depravity; still the tear of repentance and faith unfeigned may wipe off the stain, and the sinner restored to virtue may learn wisdom and humility, and after his fall tread more firmly, because more cautiously than before. In the mean time "charity endureth all things;" under every injury and every trial it preserves its patience, its benignity: it looks for its model and its guide to that Jesus, "who, when he was reviled, reviled not again; when he suffered, he threatened not, but committed himself to Him who judgeth righteously."

Such, my fellow-Christians, is the apostle's description of the nature and effects of Christian charity; such the disposition it implies, and the criterions by which it may be known. Longsuffering and kind, free from envy and vain-glory-its demeanour inoffensive-its motives disinterested-incapable of malignity and revenge-candid-unsuspicious-favourable in its construction of every doubtful action-merciful to the detected criminal-eager to forgive and to embrace the penitent―imitating the conduct and forming itself after the model of the God of mercy and the Prince of Peace.

And now, my friends, seriously reflect, if this be charity, where is it rightly understood? By which of us is it duly cultivated? How many are there who bear the Christian name, yet seem strangers to this the distinguishing feature of the Christian character! How many styling themselves Christians, who can endure no provocations, can cover no faults of their brethren, can keep themselves within no bounds, can believe nothing to the advantage of those against whom they entertain a prejudice! They vaunt themselves; they are puffed up with the conceit of their own wisdom; they behave themselves unseemly; they are easily provoked; they seek only their own reputation and profit; they believe the worst they can hear of others, and suspect more than they hear. They envy their superiors; they hate their enemies. They are prone to calumniate, slow to forgive. Oh! my fellow-Christians, let us probe thoroughly our hearts, that no part thus cankered with the rancour of malignity, remain to taint their purity. Let us cultivate charity more and more; for this is that plant of the celestial

• 1 Pet. ii. 23.

Paradise, which will not fail to flourish and bloom to all eternity. When tongues shall cease; when that knowledge on which we now value ourselves shall, like the childish trifling of infancy, vanish away before the clear light that shall burst upon us from the "Father of lights;" and we shall know even as we are known; when faith shall be superseded by certainty, and hope by enjoyment; still this sacred and exalted spirit of love to God and love to all our fellow-creatures, shall continue the animating principle of our actions, the source of our happiness, our guide to perfection, enlarging and ascending as we advance in the knowledge and imitation of that all-perfect Being who is the God of love, whom to imitate and to adore is bliss unspeakable, "in whose presence is fulness of joy, and at whose right hand are pleasures for evermore."*

• Psalm xvi. 11.

225

SERMON XXII.

THE UNPROFITABLE SERVANT.

[Preached on New-Year's Day.]

MATTHEW XXV. 30.

* Cast ye the unprofitable servant into outer darkness: there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth."

THE severity of the sentence thus passed on the unprofitable servant, must, at all times, dispose every serious Christian to examine with anxious attention the nature of that guilt which merited such condemnation. But the inquiry seems peculiarly fitted to this season, which, as it marks the commencement of another year in this uncertain but important scene of trial, calls on us to renew our activity in the service of that God, whose mercy we have thus repeatedly experienced in protracting the period of our existence, and affording us new opportunities of working out our salvation. Nor are such reflections less suited to that high solemnity by which we so lately celebrated the wondrous condescension of the Son of God, in taking our nature upon him that he might dwell amongst men, to instruct them by his precepts, guide them by his example, and "purify unto himself a peculiar people, zealous of good works."* Hence we are naturally led to consider, whether we ourselves are zealous as we ought to be; whether we are prepared to meet that awful hour, when the Son of God shall again appear as the Judge of men. Thus do the character and crime of the unprofitable servant claim most particularly your present attention. May the Spirit of Wisdom direct you to apply them to your effectual improvement!

The parable which concludes with this awful sentence represents all mankind as servants, whose master, departing into a

* Tit. ii. 14.

VOL. IV.

far country, distributed amongst them his goods in different proportions, according to their several abilities; and returning after a long time to take vengeance on his enemies, and to exact from all a strict account, found that all had increased the talents. committed to them by successful industry,-the unprofitable servant alone excepted. "I," said he, "knew thee that thou art a hard man, and I

was afraid, and hid thy talent in the earth; lo, there thou hast that is thine."

Now the application of this is obvious. The various situations and advantages of life are so distributed by the secret hand of Providence, as may best suit each man's powers, and try each man's virtue. Controlled by no immediate and continued visible inspection, and uncertain as to the time of the general account, we are left at full liberty to give scope to our native inclinations, and to display clearly with what degree of zeal we are animated in our Master's service. We may for the present, improve his gifts with active fidelity, or bury them in the earth, with the unprofitable servant: but we must all submit to the same scrutiny, and receive the recompense suited to our deservings. To prove and fix these, is one chief object of our Master's care; that in proportion to our fidelity and zeal, or our remissness and neglect, we may be exalted to higher dignity, or loaded with due punishment. Such was the situation of the unprofitable servant. The trust reposed in him, and the purpose of reposing it, the peculiar sources of his guilt and condemnation, require more particular discussion.

He

His guilt evidently did not arise from any aversion to his master's person, or any contempt of his authority. Let not Christians suppose, that except they are impious infidels they cannot imitate his guilt, or incur his condemnation. was not one of those citizens, who are said to have hated his master, and seditiously refused him for a ruler over them. From the first he adhered to his allegiance, and on his return received him with due submission, and accosted him with the title of his Lord. Nor did his error arise from forgetting that a trust had been reposed in him, which he must prepare to account for. He is not represented as an unthinking, abandoned profligate, but rather as fearing to apply the talent committed to him to his own use, and laying it up as the property of another, which

he would one day be called on to restore. And this, on his Lord's return, he immediately proceeds to do, without attempting denial, or waiting for compulsion.

Neither is there any circumstance that can lead us to suppose that he was seduced from his duty by the allurements of pleasure, or betrayed into guilt by the turbulence of passion. He is not represented as wasting his talent in riotous living, but as carefully preserving it. He seems rather to have been a cautious and sober character, attentive to his own immediate convenience and repose, and anxious to incur as little hazard as his situation could possibly allow.

But what is most important and extraordinary of all—and which I press on all who deem themselves secure, because no stings of conscience pierce their soul from recollection of any plain and obvious crimes-his conduct seems to have excited in him no self-remorse; and, as to his Lord, very slight fears of condemnation. He approaches him, not indeed with the manly confidence of assured fidelity, but yet evidently free from the alarms of conscious guilt; not as deeming himself entitled by extraordinary exertions to praises and rewards, but as having fulfilled his duty sufficiently to secure him from censure and punishment. There thou hast that is thine,"-all you can justly claim, or I am obliged to account for. This is the language of self-satisfied security.

Here then, my brethren, is a character well worthy the attention of every one of us. A man not impious, not an infidel, not an adulterer, not a drunkard; a man conscious of the existence and greatness of his God, assured of the necessity of answering for his conduct, and even in some degree solicitous to prepare for such a trial, yet egregiously neglecting his duty, and incurring the most inexcusable guilt, but still utterly deceiving his own heart, and whispering to himself peace where there was no peace; so that the sentence of condemnation seems to have been to him the first notice of his offence; and his soul appears to have remained sunk in a lethargic and fatal insensibility, until it awoke to the wailing of misery and the agony of punishment.

What then was the nature of a guilt so atrocious, and a selfdeceit so destructive? His guilt consisted not so much in doing