the poverty of our best services. It is, however, much to be feared, that, in our intercourse with God, as well as with one another, we are not always thoroughly honest. Accustomed, as we are, to put on our best dress, and keep back our deficiencies in our conversation with mankind, especially when we are ourselves the subjects of it, there is much reason to suspect, that we sometimes carry, either our vanity, or our equivocation and concealment, to the foot of the mercy seat, and there, as well as in the world, we think to appear better than we are. Sometimes our confession of sins degenerates into an act of customary formality,

or, what is far more dreadful, we confess them, that we may recommence, with a lighter heart, the career of transgression. To correct these dangerous errours, and to assist you in the performance of this part of duty, let us attend to the following instructive parable.

Two men went up into the temple to pray; the one a Pharisee, the other a Publican. The gates of the sanctuary are thrown open for the admission of all, who choose to enter its courts. The foot of the bypocrite does not stumble at the threshold; nor are the uplifted hands of the profane and polluted blasted and withered in the midst of their devotions. Even now, these walls enclose, with equal security, the devout and the dissembling, the humble and the haughty, the Publican and the Pharisee. In man's undiscerning eye, the incense of their prayers seems to mingle; but, through this cloud of disguises, the eye of heaven pierces into the intention, and explores the heart, which we are not allowed to penetrate or judge. The duties of the Lord's day have summoned us here, my friends, as usual; and we agree to bar out, for a time, the importunate cares, and not less importunate gayeties of the week. God knows the spirit of our prayers; and it may be well for us to remember, that, of the two men, who went up to the temple to pray, one went down to his house justified, rather than the other; they returned as they came, one a Pharisee, the other a Publican.

The Pharisee, continues the parable, stood and prayed thus with himself: "God, I thank thee, I am not, as other men are; extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even as this publican." You are, perhaps, surprised to find, that a sentiment of this nature should have gained a place in the prayers even of a Pharisee. But out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks, even at the footstool of the Almighty; and the man, who has been fond of comparing

his own advantages and attainments with the imperfections and disadvantages of his inferiours in life, will be little disposed to humble himself in the presence of his God. My friends, we never shall acquire a fair knowledge of ourselves, if this is the method we take to form the estimate; for who cannot find many in the circle of his acquaintance, with whom, in some respect, he will not suffer by comparison? When you consider, then, how inclined we all are, however unconsciously, to compare ourselves with those in the same rank or occupation of life, and when we observe, also, that every man is naturally most intimate with those, whose moral taste and attainments are of a rank with his own, have we not some reason to suspect, that the spirit, if not the language of the Pharisee have sometimes mingled with our prayers, and checked that humility, with which they ought ever to be accompanied?

But let us carefully trace the workings of this Pharisee's mind. He first thanks his God, that he is not, as other men are, an extortioner. He had not wrung from his debtors their hard earnings, nor snatched the bread from their children's mouths, nor left the parents to pine away in the cold damps of a dungeon. He had always been contented with sober gains. To the Publicans he had cheerfully left the collection of a hateful tribute; therefore, he had been guilty of none of the extortions and oppressions of office, concerned in no usurious contracts, or cruel impositions. He was surprisingly free from sins, which he had neither opportunity nor temptation to commit; and, with this wondrous purity, he comes into the temple of his God to indulge his self-complacency!

He next is thankful, that he is not an adulterer. He has not been willing to run the dangerous risk of being stoned to death by the laws of Moses, of which he was, perhaps, a constituted expositor; and for this, too, he thanks his God.