what he will in heaven and earth, so that none can stay his hand, or say unto him, What dost thou?' takes care to put himself under the protection of that Being, as his servant and dependant; and, while he serves the Master of the world, enjoys all the security and assistance omnipotence can give him. If he is ignorant, his Master is omniscient; if he is weak, his Master is almighty; if he is at a distance when his enemies are scheming his ruin, his Master is there, for he is every where, and. ready to disappoint their malice. In this situation, although he is but a creature, wisdom itself is his guide, and power itself his protection. Thus supported, thus guarded on all sides, whom or what hath he to fear, though earth and hell, though men and devils, were combined against him?

To be more particular, shall this man tremble at oppression, or fear the frowns of the great? Great do I call them 'who shall die, who shall be made as grass?' No, they are wretchedly little; and he that fears God, shall hold both their malice and power in contempt. There is no room to fear a man, though he stands on a hillock a little higher than his neighbours, if we fear God, who is higher than the highest, and who,' we know, 'regardeth,', when the proud exalt themselves against his servant. The labourer need not dread the steward, since the common Master of both shall not always suffer the one to oppress the other, but shall level them in death, and rank them afterward, not according to the stations they acted in here, but according to the duty and respect they paid to his commands. Then shall he that humbled himself with the fear of God, be exalted; and he that exalted himself to a contempt of every thing good and sacred, be debased, and brought low, even to hell. God, at the same time that he inculcates the fear of himself by the greatness of his works, forbids the fear of men, who are as grass, and nothing, in comparison of him. 'I, even I, am he that comforteth you: who are thou, that thou shouldest be afraid of a man? and forgettest the Lord thy Maker, who hath stretched forth the heavens, and laid the foundations of the earth?"

The fear of God will also arm us against the fear of cenHe need not much regard the opinions of men, who, through the apprehension of God's displeasure, is doing his

sure.

utmost to approve himself to the Searcher of hearts. If he hath the smallest hope of succeeding in an attempt so very exalted, he will be under no manner of uneasiness about their opinions or remarks, who only guess by appearances, and see no more than the mere surfaces of things. He will find little temptation to be vain when they applaud, or ashamed when they condemn, when they know nothing to the bottom, and judge of what they do know, by prejudices so gross, and rules so foreign to reason, that he hath the best chance to pick sense and truth out of their reflections, who interprets them, as he does dreams, by contraries. Mankind are miserably enslaved to foolish and wicked customs, which they prefer on all occasions, to reason, duty, religion; nay, to what they value far above these, their present interest and convenience. By these customs they regulate their behaviour with an exactness never shewn in regard to the laws of God or man. And by these they judge of persons and things, esteeming every thing right that is in the mode, and wrong, that is out of it. Now he that will not submit to be regulated by rules, the observation whereof costs the world both so much pains and money, nay, frequently their souls, is of course hated and aspersed, as a despiser of that which others respect, and consequently as a despiser of them. In this light he meets with far less toleration, than the pimp, the sharper, or the adulterer. If he will neither be drunk, nor make others drunk; if he will keep up a neighbourhood with none but the honest, and the religious; if he makes a difference between dining with a gentleman, when his wife sits at the head of the table, and dining with him, when his strumpet fills the same place; he is a madman, or a hypocrite, or a creature void of common manners and civility, with whom there is no living in society. But if this man truly fears God, he will hear their railleries just as he does the barking of so many dogs; or, in case he lays any stress on what they say, will construe all their censures into applauses, and bless God for bestowing that fear on him, which sets him free from a despicable state of slavery, prided in, and yet suffered with impatience by the rest of the world. What liberty, what courage, what a nobly singular sort of heroism, does the fear of God, in this remarkable instance, communicate to a good Christian! None but they who know

the world, and have been often distressed between its abominable customs, and their own virtue, can do justice to the magnanimity of such a man.

In the next place, The fear of God will rid us of all apprehensions about future events, whether wished or dreaded by vain men, under an imagination, that good or ill success are in all things suitable to the precarious judgments they form of themselves, and what is fit for them. Why should we fear that which can never happen, but by the appointment or permission of Him, who disposes all events, and will certainly so dispose them, as to promote the principal happiness of such as fear and obey him? Fortune is the idol of fools. Providence alone directs and orders all things. If they ever seem accidental, it is owing to our short-sightedness, who cannot comprehend the unsearchable schemes of infinite wisdom; and to our vanity, who think there must be evil, or accident, in that which we cannot account for. But it is quite otherwise with him, who, fearing God, finds there is nothing else to be feared. The event of his suit at law, or of his interest at court, give him no concern. He knows God is in both places, and will order every thing for the best, by a wisdom, which he dare not presume to judge of. If he is in battle, he knows the God of battles is there also, and will choose life or death for him, with infinitely more wisdom and goodness, than he is able to choose with for himself. While others, in the same ship with him, are at sea in a storm, anxiously wishing for one thing, and miserably dreading another, he is on a rock, calmly waiting for the will of him, whom he feared as much at land, as here at sea. For the same reason, the whole train of superstition, dreams, omens, goblins, devils, with which the imaginations of others are so haunted, make no impression on his. In fearing one reality he is guarded against all these imaginary terrors. He knows that which hath no being cannot possibly hurt him; and that which hath both being and malice, he considers as destitute of power to injure him, because subject to that all-ruling hand, which binds the great dragon in chains. If his fear of God enables him to triumph over the devil in his more dangerous capacity, as a seducer, he hath reason to look with contempt on him, as a terrifier or

tormentor.

Lastly, The fear of death, that last and greatest of temporal terrors, is swallowed up in the fear of God. He that rightly fears God, considers himself as equally under the divine power in life and death, and in either world. As to death itself, he knows it is a gate that leads to God; a gate, at which he is to take a final leave of all his infirmities, to pass beyond the reach of temptation, beyond the art and malice of the devil, beyond a moral possibility of ever falling from God. His body, he is sensible, may be loaded with sickness, and his spirits sunk in the gloom, which nature throws on this passage; but he knows this will soon be at an end, at a happy end, where he will meet his Comforter, ready to disperse his fears; and his Redeemer, prepared to present him in peace to the Father of mercies. This draws the sting out of death, and gives him that wellgrounded calmness and courage at the last, which he never felt who fell for ambition in the field of battle, nor he who sacrificed his blood to false honour in a duel, nor he who, like a coward, took shelter in self-murder from a small part of that calamity his sins had deserved.

Every one fears according to his sense of things. One fears pain; another poverty; another shame; some dread the frowns of the great, and some the agonies of death. Almost every one fears somewhat that he need not fear; that is, every one is a coward in something, but he who, having wisely balanced the weight of things, and finding all things light and insignificant, in comparison of God, fears God alone. Of all men the martyr may be most truly said to fear God; for he would tremble at the most distant thought of denying him, who purchased him with his blood. But does this fear unman him? No; it gives him a resolution, in cold blood, infinitely surpassing all that drums, trumpets, armies, and the prospect of empires, can raise in the breast of the most ambitious. Let persecution seat itself on a throne, and try him with the frowns of power; let it shake its lash, and rattle its chains, and point to its loathsome dungeons, it shall find his soul raised infinitely above all its menaces. Let death present itself in its most hideous dress; let it foam on the jaws of the wild beast; let it groan from the cross; let it devour in the fiery furnace; he shall meet it with a smile, he shall embrace it with a calm and steady

joy; nay, he shall bless and pray for those who inflict it. Is it not true then, that in the fear of the Lord there is strong confidence?'

But here some will say, How comes it to pass, that we so seldom see the fear of God produce these courageous effects? Why have they who seem to fear God most, as quick a sense of danger as other men? Granting the fact, which may very well be questioned, it will not affect what I have been saying; because I have been recommending the religious application of this passion in its highest perfection, such as it shews itself in saints and martyrs; and not the partial use of it, as it appears in men who are but half religious. Did we fear God as we ought, we should be lost to common sense, before we could possibly dread any thing else; because all things else, as I have already observed, are only instruments in his hands, and can neither strike nor wound but as he directs them. We do not fear a gun, nor a sword, although instruments of death, in the hands of a friend. Now had we, by fearing and obeying God, made him our friend, we should have as little reason to fear the instruments of vengeance in his hands. Nay, I must insist, that, guilty as we are, or possibly can be, our fear of every thing, but God, is ridiculous, because nothing, but God, can hurt us. I know a thief dreads the gallows. But is he not in this as much a fool as a thief? What would the gallows be to him, more than any other tree, were there no laws nor magistrates to make that gallows an instrument of justice on him?

This most senseless mistake of fearing the effect rather than the cause, of dreading the instrument rather than the person who wields it, is the source of all our sins and sufferings. It keeps us busy in eluding effects, when we ought to beware of the causes. It tempts us to fly to weak helps, and insufficient defences, when we ought to make our peace with the First Cause and Governor of all things, 'whose mercy,' like his power, 'is over all his works;' and who therefore, did we duly fear and apply to him, would at once remove all vain, all slavish, cause of apprehension from us, and make us perfectly safe against every thing that could hurt us. Then sickness, poverty, death, and the like, if inflicted on us, would change their nature from evil to good, and