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Christ, like their father Judas, are always upon the watch, and come upon it by stealth,' and 'in the night;' when works of darkness, and covert doings, may be best carried on. They bear its bag;' and, with its profits, which they appropriate to themselves, they mix the wages of treachery. It is true, they speak highly of our religion, and with some little respect of its author; yet they do almost the whole work of the adversary for him, by endeavouring to refute the divinity of our Saviour, and the satisfaction made by his death. The consequence of which is, that those who see both so strongly and frequently asserted in Scripture, looking however on both to be absurd and senseless doctrines, they quickly lay aside all respect for revelation. It is true, Christ might have been seized, and his religion may be attacked, by open enemies only; but the most expeditious and effectual way, in all such cases, is that of treachery. Accordingly those, who betray our religion, hail it' with a thousand encomiums; they kiss it' with a seeming affection for it; but point it, at the same time, to its enemies, whom they lead forward to destroy it. Where had the deist borrowed his hints and materials, if the Socinian, the Arian, and the preacher of new light, had not furnished him with them? How could any man have strode over the wide gulph between Christianity and absolute infidelity? This was too great a stretch at once; but the builders, just now mentioned, have erected a very convenient bridge, consisting of several arches, that reach from one side to the other. First, the divinity of Christ is to be disbelieved; then it is an easy matter to destroy the authority of the Scriptures, in which that doctrine is so copiously set forth: after this, the eternal law of nature may, for decency's sake, be adopted; because, as that is a law of a man's own dictating, or, at least, explaining, it will leave him at full liberty to do whatsoever his head, or heart, or any other part of his nature, more corrupt, if possible, prompts him to; that is, it will leave him a libertine and a deist. These are the men, with Judas at their head, against whom the woe in my text is denounced. These are the persons, who betray Christ's 'mystical body,' to a 'figurative cross,' erected for it by the loose and diabolical spirit of the times. These are the men, who dip in the dish with' Christ, often taking the fattest

bit to themselves; and, after getting all they can from him, with bellies filled at his table, go out and sell him to his most irreconcileable enemies. Had these men lived in the days of our Saviour himself, they would have done that to his person, which they now do to his church and religion; that is, they would have done what Judas did, and earned the wages of treachery then, as they now earn those of dissimulation and infidelity.

Those of Christ's disciples, who loved him most, as they were but men, being left to themselves, and struck with the terror of prisons, trials, and crosses, all forsook him,' and one of them forswore him. It is thus he is deserted in these times, by the generality of his followers; although all they have to fear, who would oppose the present prevailing heresies, and deceitful practices, of our false teachers, is very inconsiderable. They might miss of promotion; they might be out of the fashion; they might make themselves enemies; but still their persons and their fortunes would be safe; and therefore their suffering infidelity to triumph, without opposition, is deserting the cause of Christ, when they have little or nothing to fear in its defence; is sacrificing their master to slavish fears, and mere worldly views.

Thus is our blessed Master deserted by some, betrayed by others, and crucified afresh on all occasions. There is no need of one day in the year to commemorate his crucifixion, since our crying sins act that tragedy over again, and repeat it every day. If our lives and conversations are of such a nature as to do the utmost dishonour to our profession; if they only serve to expose religion to the reproaches and insults of infidels; if they put Christ to open. shame' before his enemies; it must then be owned we keep this anniversary as Jews, and not as Christians. The Jews and Romans looked upon Christ as a deceiver, and therefore they crucified him. But we know him to be the son of God, and our Redeemer, yet do the same. Thus we fill up the measure of their iniquity.' By their putting him to death, they fulfilled the prophecies, and were unwillingly the instruments of redemption to mankind. But our treachery and wickedness, so far as concerns ourselves, defeat all the ends of his coming, and give the lie to the prophecies, and our own professions. He chose the death he suf

fered at Jerusalem; and therefore power was given to his enemies from above.' But the death we put him to, is utterly against his will, and against the power of that Holy Spirit given us from above, to prevent our acting so unnatural a part. We are therefore rebels against God, as well as traitors to our Saviour, and destroyers of ourselves.

Let us not carry the cross of Christ only in order to nail him to it again. Let us rather crucify our corruptions and sins. Let us sacrifice the old man' to him who offered up himself for us.' Let us put on the new man,' and, by a new life and conversation, try to adorn our profession, to do honour to our infinite benefactor, and add strength to his body, by the accession of so many sound and wholesome members. If we really belong to Christ, and are thankful for what he hath done and suffered, let us no more grieve his Holy Spirit,' nor pierce his precious body with our sins. Let one Judas, and one crucifixion, suffice. Let Jews, and pagans, and infidels of all sorts, vilify his character, and deride his sufferings; but let us, who call ourselves by his blessed name, refute their cavils by our virtues; and shew, that he hath been indeed a Saviour to us, by delivering us from a sinful life, from an accusing conscience, and from a fearful death. Thus shall we offer the best argument in the world for our religion, and the most ignorant professor of it may put to silence its most artful and subtile opposers.

May God enable his word to produce these fruits in our hearts; and may he be graciously pleased to accept of them, through the merits of our blessed Saviour; to whom, with God the Father, and God the Holy Ghost, be all glory, and honour, all might, majesty, dignity, and dominion, now and for evermore. Amen.

DISCOURSE XLII.

THE CUNNING MAN.

JEREMIAH IX. 5.

They will deceive every one his neighbour, and will not speak the truth. They have taught their tongue to speak lies, and weary themselves to commit iniquity.

MAN Owes it to God, as his master, and to himself as a rational creature, so to direct, as far as in him lies, the main scope of his life, that, when he is summoned to appear before God, he may not find occasion to reproach himself, at least, with a general neglect of such opportunities, as God hath bestowed on him, to answer the true ends of living, and to promote his own real happiness.

Whether these two important purposes may be best answered by wisdom or cunning, or whether cunning and deceit may be allowed to have any share in such a work as this, of which God is to be the judge, will be worth our while to inquire. And that this inquiry may set out on clear and demonstrative grounds, it will be our business to begin with stating the true distinction between wisdom and cunning, and between their effects respectively.

There are but three things necessary to make a wise man; the first is, a clear and certain knowledge of his chief good, of the main end and happiness for which his nature was intended. If he neither knows in what his happiness consists, nor where it is placed, it is impossible, let his knowledge in other respects be what it will, that he should shape the course of his life, or aim his endeavours, at an end worthy of a reasonable being. Should he take his happiness to consist in that which it does not, he may employ the whole force of the strongest understanding, and the best abilities, in the pursuit of his own misery and ruin; at least he may lose himself and his labour in false appearances of good, or unhappily lay out both on good so inconsiderable, as to have no title to the main drift of his endeavours.

The second thing necessary to make a wise man, is a clear knowledge of the easiest and surest means whereby his true happiness may be arrived at. If he knows not this, the bare knowledge of his true happiness will only serve to make him the more miserable. A just title to a great estate is a most vexatious misfortune to any man, if he neither knows how to prove it, nor to get into possession.

The third thing necessary to make a wise man, is strength and resolution steadily to employ the means, without which, the important end he aims at cannot be attained to. If he wants this, his knowing wherein his happiness consists, and whereby it may be obtained, can answer no other purpose than to torment and afflict him. He is like the cripple at the pool of Bethesda, who eagerly desiring the use of his limbs, and knowing his cure lay in the water, could not however find means to get into the water, before it was too late.

The man, who knows not where his happiness is placed, cannot so much as direct his face towards it. He who knows this, but is ignorant of the means, cannot even set out on a journey towards it. And although he knows both perfectly well; yet, if the road, through these means, should be long and difficult, or he lazy and irresolute, it were as well, or better, for him to be wholly ignorant.

He who knows not what his true happiness consists in, is an ignorant man. He who neither knows it, nor will suffer himself to be taught it, is a stupid and obstinate man. He who knows it, but prefers somewhat else to it, and aims the main of his endeavours at the attainment of that somewhat, is a fool. He who makes this absurd preference, and chiefly labours for the attainment of something, in which his main happiness does not really consist; nay, who, not content with erring thus fundamentally against his own knowledge, pursues, as his chief good, the inferior end he proposes, not by the fair and natural means that lead to it, but by short cuts, and disingenuous arts, is a cunning man; that is, not only a fool, but a knave.

But still, more perfectly to conceive the nature of cunning, it will be proper to take it in another light. Nothing serves so clearly to distinguish it from true wisdom, as its remarkable short-sightedness. Cunning, in the conduct of our lives, consists mainly in a rash attachment to ends, and

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