Beware of this fatal error, my brethren, for it is a very deceitful one; so many there are, who are apt to measure their love of the Gospel by their fondness for hearing sermons; whereas it is very possible to be fond of hearing, without having the least desire to profit by what we hear. I think there is, in the present day, a very prevalent taste for hearing sermons; I would that there were a corresponding wish for religious improvement.

But where, in the second place, is that daily searching of the Scriptures? Of the numbers, who will listen with some complacency, and even pleasure, to preachers, it is but a few, a very few, here and there, who thus diligently seek the fountain-head of all the duties that preachers deliver. You hear a sermon, which affords you some gratification, either from the delivery, or the ideas, or the language; you retire from the church, perhaps you never more think of the sentiments expressed in it; at all events, you never seriously think on the subject, if you do not have recourse to your Bible, which only, and not the sermon, gave importance to the subject: -and yet how many of you are conscious, that, though you are fond of hearing sermons on the Lord's day, yet, from one end of the week to the other, you never look into the Scriptures, on

which all sermons ought to be founded, their agreement with which is the only thing, that can render them worthy of a moment's attention?

My brethren, "take heed how ye hear;" you may hear to your ruin; by the grace of God you may hear to your salvation. Hear not with prejudice, hear not with self-conceit, hear not out of idle curiosity; but hear like the Thessalonians, with the impression that it is "the word of God," which as far as study and proper care can secure from error, is intended to be preached to you; and like the Bereans, apply to the Scriptures continually (daily is the word,) that you may obtain your instruction from its very source; and let me entreat you to pray to God, not only for yourselves, that by hearing and reading you may come to the knowledge of the truth,” and be “made wise unto salvation through faith which is in Christ Jesus," but "for me" also, that I may be "guided into all truth," and "that utterance may be given unto me that I may open my mouth boldly, to make known the mystery of the Gospel; that therein I may speak as I ought to speak." And may the Holy Spirit ever be present in this sacred ordinance, and give success to the word of life, by whomsoever spoken or by whomsoever heard, that God may be glorified, and many souls saved thereby, through the merits of Jesus Christ our Lord.

66

SERMON XII.

THE MOTE AND THE BEAM.

St. LUKE VI. 41.

Why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother's eye, but perceivest not the beam that is in thine own eye?

THE two grand and characteristic virtues, in which the whole morality of the Gospel is almost, if not entirely, comprehended, are charity and humility, a feeling of universal kindness towards our fellow creatures, and a strong sense of personal unworthiness. These virtues, in their true nature, and in the full extent to which they are required, are so peculiar to the Gospel, that none but Christians ever possessed them; they were never taught in any other system; and they are so essential to the Gospel, that it is impossible to be a Christian without them; im

possible to be a Christian without these most distinguishing marks and features of Christianity.

And yet, my brethren, how many of us nominal Christians may justly consider ourselves addressed in the words of my text, which impute to us conduct that can proceed only from the want of those very two virtues, so especially Christian !—how prone are most of us to search out and condemn the supposed failings of our neighbours !-how liable wholly to overlook, or to treat with partial lenity our own defects! How then is this to be accounted for? I should hesitate to say that it is a certain proof of a peculiarly malicious mind, to be ready at discovering the vices of others; nor should I hastily assert, that the man must be remarkable for a superior degree of self-conceit, who is ignorant of his own defects; for I fear almost the whole world more or less lieth in wickedness in these two respects; almost all are quick sighted to perceive the mote in their brother's eye, blind to the beam that is in their own eye. I suppose the cause is to be found in that natural self-love, so common to us all, and the origin of all the unneighbourly, and unsocial feelings and practices that exist; that self-love which, in more instances than this, we are so apt to gratify at the expence of our brethren; that self-love which,

when not expanded by religion into good-will towards all mankind, narrows and contracts the mind more than any other feeling, rendering the individual an object of such superior and exclusive interest to himself, that the rest of the world, instead of being comprehended in his affection, are regarded almost with hostility. This self-idolatry it is, which lies at the bottom of all pride, envy, malice, hatred, and uncharitableness of every kind and degree; it quickens a man's perception of his own good qualities, and of his neighbours' bad ones, while it makes him slow to recognise any thing culpable in himself, or commendable in them.

Imagine to yourselves a man in whose heart this feeling of uncharitableness has never been subdued; imagine him enquiring into his own religious condition: What is his progress? Does he set out with the persuasion that he is a guilty sinner before God, and in consequence does he apply himself seriously to consider what are his vices, his follies, his infirmities? What evil passions and propensities mostly beset him? Does he examine into his "sins, negligences, and ignorances?" Does he ask, am I proud? am I a lover of the world? am I negligent of my duty towards God and man? am I uncharitable? am I avaricious? am I resentful? am I cold in my