SERMON XIX.

LUKE xviii. 10.

TWO MEN WENT UP INTO THE TEMPLE TO PRAY; THE ONE A PHARISEE, AND THE OTHER A PUBLICAN.

CONFESSION of our sins, and humiliation on account of them, are not duties, which belong exclusively to our prayers. But, if ever the sense of our unworthiness ought to take full possession of the soul, it is, when we stand in the presence of God, when, after acknowledging his purity, and contemplating his bounty, we turn to the consideration of the sinfulness of our hearts, the ingratitude of our conduct, and the poverty of our best services. It is, however, much to be feared, that, in our intercourse with God, as well as with one another, we are not always thoroughly honest. Accustomed, as we are, to put on our best dress, and keep back our deficiencies in our conversation with mankind, especially when we are ourselves the subjects of it, there is much reason to suspect, that we sometimes carry, either our vanity, or our equivocation and concealment, to the foot of the mer

ey seat, and there, as well as in the world, we think to appear better than we are. Sometimes our confession of sins degenerates into an act of customary formality, or, what is far more dreadful, we confess them, that we may recommence, with a lighter heart, the career of transgression. To correct these dangerous errours, and to assist you in the performance of this part of duty, let us attend to the following instructive parable.

Two men went up into the temple to pray; the one a Pharisee, the other a Publican. The gates of the sanctuary are thrown open for the admission of all, who choose to enter its courts. The foot of the hypocrite does not stumble at the threshold; nor are the uplifted hands of the profane and polluted blasted and withered in the midst of their devotions. Even now, these walls enclose, with equal security, the devout and the dissembling, the humble and the haughty, the Publican and the Pharisee. In man's undiscerning eye, the incense of their prayers seems to mingle; but, through this cloud of disguises, the eye of heaven pierces into the intention, and explores the heart, which we are not allowed to penetrate or judge. The duties of the Lord's day have summoned us here, my friends, as usual; and we agree to bar out, for a time, the importunate cares, and not less importunate gayeties of the week. God knows the spirit of our prayers; and it may be well for us to remember, that, of the two men, who went up to the temple to pray, one went down to his house justified, rather

than the other; they returned as they came, one a Pharisee, the other a Publican.

The Pharisee, continues the parable, stood and prayed thus with himself: "God, I thank thee, I am not, as other men are; extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even as this Publican." You are, perhaps, surprised to find, that a sentiment of this nature should have gained a place in the prayers even of a Pharisee. But out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks, even at the footstool of the Almighty; and the man, who has been fond of comparing his own advantages and attainments with the imperfections and disadvantages of his inferiours in life, will be little disposed to humble himself in the presence of his God. My friends, we never shall acquire a fair knowledge of ourselves, if this is the method we take to form the estimate; for who cannot find many in the circle of his acquaintance, with whom, in some respect, he will not suffer by comparison? When you consider, then, how inclined we all are, however unconsciously, to compare ourselves with those in the same rank or occupation of life, and when we observe, also, that every man is naturally most intimate with those, whose moral taste and attainments are of a rank with his own, have we not some reason to suspect, that the spirit, if not the language of the Pharisee have sometimes mingled with our prayers, and checked that humility, with which they ought ever to be accompanied?

But let us carefully trace the workings of this Pharisee's mind. He first thanks his God, that he is not, as other men are, an extortioner. He had not wrung from his debtors their hard earnings, nor snatched the bread from their children's mouths, nor left the parents to pine away in the cold damps of a dungeon. He had always been contented with sober gains. To the Publicans he had cheerfully left the collection of a hateful tribute; therefore, he had been guilty of none of the extortions and oppressions of office, concerned in no usurious contracts, or cruel impositions. He was surprisingly free from sins, which he had neither opportunity nor temptation to commit; and, with this wondrous purity, he comes into the temple of his God to indulge his self-complacency!

He next is thankful, that he is not an adulterer. He has not been willing to run the dangerous risk of being stoned to death by the laws of Moses, of which he was, perhaps, a constituted expositor; and for this, too, he thanks his God.

The catalogue of his excellencies would, perhaps, soon have been exhausted, even in his own account, had he not, perchance, turned his eyes upon a poor Publican, who had also come up to the temple to pray. The sight of this man adds another clause to his impious prayer. "God, I thank thee, I am not as this Publican!" The Publicans were a class of men exceedingly odious to the Jews, because they were the appointed collectors of a revenue, which, with a reluctance never to be subdued, was paid by

this obstinate nation to the emperour of Rome. It is true, the receivers of this tribute were, in general, not less iniquitous than hateful; and nothing but the most extravagant propensity to self-applause could have found any satisfaction in a consciousness of superiority to this despised class of his countrymen. Here, indeed, closes the Pharisee's enumeration of vices, in abstaining from which he congratulates himself,

And now let us turn, my hearers, from this fictitious story, the temple, the Pharisee, and Jerusalem, and look at our own times, our own churches, our own ' characters. How often, in our secret meditations and prayers, have we deluded ourselves, and offended God, by partial estimates of our moral worth! In examining ourselves, how hastily do we suffer our thoughts to glance over the dark, and repose with delight on the bright portions of our character! In our commerce with men, do we not try to lure their gaze to these illuminated spots, and even venture to hope, that they may catch and please the eye of omniscience itself? Do we not value ourselves most upon our freedom from those sins, which we are least tempted to commit; and think it a great virtue to have been afraid of a great vice? Few of us are extor tioners; fewer, perhaps, adulterers. We do not outstrip the age in degeneracy; and we do not care to fall far behind it. We are not guilty, forsooth, of any sins but those, which most easily beset us; we allow ourselves those indulgences only, which belong