XXIV.

PARABLE OF THE PHARISEE AND THE PUBLICAN.

LUKE XVIII. 9-14.

And he spake this parable unto certain which trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and despised others. Two men went up into the Temple to pray; the one a Pharisee, and the other a Publican. The Pharisee stood and prayed thus with himself—God, I thank thee, that I am not as other men are, ertortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even as this Publican. I fast twice in the week, I give tithes of all that I possess. And the Publican, standing afar off, would not lift up so much as his eyes unto heaven, but smote upon his breast, saying, God be merciful to me a sinner! I tell you, this man went down to his house justified rather than the other: for every one that exalteth himself shall be abased; and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted.

VANITY, which can mix itself with the best actions, is apt to steal into our religion as much as any one thing in the world; nor is it to be wondered at. Religion is what every man can pretend to; and religion being of so much greater importance than any thing else, gives to some either real or even imagined superiority the highest value and excellence. Besides, when we have bestowed extraordinary pains and attention upon any subject whatever, it is very natural to

value ourselves upon it; if this subject, then, be of an high nature and consequence, this value that we put upon our attainment of it will be high in proportion. Nor are men to be blamed for overcaluing religion-that is impossible; but for overvaluing their own proficiency in it-that is very possible; and for making religious excellence, whether real or supposed, a reason for despising others.

But hitherto we have only been observing that spiritual pride is very natural, is what men easily glide into. We will venture to say, that of all prides spiritual pride is the worst: the pride of riches, the pride of dress, the pride of family, the pride of beauty, though very absurd and offensive, are neither singly, nor all together, so bad as religious or spiritual pride. When I say so bad, I mean, it does so much harm to the man himself or to others.

The effect it has upon the man himself is no other than spoiling entirely his religion, by placing it all upon wrong motives. The pure and proper motive of religion is the desire of pleasing and obeying God. This simply and solely should be our motive; and this motive alone makes it like religion to any purpose. Now the man whose heart is touched or tinctured with spiritual pride performs whatever he has to perform in religion, not so much to please God-which may or may not be in his thoughts-but to vie with or surpass his neighbour; that he may indulge the pleasing contemplation of his advantages and superiority over him. This is no longer religion; it is not, from that time forth, assumed with the intention of aiming at final salvation: it is in reality envy and hatred, pride and ill-will, showing itself in the outward acts and forms of religion and piety; and it is pride, envy, and hatred still-for to

the great Judge of all men, who knows well the heart and the secrets of it, and who judges not by appearance but principles, it makes no difference what cloke or colour our passions put on. Religion is that which must save us. How exceedingly pernicious, therefore, must any bad passions of our nature, that turn of temper be, which places all religion upon this wrong foundation; and so, by making it spring from a motive that is not right, makes it offensive and displeasing to God, instead of being an acceptable service to him!

This is the ground on which I choose at present to fix the pernicious nature of spiritual pride; namely, that it makes all religion proceed from wrong motives, though it might at the same time be accused of making men morose, censorious, unforgiving, and disdainful.

But this domineering opinion of our own proficiency in concerns of religion is pernicious in its effects upon others as well as upon the man himself who is influenced by it. It raises in others a disgust and dislike of religion. When they see that religion only makes a man contemptuous and austere, they naturally enough begin to entertain a prejudice against such religion as an insult upon themselves. No man can bear to be despised in his religion any more than in other things; so that when they find any one so proudly and ostentatiously displaying his abundance of piety; when he seems by his carriage and conversation to let them know how much he is their superior in the most important thing in the world; it is not to be wondered at if they take an aversion to religion, which only tends, in this instance (and it is but few that will look beyond it), to engender superciliousness and self-conceit. I don't say that they argue rightly, but it is sure enough that many do argue so: it is enough to render those justly

chargeable with doing much mischief in the world who thus create an aversion to religion. We are to win our brethren, and bring them over to the service of holiness; and there is sufficient impiety in the world to make it altogether unnecessary to offend by a fastidious pride of godliness.

Such, then, is the nature and effect of religious pride; and I think I may say that no other sort of pride is so dangerous; and such were the effects which were too obvious to escape the censure of our Saviour-particularly as he had constantly before him examples of it in the Pharisees. The little parable which forms the text is calculated exactly to reprove this vice, and is most admirably contrived for that purpose, as well as to show the general temper and character of Christ's religion, which upon this, as upon all other occasions, abounds in quietness, humility, and peace.

What little is necessary to be explained in this parable I will now proceed to observe, though my discourse will answer a good purpose if it be the means only of making you mark and call to mind the parable itself, whenever any sentiment of self-sufficiency in religion rises in your minds; whenever you are tempted, that is, whenever you are tempted to be religious merely out of competition, or to view your own supposed state with vanity, and look upon that of others with disdain.

A Pharisee and Publican went up into the Temple to pray. The Pharisees were a religious sect who pretended to extraordinary strictness, and were of high repute amongst their countrymen for their supposed sanctity. A Publican was a tax-gatherer, employed by the Romans, who had the Jews in subjection, to collect taxes among them. They were, as you may suppose, extremely odious and ill-thought of, partly because the

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Jews, who were weary under their subjection, hated their profession, and partly because the persons themselves deserved it. Now it was not without design that our Saviour in this parable made choice of a Pharisee and Publican; as he thereby intimated that in people and professions of the highest repute you will often meet only pride and hypocrisy-while in others, the meanest, and most despised or disliked, you shall find sincere piety and virtue; that with God, who seeth not as we who regardeth not names, or persons, or professions, the service of one shall be accepted, the other rejected. "The Pharisce prayed thus with himself-God, I thank thee, I am not as other men are, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even as this Publican." This might be all true; indeed, we ought to suppose it was true: but was it his business to remind, as it were, his God of it, or even to bear it in his own mind whilst he was addressing God? It showed that his reflections were employed, not upon the purity and glory of his Creator, but upon himself. Had his thoughts been at all fixed upon his God; had he considered his own infinite remoteness from him; the adorable and astonishing perfections of the being he was addressing; and his own weakness, infirmity, and vileness-he would rather have trembled under the thoughts of addressing him at all, than have come to him with a proud recital of his

imaginary virtues. Nothing, if you reflect upon it, could be more out of season. The Pharisee's prayer was, in truth, no devotion at all; for it was not God, the object of all devotion, that was in his thoughts, but his own good qualities. Though we must suppose, to give the parable its proper force, that the Pharisee was, what he pretended to be, guiltless of extortion and adultery; that he was, comparatively with this Pub