6

hinder the performance of our oaths. We are, therefore, when conditions are not necessarily implied, always to express them in some form like this: So or so I will act, if God permit, or if I shall have it in my power.' But, having thus provided the proper conditions, and reservations, if we afterward change our intentions, and do not perform what we promised, on a pretence that it is not in our power, though it really is; or on a surmise that the party, to whom we gave the promise, hath not acted up to his engagements, though he really hath, we are as guilty of wilful perjury as he who flatly violates an unconditional oath.

That which ought to prevent the performance of a promissory oath, is, the unlawfulness of its matter. We are not at liberty simply to promise what the laws of God, or those of men which are conformable to his, have prohibited; much less may we add oaths to such promises; and if at any time we have been so rash as to do this, we must repent of it as a great and heinous sin. Now it is impossible both rightly to repent of the promise, and to do the thing promised. Here the law, which is good, must take place of our promise, which is evil; and therefore what we engaged to do, must by no means be done. Considered as Christians, all our thoughts, words, and actions, are already ruled by our baptismal covenant, which we ratified with a vow. Now the priority of a lawful vow, like that of all other lawful obligations, renders all posterior engagements of a contrary nature absolutely null and void to all intents and purposes. Yet, though the culpable obligation is void, it is not enough for us to say, we find the matter of our promissory oath unlawful, and therefore we will not keep it. No; we must consider, that we have sinned very grievously in making it ; inasmuch as we called on God to be the guardian of an oath which he could not but detest, both in itself, and in the swearer. We were not content with a single breach of our vow and covenant with him, but we impudently and presumptuously desired him to be a witness of our crime. This sin, therefore, demands not only amendment, but our deepest sighs, and saltest tears.

Lastly, Having satisficd our consciences, that what we are going to promise on oath is both practicable and lawful, we must see, that our intentions to perform it be sincere and

firm; for, if God sees they are not, he sees us perjured, his holy name profaned, and that which we engaged for, no better secured than if he had never been made the witness and guardian of it. You may easily judge whether infinite Majesty can look on such a prevarication without the the most deep and settled resentment.

These considerations ought keenly to be laid to heart by all who enter into contracts of any sort through the solemnity of an oath; but more especially by such as have entered, or going to enter, into a married state. Can they expect God should bless them with love, peace, and fidelity, if they do not pay a just regard to that oath wherewith they are, in so sacred a manner, bound to the mutual exchange of those necessary virtues? No; if they neglect them, and the oath which enforces them on their consciences, they have nothing to expect, but a traitor and a tormentor, instead of an husband or a wife; and an hell, instead of a comfortable habitation, and a well ordered family.

They likewise, who are sworn into public employments of any kind, ought well to consider, both the great importance of the places they fill, and the dreadful strictness of the oaths they take, If they use no conscience in this, as the world knows they seldom shew any, do they think that "God, whose kingdom ruleth over all,' will not call them into judgment for prostituting his glorious name to all the interested, mercenary, the iniquitous, the oppressive views, they had in suing for their posts? Do they, vainly elated with their present lucrative or honarary stations, imagine he will not scourge them as impudent intruders on his own majesty, and execrable traitors to men? Will the God of justice wink at public perjury, and public robbery? No, no, the atheist, low in his principles, though high in his station, may laugh at his oath, may remember it only to insult it with a violation of all its parts; may, for a time, employ the power he is trusted with, to purposes the very reverse of those he swore to promote; but he will find on that day, when it will be impossible to be an atheist, that there is One higher than the highest, who regardeth, to whom vengeance belongeth, and who will fully repay.'

As to our duty, when we promise any thing to God, which is what is understood by a vow, all those precautions

about our expressions, so necessary in other oaths, have nothing to do in this. Here God enters into our hears, and covenants with us by our naked thoughts. All we have, therefore, to look to in this case, is, first, the reasonableness and piety of what we promise; and the firmness of our resolution to perform it. If the thing we vow is rendered evil, either by its own nature, or by the revealed will of God, our vow, instead of consecrating it, serves only to desecrate our selves. And, if we are not fully convinced of our resolution to suffer every thing, rather than not perform it, we do but ensnare ourselves, and mock Almighty God. We never vow that which is not, by supposition, a matter of considerable difficulty; for, being right in itself, if it is pleasant or easy in the performance, there can be no inducement to tie ourselves to it by a vow. He, therefore, only is fit to make a vow, whose deep and lively sense of religion is sufficient to give him that firmness and perseverance which he does not find in his natural temper and make. In such a mind, it is of infinite use to have its piety pointed by a solemn vow directly against its infirmities. A vow, thus applied, will answer the end of a cannon planted in a breach, provided it is not suffered to lie idle. This is the use intended by that vow wherewith our baptismal covenant is enforced, which ought not only to prevent our making new ones of a contrary nature, but ought likewise to prevent all such subsequent vows, as only aim in particular at the performance of those duties which the covenant lays us under in general terms. To vow anew what we vowed in baptism, serves only to null, not strengthen, that original promise, wherein we contracted on oath to do all the good we can, and no evil; and therefore left ourselves no room for new promises to the same effect, unless, we suppose, against sense and reason, that our transgressions have wholly annulled and abolished the baptismal covenant and vow, and so made it necssary to come to new terms of our own invention with Almighty God. But the case is quite otherwise. The greatest sinner that ever was baptized, remains all his life under the obligation of his original contract, although totally deprived of all its benefits. Even a formal renunciation cannot discharge him, because his contract was ratified by an undeterminable vow. All that a transgressor can do, is

truly to repent of his sins; and, having recovered by meditation a lively sense of his baptismal vow, to renew it in his prayers, and at the sacrament of the Lord's supper. God authorises no other vows or contracts for the same purpose.

It is true, indeed, we may innocently, perhaps profitably, promise to God to do such actions, though left indifferent by the covenant, as may help to qualify us for the performance of those that we stipulated for. We may, for instance, consecrate a part of our time to fasting and prayer by a particular vow. Or, on the other hand, we may lay a vow against such actions, as, although not forbidden by the covenant, tempt us to the transgression of some article contained thereinr If, for example, we are addicted to drunkenness, we may promise to abstain from strong liquors, although the covenant permits the use of them. Such vows as these tend only to aid us in the due observation of our original vow, and therefore seem rather useful, in some cases, than culpable. And yet it must be owned, that, in vowing obedience when we were baptised, we did, by implication, vow the means necessary to that obedience. However, as the actions I am speaking of were left indifferent by our original contract, and only became otherwise by accident, the tying ourselves up in respect to them cannot, I think, be displeasing in the sight of God, since we do it with so good a design.

It is certain, there is no one thing that concerns a Christian so much, as to keep his attention always fixed on his baptismal vow; because the covenant he thereby bound himself to, is the great rule by which he is to live here, and be judged hereafter. If he does not do this, he is in danger of spending the greater part of his days in direct opposition to the awful doctrine of my text, as well as to all those other places of Scripture, that immediately forbid his sins. Few men consider, as they ought to do, that, over and above the peculiar guilt they contract by each particular transgression, they are perjured in every one of their sins.

Having explained to you, as well as I could in so short a compass, the doctrine that comes naturally under the first part of my text, before I proceed to the other, it may be useful to observe to you, that, as it is by an oath we become Christians, and as by oaths all the laws of civil society ope

rate, it concerns us above all things, whether we cast our eyes on this world, or the next, to consider perjury as the crime most capable of doing mischief among mankind, and therefore the most likely to provoke the indignation of Almighty God. In all transgressions of our baptismal covenant, he is the party immediately injured by it. And whenever, in the affairs of the world, it is applied to pervert justice, his name is prostituted to that abominable purpose; and he who is the supreme Governor, the King of kings, and the guardian of justice, is, as far as the horrible impiety of mankind can do it, made the instrument and means of all iniquity. Robbery, rebellion, murder, &c. are looked on as crimes of the first magnitude, and punished with death in almost every country. But are we to regard perjury as a less heinous crime, because it is followed in this world with less alarming consequences? No; 'let us not judge by appearances, but judge righteous judgment.' In respect to God, no crime we can commit, blasphemy only excepted, strikes so directly at his majesty as this; which so far shares the nature of blasphemy, that it practically denies the wisdom, justice, and power, of God; or, if it owns, defies them. If hope of impunity is the most tempting encouragement to all manner of wickedness; and if perjury gives all other sins the greatest hopes of impunity, then perjury beside its own peculiar malignity, brings with it the foul stain of all other sins. Every one who hath frequented the trials of our civil courts, hath seen it steal, rob, ravish, cut throats, and take fees. Let no detestable dealer in perjuries, who lives by the infernal retail of oaths, presume to say (none else, I am sure, will say it), that I too highly aggravate the heinousness of this crime, so big with every sort of enormity; in respect to God, owning and denying, professing and renouncing him, with the same breath; and, with respect to men, ever punishing the innocent, and rewarding the guilty, and doing all it can to bring the affairs of mankind under subjection to the author of evil. No; it is impossible to exceed here. This is one of those crimes which leaves all the eloquence of oratory, and all the paintings of poetry, far behind; and can be fully expressed by nothing, but the despairing groans of him who suffers for it in eternal flames.