AN APPENDIX TO THE MONTHLY REVIEW. VOLUME the THIRTEENTH. ART. LVII. Several Difcourfes preached at the Temple church. By Thomas Sherlock, D. D. late Master of the Temple. Now Lord Bishop of London. Vol. III. 8vo. 5s. Whif ton, Owen, &c. Twell HE character of this able and admired author is fo well known, and his works are fo univerfally read, that we may very well fpare ourselves the trouble of faying any thing concerning either his abilities or manner of writing, by way of introduction to our account of thefe difcourfes; we shall therefore proceed directly to lay before our readers a fhort view of each of them. In the first difcourfe his lordfhip points out the feveral temptations which men lie under, to liften to those who set up for teachers of infidelity and irreligion; who spend their coolest hours, and their calmeft thoughts, in this fervice; are maliciously diligent to pervert men from the acknowlegement of the truth; and, by the very arms of heaven, reafon, and understanding, to enlarge the bounds of the kingdom of darkness. Wicked and profligate men, he obferves, are under fome temptation, from felf-intereft, to wifh well to the caufe of infidelity, in oppofition to both natural and revealed religion; APPEND. Vol. XIII. Ii be 6 because it fets them free from the fears of futurity, and delivers them from the inany uneafy thoughts that attend them in all their vicious pleasures and enjoyments. • To live at once,' fays he, under the dominion of our paffions, and the rebuke of our minds, to be perpetually doing what we are per'petually condemning, is of all others the most wretched condition and it is no wonder that any man should strive to be delivered from it, or that those who refolve to enjoy the pleasure of fin here, fhould wish to be delivered from the fear of punishment hereafter. This, then, is a very great temptation to men to hope, that all their fears are falfe and ill-grounded; and that religion, from whence they flow, is nothing but the cunning of wife men, and the fimplicity of ⚫ weak ones. Since therefore the fears and apprehenfions of guilt are fuch strong motives to infidelity, the innocence of the heart is abfolutely neceffary to preferve the freedom of the mind which, if duly weighed, is a good reason why a man, as long as he finds himself swayed by appetite and the pleasures of vice, fhould fufpect his own judgment in a • matter where his reafon is fo abfolutely chained down by paffion and intereft, and difabled from exerting itself to do its proper work and office. • Confider too; in the most unhappy circumftances of fin and guilt, religion opens to us a much fafer and more certain retreat, than infidelity can poffibly afford; and will more effectually extinguifh the fears and torments we labour under, and reftore the long-forgotten peace and tranquility of the mind: for, after all the pains we can take with ourfelves to close up our minds, and to shut out the belief of a fuperior over-ruling power, and of a future ftate of rewards and punishments, we cannot be fecure of enjoying long even the comfort we propose to ourselves from it in this life. We may not always have ftrength enough to fubdue natural fenfe and reason. Any fudden fhock, either in our health ❝or in our fortune, will difperfe our animal fpirits, and all the gay imaginations which attend them, and give us up once again to the cruel torments of cool thought and reflec tion. Then will our fears rally their forces, and return upon ⚫ us with double ftrength: hell and damnation will conftantly ⚫ play before our eyes, and not fuffer the leaft glimpse of comfort to enter, nor leave us courage to repent of our fins, or to fly to our last and only hope, the mercy of God.' But as all who profess themselves unbelievers are not to be charged with uncommon degrees of wickedness, his lordship obferves farther, that there is another temptation to infidelity, to which many daily facrifice the innocence and integrity of their minds, namely, an affectation of being thought wifer and more knowing than the reft of mankind; a strong defire of recommending themfelves to the world, as perfons of nice difcernment, and more than ordinary penetration. And indeed every man's experience may furnish him with inftances that bear witness to the truth of this obfervation: it is this fort of vanity undoubtedly, which has furnished the world with fceptics in every fcience, and in religion above all others. Other sciences are the attainments of but a fmall part of mankind; and to triumph over their errors is but a limited glory: whereas, religion being the general perfuafion of the world, to conquer in this caufe, as our author well expreffes it, looks like univerfal monarchy, and feems to be the very empire of wisdom and knowlege, rifing out of the ruins of univerfal ignorance and fuperftition. And thus it comes to pass, that weak and vain men often make profeffion of greater infidelity than in truth they are guilty of, and are content to give the lie to their own reafon, as well as that of all mankind, rather than to lofe the credit of differing from the rcft of the world. There is one fort of temptation more, which his lordship briefly mentions: it is a kind of falfe fhame, which often, in young people especially, prevails over the fear of God, and the fenfe of religion. When they find what honour is often done to unbelievers, and how well they are received, whilst religion fuffers under the hard names of ignorance and fuperftition, they grow afhamed of their profeffion; and, if not really, yet affectedly, they put on the fashionable air of dif regard to every thing that is ferious. By degrees they harden, till, from being afhamed to own God, they grow bold enough to deny him, encouraged by example and precept to brave his utmoft vengeance. After pointing out the most common temptations which betray men into the company and friendship of unbelievers, those inftructors, which, in the words of his text, cause to err from the words of knowlege, he goes on to confider the danger there is in liftning to them. And here he only addreffes himself to fuch as have not yet made fhipwreck of reason and confcience; for, tho' the hardened unbelievers are in the greatest danger, they are yet fartheft removed from the power of conviction. As for those who have not yet renounced their God and their Redeemer; those especially, whose easy fortunes, or flourishing years, expofe them to the temptations of crafty finners, he expoftulates the cafe with them, with all the feriouf I i 2 ne.s nefs the fubject requires, and concludes his excellent discourse in the following pathetic manner. Could I reprefent to you,' fays he, the different states of good and bad men: could I give you the profpect which the bleffed martyr St. Stephen had, and fhew you the blessed Jefus at the right hand of God, furrounded with angels, and the fpirits of just men made perfect: could I open your ears to hear the never-ceafing hymns of praife, which the • blessed above fing to him that was, and is, and is to come; to the lamb that was flain, but liveth for ever: could I lead you through the unbounded regions of eternal day, and fhew the • mutual and ever-blooming joys of faints, who are at reft from their labour, and live for ever in the presence of God! Or, could I change the fcene, and unbar the iron gates of hell, and carry you through folid darknefs, to the fire that never goes out, and to the worm that never dies: could I fhew you the apoftate angels faft bound in eternal chains, or the fouls of wicked men overwhelmed with torment and despair: could I open your ears to hear the deep itself groan with • the continual cries of mifery; cries which can never reach the throne of mercy, but return in fad echoes, and add even to the very horrors of hell! Could I thus fet before you the different ends of religion and infidelity, you would want no other proof to convince you, that nothing can recompense the hazard men run of being for ever miserable through unbelief. But, tho' neither the tongues of men nor of angels can exprefs the joys of heaven, or defcribe the pains of hell, yet, if there be any truth in religion, these things are certain, and near at hand. • Confider, therefore, with yourfelves, that when you judge of religion, fomething more depends upon your choice than the credit of your judgment, or the opinion of the world. For God's fake! think religion at leaft fo ferious a thing, as to deferve your cooleft thoughts, and not fit to be determined in your hours of gaity and leisure, or in the accidental converfation of public places. Truft yourself with yourself; retreat from the influence of diffolute companions; and take the advice of the holy pfalmift, Stand in awe, and fin not; commune with your own heart, and in your chamber, and be ftill!' In the fecond discourse his lordship fhews the reafon of what our Saviour fays, Luke xvi. 31. If they hear not Mofes and the prophets, &c. from the following confiderations. Firft, if the evidence of revelation be in itself greater, and more convincing, than the evidence given by one from the dead can pof 4 fibly fibly be, then there is no reason to expect that he who rejects the greater fhould fubmit to the lefs authority. Secondly, if the objections which the unbeliever makes ufe of against the authority of revelation, lie ftronger against the authority of one coming from the dead, it is not to be fuppofed, that he will pass over that in one cafe, which he fo mightily ftumbles at in the other. Or, thirdly, if unbelief be the effect of a vitiated and corrupted mind, which hates to be reformed; which rejects the evidence, because it will not admit the doctrine; not the doctrine, because it cannot admit the evidence; in this cafe all proofs will be alike, and it will be loft labour to ply fuch a man with reafon or new evidence, fince it is not want of reafon or evidence that makes him an unbeliever. It is upon this laft cafe chiefly, we are told, that our Saviour grounds his judgment in the text. In the third difcourse he takes occafion to fhew, from thefe words of the pfalmift, Who can understand his errors, &c. that the fecurity and efficacy of repentance do not depend upon a particular recollection of all our errors; and that for fuch errors as we cannot recollect, a general confeffion and repentance are full and fufficient. In the fourth difcourfe he confiders what kind of words they are, which our Saviour tells us we must give an account of at the day of judgment. And firft, idle words, he fays, may denote words which proceed either from the vanity or the deceitfulness of men's minds; and this sense will take in all the empty boaftings and great pretences of vanity and pride, and all the fly infinuations of craft and hypocrify. Secondly, idle words may comprehend the reports which proceed oftentimes from mere curiofity, and a defire of hearing and telling news, by which our neighbour fuffers in his credit and reputation. Thirdly, they may imply fuch words as are the impure conceptions of a polluted mind, which often pafs for wit and entertainment among those who have learned to make a mock of fin. Laitly, they may fignify ufelefs and infignificant words. This fenfe,' fays he, will 'comprehend a great part of the converfation of the world, ⚫ which aims at nothing but prefent amufements; as if it were the business of a rational creature to divert his mind from thought and reflection. How far words of this kind, when ⚫ attended with no other evil, may expofe a man to guilt, is not eafily difcerned; tho' I think it is evident at leaft, that a man may spend fo much of his time in idle or unprofitable words, as to render himself obnoxious to an account for the mifufe and mifapplication of the reafon and fpeech with which his maker has endowed him.' |