SERMON X.

HUMILITY.

1 PETER v. 5.

God resisteth the proud; and giveth grace to the humble.

In the former part of the verse, young persons are exhorted to a respectful and submissive behaviour towards their seniors in age, or superiors in office and station. Yea, all are enjoined, by mutual condescension, to promote the general peace and unity. In order to this, an humble temper is recommended as of the highest importance. "Be clothed with humility," says the inspired writer. To quicken their endeavours after so necessary and ornamental a virtue, he adds, "For God resisteth the proud, and giveth grace to the humble."

To each one of us, my hearers, the grace and favour of God is, of all other things, the most needful and important. How to obtain it, should be our great inquiry. The words of the text are an important direction to those who would successfully seek heavenly grace. They warn us of the diappoint

ment which will attend all the religious attempts of the proud and self-sufficient; while they set before us an assured prospect of success to those of an opposite character. God will set himself, according to the import of the word in the Greek, as in battle array against the proud, but to the humble his grace and favour will be readily extended. How forcibly should this consideration deter us from whatever savours of a proud and arrogant temper, and induce us to humility in our whole deportment! To illustrate this grace, distinguishing it from its opposite vice, and recommending it to the practice of all, especially of young persons and those who are entering on a life of religion, is the design of the present discourse.

Humility, my brethren, holds so distinguished a place in the Gospel scheme, and is so essential to the Christian character, that whoever has aspired to a reputation for extraordinary sanctity among the followers of Christ, has usually made great pretensions to this grace. The show of it has been held forth by multitudes who were destitute of the reality. No other grace of the Gospel, perhaps, has been more frequently, or more artfully counterfeited than this. The wild enthusiast, the furious bigot, and the vile impostor, have all endeavoured to appear to the world under the cloak of humility. The laborious ceremonies and unnatural rigours of the cloister, while they are submitted to as marks of great self-denial and deep abasement, have frequently been accompanied with the spirit of vainglory,

and proved subservient to the solemn impostures of a sanctimonious pride. At best, they belong to that voluntary humility," which the Apostle censures as consistent with a "fleshly mind vainly puffed up." In the same light we are also to view an affected negligence in dress, singularity of manners, an assumed dejection of countenance, degrading and unmanly submissions, the needless stooping to mean and servile offices, and all great professions of selfabasement. These things, which so frequently pass with the undiscerning multitude for marks of uncommon humility, are really no other than the baits which hypocritical pride is daily throwing out to catch applause. It is really wonderful that arts which have been practised so long, and were carried to the utmost length by the self-righteous hypocrites in our Saviour's time, should still retain so much of their efficacy. They are easily detected and seen through by a judicious observer of characters. They who in conversation affect to speak meanly of themselves, cannot always suppress their uneasiness and disappointment when they find that they are not contradicted by others. Notwithstanding all the hard things which they say of themselves, they cannot brook the least censure from their neighbours. "One of the proudest men I have ever known," says an ingenious writer, "and who could the least endure to be charged with any imperfection, was perpetually exclaiming, in a lamentable tone, against the degeneracy of the world and the depravity of

the heart." All great professions of any particular virtue or estimable quality, are always suspicious.

Genuine humility is the most unprofessing of all virtues. It avoids all those words, gestures, and appearances of self-abasement, which might draw the attention and praise of men. But this virtue is not inconsistent with a proper sense of our own rights, or with a rational and manly claim of whatever may be our due by the laws of society, or in consequence of our station, rank, or situation in the community, by virtue of those becoming decencies and fitnesses which humanity and civilization have established. In a temperate and becoming manner, it will dispose us to resist every degradation which might tend to obstruct our usefulness or lessen our influence.

When we think of God, of his greatness, his holiness, and perfection; humility will cause us to feel and to acknowledge our own insignificance, unworthiness, and aggravated guilt. Before him, we shall feel ourselves to be sinful dust and ashes, unable to look up to him, or on any occasion to address him, but as covered with shame and confusion of face. With respect to our fellow-men, humility "recognises that equality of right and obligation, which, according to the diversity of relations and circumstances, subsists among all mankind, but also admits and respects every occurring instance of merit in any individual."

It requires both a sound judgment and no small degree of moderation and firmness, to repress the

impulses of self-love in such a mannner as to give to our own qualities no more value than they ought in reason to possess. So difficult is this attainment, that it may be doubted whether it has been ever completely possessed by any character merely human. To yield to the suggestions of pride, to suffer the imagination to be filled with her fantastic images, and the understanding to be blinded by her fascinations, requires no exertion, no abilities whatever. The weaker, the more ignorant and vicious a person is, the more easily he runs the course which his passions prescribe. But the cultivation of humility is a work that demands great discernment of the respective claims of those that surround us; the faculty of comparing them with our own, a judicious estimation of merit, and resolution to bend the violence and obstinacy of selfish passions to the nature and reason of things. These energies of mind, and their effects on conduct, command esteem, ensure benevolence and attachment, and evince a character not only amiable in itself, but useful to mankind. Every thing social, generous, and exalted, is much more to be expected from this than from the opposite disposition. Is any personal hardship to be suffered, any sacrifice to be made for the public good? The person who considers himself as unimportant, in comparison with the social body, will be more ready to exhibit such instances of magnanimity, than he whose chief object is his own exaltation. Is it necessary for the peace or wellbeing of the community,