well as revealed religion: and it is universal. Then as to the second inquiry, the species of benevolence, the kind of duty to which we are bound, it is pointed out to us by the same indication. To whatever office of benevolence our fa which the private endeavours of an individual can produce upon the mass of social good, is so lost, and so unperceived, in the comparison, that it. neither deserves, they think, nor rewards, the attention which it requires. The answer is, that culties are best fitted, our talents turned; what-the comparison, which thus discourages them, ought never to be made. The good which their efforts can produce; may be too minute to bear any sensible proportion to the sum of public happiness, yet may be their share, may be enough for them. The proper question is not, whether the good we aim at be great or little; still less, whether it be great or little in comparison with the whole; but whether it be the most which it is in our power to perform. A single action may be, as it were, nothing to the aggregate of moral good; ever our opportunities, our occasions, our fortune, our profession, our rank or station, or whatever our local circumstances, which are capable of 'no enumeration, put in our power to perform with the most advantage and effect, that is the office for us; that it is, which, upon our principle, we are designed, and, being designed, are obliged to discharge. I think that the judgment of mankind does not often fail them in the choice of the objects or species of their benevolence: but what fails them is the sense of the obligation, the con-so also may be the agent. It may still, therefore, sciousness of the connexion between duty and power, and springing from this consciousness, a disposition to seek opportunities, or to embrace those that occur, of rendering themselves useful to their generation. Another cause, which keeps out of the sight of those who are concerned in them, the duties that belong to superior stations, is a language from their infancy familiar to them, namely, that they are placed above work. I have always considered this as a most unfortunate phraseology. And, as habitual modes of speech have no small effect upon public sentiment, it has a direct tendency to make one portion of mankind envious, and the other idle. The truth is, every man has his work. The kind of work varies, and that is all the difference there is. A great deal of labour exists beside that of the hands; many species of industry beside bodily operation, equally necessary, requiring equal assiduity, more attention, more anxiety. It is not - true, therefore, that men of elevated stations are exempted from work; it is only true, that there is assigned to them work of a different kind: whether more easy, or more pleasant, may be questioned; but certainly not less wanted, not less essential to the common good. Were this maxim once properly received as a principle of conduct, it would put men of fortune and rank upon inquiring, what were the opportunities of doing good, (for some, they may depend upon it, there are,) which in a more especial manner belonged to their situation or condition; and were this principle carried into any thing like its full effect, or even were this way of thinking sufficiently inculcated, it would completely remove the invidiousness of elevated stations. Mankind would see in them this alternative: If such men discharged the duties which were attached to the advantages they enjoyed, they deserved these advantages: if they did not, they were, morally speaking, in the situation of a poor man who neglected his business and his calling; and in no better. And the proper reflection in both cases is the same: the individual is in a high degree culpable, yet the busi ness and the calling beneficial and expedient. be the proportion which is required of him. In all things nature works by numbers. Her greatest effects are achieved by the joint operation of multitudes of (separately considered) insignificant individuals. It is enough for each that it executes its office. It is not its concern, because it does not depend upon its will, what place that office holds in, or what proportion it bears to, the general result. Let our only comparison therefore be, between our opportunities and the use which we make of them. When we would extend our views, or stretch out our hand, to distant and general good, we are commonly lost and sunk in the magnitude of the subject. Particular good, and the particular good which lies within our reach, is all we are concerned to attempt, or to inquire about. Not the smallest effort will be forgotten; not a particle of our virtue will fall to the ground. Whether successful or not, our endeavours will be recorded; will be estimated, not according to the proportion which they bear to the universal interest, but according to the relation which they hold to our means and opportunities; according to the disinterestedness, the sincerity, with which we undertook, the pains and perseverance with which we carried them on. It may be true, and I think it is the doctrine of Scripture, that the right use of great faculties or great opportunities will be more highly rewarded, than the right use of inferior faculties and less opportunities. He that with ten talents had made ten ta lents more, was placed over ten cities. The neglected talent was also given to him. He who with five talents had made five more, though pronounced to be a good and faithful servant, was placed only over five cities. This distinction might, without any great harshness to our moral feelings, be resolved into the will of the Supreme Benefactor: but we can see, perhaps, enough of the subject to perceive that it was just. The merit may reasonably be supposed to have been more in one case than the other. The danger, the activity, the care, the solicitude, were greater. Still both received rewards, abundant beyond measure when compared with the services, equitable and proportioned when compared with one another. That our obligation is commensurate with our opportunity, and that the possession of the opportunity is sufficient, without any further or more formal command, to create the obligation, is a principle of morality and of Scripture; and is alike true in all countries. But that power and property The habit and the disposition which we wish to recommend, namely, that of casting about for opportunities of doing good, readily seizing those which accidentally present themselves, and faithfully using those which naturally and regularly belong to our situations, appear to be sometimes checked by a notion, very natural to active spirits, and to flattered talents. They will not be content so far go together, as to constitute private fortunes to do little things. They will either attempt mighty matters, or do nothing. The small effect * Matt. xxv. 20, et seq. cor our contentions, if we have any, our parties, and our prejudices; strangers to every thing except the evidence which they hear. The effect responds with the wisdom of the design. Juries may err, and frequently do so; but there is no system of error incorporated with their constitu tion. Corruption, terror, influence are excluded by it; and prejudice, in a great degree, though not entirely. This danger, which consists in juries viewing one class of men, or one class of rights, in a more or less favourable light than another, is the only one to be feared, and to be guarded against. It is a disposition, which, whenever it rises up in the minds of jurors, ought to be repressed by their probity, their consciences, the sense of their duty, the remembrance of their oaths. into public stations, as to cast upon large portions | country, and who come amongst us, strangers to of the community occasions which render the preceding principles more constantly applicable, is the effect of civil institutions, and is found in no country more than in ours; if in any so much. With us a great part of the public business of the country is transacted by the country itself: and upon the prudent and faithful management of it, depends, in a very considerable degree, the interior prosperity of the nation, and the satisfaction of great bodies of the people. Not only offices of magistracy, which affect and pervade every district, are delegated to the principal inhabitants of the neighbourhood, but there is erected in every county a high and venerable tribunal, to which owners of permanent property, down almost to their lowest classes, are indiscriminately called; and called to take part, not in the forms and ceremonies of the meeting, but in the most efficient and important of its functions. The wisdom of man hath not devised a happier institution than that of juries, or one founded in a juster knowledge of human life, or of the human capacity. In jurisprudence, as in every science, the points ultimately rest upon common sense, But to reduce a question to these points, and to propose them accurately, requires not only an understanding superior to that which is necessary to decide upon them when proposed, but oftentimes also a technical and peculiar erudition. Agreeably to this distinction, which runs perhaps through all sciences, what is preliminary and preparatory is left to the legal profession; what is final, to the plain understanding of plain men. But since it is necessary that the judgment of such men should be informed; and since it is of the utmost importance that advice which falls with so much weight, should be drawn from the purest sources; judges are sent down to us, who have spent their lives in the study and administration of the laws of their And this institution is not more salutary, than it is grateful and honourable to those popular feelings of which all good governments are tender. Hear the language of the law. In the most momentous interests, in the last peril indeed of human life, the accused appeals to God and his country, "which country you are." What pomp of titles, what display of honours, can equal the real dignity which these few words confer upon those to whom they are addressed? They show, by terms the most solemn and significant, how highly the law deems of the functions and character of a jury; they show also, with what care of the safety of the subject it is, that the same law has provided for every one a recourse to the fair and indifferent arbitration of his neighbours. This is substantial equality; real freedom: equality of protection; freedom from injustice. May it never be invaded, never abused! May it be perpetual! And it will be so, if the affection of the country continue to be preserved to it, by the integrity of those who are charged with its office. ) SERMONS ON SEVERAL SUBJECTS. ADVERTISEMENT. The Author of these Sermons, by a codicil to his will, declares as follows:-" If my life had been continued, it was my intention to have printed at Sunderland a Volume of Sermons-about 500 copies; to be distributed gratis in the parish; and I had proceeded so far in the design as to have transcribed several Sermons for that purpose, which are in a parçel by themselves. There is also a parcel from which I intended to make other transcripts; but the business is in an imperfect unfinished state; the arrangement is not settled further than that I thought the Sermon on Seriousness in Religion should come first, and then the doctrinal Sermons: there are also many repetitions in them, and some that might be omitted or consolidated with others." The codicil then goes on to direct, that, after such disposition should have been made respecting the Manuscripts as might be dcemed necessary, they should be printed by the Rev. Mr. Stephenson, at the expense of the testator's executors, and distributed in the neighbourhood, first to those who frequented church, then to farmers' families in the country, then to such as had a person in the family who could read, and were likely to read them: and, finally, it is added, "I would not have the said Sermons published for sale." In compliance with this direction, the following Sermons were selected, printed, and distributed by the Rev. Mr. Stephenson, in and about the parish of Bishop Wearmouth, in the year 1806. These Discourses were not originally composed for publication, but were written for, and, as appears by the Manuscripts, had most of them been preached at the parish Churches of which, in different parts of the Author's life, he had the care. It was undoubtedly the Author's intention that they should not be published, but the circulation of such a number as he had directed by his will to be distributed, rendered it impossible to adhere to that intention; and it was found necessary to publish them, as the only means of preventing a surreptitious sale. SERMON I. SERIOUSNESS IN RELIGION INDISPENSABLE ABOVE ALL OTHER DISPOSITIONS. -Be ye therefore sober, and watch unto prayer. -1 Pet. iv. 7 THE first requisite in religion is seriousness. No impression can be made without it. An orderly life, so far as others are able to observe us, is now and then produced by prudential motives, or by dint of habit; but without seriousness, there can be no religious principle at the bottom, no course of conduct flowing from religious motives: in a word, there can be no religion. This cannot exist without seriousness upon the subject. Perhaps a teacher of religion has more difficulty in producing seriousness amongst his hearers, than in any other part of his office. Until he succeed in this, he loses his labour: and when once, from any cause whatever, a spirit of levity has taken hold of a mind, it is next to impossible to plant serious considerations in that mind. It is seldom to be done, except by some great shock or alarm, sufficient to make a radical change in the disposition: and which is God's own way of bringing about the business. One might have expected that events so awful and tremendous, as death and judgment; that a question so deeply interesting, as whether we shall go to heaven or to hell, could in no possible case, and in no constitution of mind whatever, fail of exciting the most serious apprehension and concern. But this is not so. In a thoughtless, a careless, a sensual world, many are always found who can resist, and who do resist, the force and importance of all these reflections, that is to say, they suffer nothing of the kind to enter into their thoughts. There are grown men and women, nay, even middle aged persons, who have not thought seriously about religion an hour, nor a quarter of an hour, in the whole course of their lives. This great object of human solicitude affects not them in any manner whatever. It cannot be without its use to inquire into the causes of a levity of temper, which so effectually obstructs the admission of every religious influence, and which I should almost call unna- | seem to be excusable. Excusable did I say? I tural. ought rather to have said that they are contrary to reason and duty, in every condition and at every period of life. Even in youth they are built upon falsehood and folly. Young persons as well as old, find that things do actually come to pass. Evils and mischiefs, which they regarded as distant, as out of their view, as beyond the line and reach of their preparations or their concern, come, they find, to be actually felt. They find that nothing is done by slighting them beforehand; for, however neglected or despised, perhaps ridiculed and derided, they come not only to be things present, but the very things, and the only things, about which their anxiety is employed; become serious things indeed, as being the things which now make them wretched and miserable. There fore a man must learn to be affected by events which appear to lie at some distance, before he will be seriously affected by religion. Now there is a numerous class of inankind, who are wrought upon by nothing but what applies immediately to their senses ; by what they see, or by what they feel; by pleasures or pains, or by the near prospect of pleasures and pains which they actually experience or actually experience or actual actually observe. But it is the characteristic of religion to hold out to our consideration consequences which we we do not perceive at the time. That is its very office and province. Therefore if men will restrict and confine all their regards and all their cares to things which they perceive with their outward senses; if they will yield up their understandings to their senses, both in what these senses are fitted to apprehend, and in what they are not fitted to apprehend, it is utterly impossible for religion to settle in their hearts, or for them to entertain any serious concern about the matter. But surely this conduct is completely irrational, and can lead to nothing but ruin. It proceeds upon the supposition, that there is nothing above us, about us, or future, by which we can be affected, but the things which we see with our eyes or feel by our touch. All which is untrue. "The invisible things of God from the creation of the world are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are seen; even his eternal Power and Godhead;" which means, that the order, contrivance, and design, displayed in the creation, prove with certainty, that there is more in nature than what we really see; and that amongst the invisible things of the universe, there is a Being, the author and original of all this contrivance and design, and, by consequence, a being of stupendous power, and of wisdom and knowledge incomparably exalted above any wisdom or knowledge which we see in man; and that he stands in the same relation to us as the maker does to the thing made. The things which are seen are not made of the things which do appear. This is plain: and this argument is independent of Scripture and Revelation. What further moral or religious consequences properly follow from it, is another question; but the proposition itself shows, that they who cannot, and they who will not, raise their minds above the mere information of their senses, are in a state of gross error as to the real truth of things, and are also in a state to which the faculties of man ought not to be degraded. A person of this sort may, with respect to religion, remain a child all his life. A child naturally has no concern but about the things which directly meet its senses; and the person we describe is in the same condition. Again: there is a race of giddy thoughtless men and women, of young men and young women more especially, who look no further than the next day, the next week, the next month; seldom have its attention constantly fixed upon its ulteri or ever so far as the next year. Present pleasure or and permanent destination. And this would is every thing with them. - The sports of the day, be so, if the question between them came fairly the amusements of the evening, entertainments before the mind. We should listen to the Scrip and diversions, occupy all their concern; and so tures, we should embrace religion, we should long as these can be supplied in succession, so enter into every thing which had relation to the long as they can go from one diversion to another, subject, with a concern and impression, even far their minds remain in a state of perfect indiffer- more than the pursuits of this world, eager and ence to every thing except their pleasures. Now ardent as they are, excite. But the question be what chance has religion with such dispositions as tween religion and the world does not come fairly these? Yet these dispositions, begun in early life, before us. What surrounds us is this world; and favoured by circumstances, that is, by affluence and health, cleave to a man's character much beyond the period of life in which they might Again: the general course of education is much against religious seriousness, even without those who conduct education foreseeing or intending any such effect. Many of us are brought up with this world set before us, and nothing else. Whatever promotes this world's prosperity is praised; whatever hurts and obstructs and prejudices this world's prosperity is blamed: and there all praise and censure end. We see mankind about us in motion and action, but all these motions and actions directed to worldly objects. We hear their conversation, but it is all the same way. And this is what we see and hear from the first. The views which are continually placed before our eyes, regard this life alone and its interests. Can it then be wondered at that an early worldlymindedness is bred in our hearts, so strong as to shut out heavenly-mindedness entirely? In the contest which is always carrying on between this world and the next, it is no difficult thing to see what advantage this world has. One of the greatest of these advantages is, that it pre-occupies the mind: it gets the first hold and the first pos session. Childhood and youth, left to themselves, are necessarily guided by sense; and sense is all on the side of this world. Meditation brings us to look towards a future life; but then meditation comes afterwards: it only comes when the mind is already filled and engaged and occupied, nay, often crowded and surcharged with worldly ideas. It is not only, therefore, fair and right, but it is absolutely necessary, to give to religion all the advantage we can give it by dint of educa tion; for all that can be done is too little to set religion upon an equality with its rival; which rival is the world. A creature which is to pass a small portion of its existence in one state, and that state to be preparatory to another, ought, no doubt, to what addresses our senses and our passions is this world; what is at hand, what is in contact with us, what acts upon us, what we act upon, is this world. Reason, faith, and hope, are the only principles | our losses, our fortunes, possessing so much of our minds, whether we regard the hours we expend in meditating upon them, or the earnestness with which we think about them; and religion possessing so little share of our thought either in time or earnestness; the consequence is, that worldly interest comes to be the serious thing with us, religion comparatively the trifle. Men of bu to which religion applies, or possibly can apply: and it is reason, faith, and hope, striving with sense, striving with temptation, striving for things absent against things which are present. That religion, therefore, may not be quite excluded and overborne, may not quite sink under these powerful causes, every support ought to be given to it, which can be given by education, by instruc-siness are naturally serious; but all their serious tion, and, above all, by the example of those, to whom young persons look up; acting with a view to a future life themselves. Again: it is the nature of worldly business of all kinds, especially of much hurry or over-employment, or over-anxiety in business, to shut out and keep out religion from the mind. The question is, whether the state of mind which this cause produces, ought to be called a want of seriousness in religion. It becomes coldness and inditterence towards religion; but is it properly a want of seriousness upon the subject? I think it is; and in this way. We are never serious upon any matter which we regard as trifling. This is impossible. And we are led to regard a thing as triffing, which engages no portion of our habitual thoughts, in comparison with what other things do. sures. But further: the world, even in its innocent pursuits and pleasures, has a tendency unfavourable to the religious sentiment. But were these all it had to contend with, the strong application which religion makes to the thoughts whenever we think of it at all, the strong interest which it presents to us, might enable it to overcome and prevail in the contest. But there is another adversary to oppose, much more formidable; and that is sensuality; an addiction to sensual pleaIt is the flesh which lusteth against the Spirit; that is the war which is waged within us. So it is, no matter what may be the cause, that sensual indulgences, over and above their proper criminality, as sins, as offences against God's commands, have a specific effect upon the heart of man in destroying the religious principle with in him; or still more surely in preventing the formation of that principle. It either induces an open profaneness of conversation and behaviour, which scorns and contemns religion; a kind of profligacy, which rejects and sets at nought the whole thing; or it brings upon the heart an averseness to the subject, a fixed dislike and reluctance to enter upon its concerns in any way whatever. That a resolved sinner should set himself against a religion which tolerates no sin, is not to be wondered at. He is against religion, because religion is against the course of life upon which he has entered, and which he does not feel himself willing to give up. But this is not the whole, nor is it the bottom of the matter. The effect we allude to is not so reasoning or argumentative as this. It is a specific effect upon the mind. The heart is rendered unsuscep ble of religious impressions, incapable of a serious to religion. And this effect belongs to sins of sensuality more than to other sins. It is a consequence which almost universally follows from them. We measure the importance of things, not by what, or according to what they are in truth, but by and according to the space and room which they occupy in our minds. Now our business, our trade, our schemes, our pursuits, our gains, ness is absorbed by their business. In religion they are no more serious than the most giddy characters are; than those characters are, which betray levity in all things. Again: the want of due seriousness in religion, is almost sure to be the consequence of the absence or disuse of religious ordinances and exercises. I use two terms; absence and disuse. Some have never attended upon any religious ordinance, or practised any religious exercises, since the time they were born; some very few times in their lives. With these it is the absence of religious ordinances and exercises. There are others, (and many we fear of this description,) who whilst under the guidance of their parents, have frequented religious ordinances, and been trained up to religious exercises, but who, when they came into more public life, and to be their own masters, and to mix in the pleasures of the world, or engage themselves in its business and pursuits, have forsaken these duties in whole or in a great degree. With these it is the disuse of religious ordinances and exercises. But I must also explain what I mean by religious ordinances and exercises. By religious ordinances, I mean the being instructed in our catechism in our youth; attending upon public worship at church; the keeping holy the Lord's day regularly and most particularly, together with a few other days in the year, by which some very principal events and passages of the Christian history are commemorated; and, at its proper season, the more solemn office of receiving the Lord's Supper. These are so many rites and ordinances of Christianity; concerning all which it may be said, that with the greatest part of mankind, especially of that class of mankind which must, or does, give much of its time and care to worldly concerns, they are little less than absolutely necessary; if we judge it to be necessary to maintain and uphold any sentiment, any impression, any seriousness about religion in the mind at all. They are necessary to preserve in the thoughts a place for the subject; they are necessary that the train of our thoughts may not even be closed up against it. Were all days of the week alike, and employed alike; was there no difference or distinction between Sunday and work-day; was there not a church in the nation: were we never, from one year's end to another, called together to participate in public worship; were there no set forms of public worship: no particular persons appointed to minister and officiate, indeod assemblies for public worship at all; no joint prayers; no preaching; still religion, in itself, in its reality and importance, in its end and event, would be the same thing as what it is: we should still have to account for our conduct; there would still be heaven and hell; salvation and perdition; there would still be the laws of God, both natural and revealed; all the obligation which the authority of a Creator can impose upon a creature; all the gratitude which is due from a rational being to the Author and Giver of no |