SERMON XVIII.

FROM TAYLOR*.

PART I.

JOHN ix. 31.

Now we know that God heareth not sinners; but if any man be a worshipper of God, and doeth his will, him he heareth.

Ir would be difficult to determine which is the greater wonder, either that prayer, which is a duty so easy, so well adapted to the powers and opportunities of every man, should produce such great effects, and such mighty blessings; or, that we should be so unwilling to use so easy an instrument of procuring so much good. The former declares God's goodness, but the latter publishes man's folly and weakness, who finds in himself such difficulty in performing a condition so easy, so full of advan

* Jeremy Taylor, Bishop of Down and Connor, was born 1613, and died 1667.

tage. But the very facility becomes its objection. At first we know not what to ask; and when we do, we find the utmost difficulty to bring our will to desire it. We either ask what is improper for us with eagerness, or what is proper for us with remissness-whereas God never accepts, or delights in, a prayer, unless it be for a holy thing, to a lawful end, presented unto him upon the wings of zeal and love, of religious sorrow, or religious joy, by sanctified lips, and pure hands, and a sincere heart.

God heareth not sinners. Thus said the blind man, in the words of the text; and confidently too-Now, we KNOW that God heareth not sinners. He had reason for his confidence: it was a saying proverbial among the Jews, and every where recorded in their Scriptures, which were read in their synagogues every sabbath-day. For what is the hope of the HYPOCRITE? says Job; will God hear his cry, when trouble cometh upon him ?-No; he will not. For if I regard INIQUITY in my heart, the Lord will not hear me, said David: and so said the Spirit of the Lord, by the Son of David: When distress and anguish cometh upon you; then shall they call upon me, but I will not answer; they shall seek me early, but they shall not find me. Upon these, and many other authorities, it grew into a proverb, God heareth not sinners. It was a known and established rule in religion; Wicked

persons are neither fit to pray for THEMSELVES nor for OTHERS.

Let us first, then, consider this proposition in the particular sense in which the blind man spoke of it; and then in its fullest extent, as, with analogy and equal reason, it extends to us and our necessities. The man was cured of his blindness; and, being examined concerning him that did it, named, and gloried in, his physician. But the envious Pharisees bid him give the glory to God, and despise the minister; for that, though God himself was good, he wrought the cure by a wicked hand. 66 No," says he, "this is impossible. If this man were a sinner, and a false prophet, (for such was the accusation intended,) God would not hear his prayer, and work miracles by him, in verification of a lie."

The better to elucidate the present subject, we may consider, that there are some whose prayers are sins; and others whose prayers are ineffectual.

Whoever prays to God while he is in a state of sin, his prayer is an abomination unto God. This was a truth so universally believed by all the nations of the world, that, in all religions, washings, and ceremonial expiations, have ever been appointed, previous to entering on the performance of their holy offices. They considered, that what is holy ought never to be touched by that which is impure. They washed their hands, to signify that they

should cleanse them from all iniquity: but they were unable to see through the veil of their ceremonies. They thought, that if their hands alone were washed, God could not fail to accept their offering as if a river could purify their souls from sin, or the ocean itself could wash off the number of their offences. David, however, fully reconciles the ceremony with the mystery, when he says, I will wash my hands in INNOCENCY, O Lord, and so will I go to thine altar.

Among other obstacles to the success of our prayers, is a want of feeling and forbearance with respect to our fellow-creatures. He who lives in a course of oppression and uncharitableness to man, must not expect that his prayers will be heard of God. He that SHEWETH no mercy, shall have JUDGMENT without mercy. God can never accept a prayer that is unholy; and no other can ever be uttered by the wicked. But if we be repentant sinners, God delights to hear, because he delights to save us. When man is holy, God is gracious. A holy life is a continual prayer. And repentance gives us the firmest hope in the mercy of the Almighty; since we are enabled by it to unite our prayers to the intercession of our blessed Saviour.

Let us now consider, what is required in the prayers even of the good, the absence of which makes them ineffectual.

The first thing that hinders the prayer of the good from obtaining its effect, is anger; that is,

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when the spirit of him who prays is in anywise. disturbed by that restless passion. Anger is a fever in the heart, and a sword in the hand; and therefore never suffers a man to be in such a disposition as is requisite for prayer. Prayer is the peace of the spirit, the stillness of meditation, the repose of our cares, and the calm of our tempestuous passions. Prayer is the daughter of Charity, and the sister of Meekness. Anger, on the other hand, is a perfect alienation of the mind from prayer; and therefore is contrary to that devout attention which presents our prayers immediately to God. Thus have I seen the morning-lark rising from her bed of grass, soaring aloft, and singing as she rose, in hopes to pierce beyond the clouds of heaven. But, beaten by "the pitiless storm," and descending more at every breath of the tempest, than she could advance by all the fluttering of her wings, the little sufferer, at length, was forced to sit upon the ground and pant, and stay till the storm was over. Then, however, she resumed her flight, and rose, and sang, even as if she had learnt her music and her motion from an angel, as he passes through the air to execute his ministries on earth. So is sometimes the prayer even of the good. When necessitated to enforce the rules of discipline on one who has wilfully violated them; though guided perhaps by the gentlest charity, yet, as he cannot but express his displeasure, he is obliged to have recourse to anger as its instrument; and the instrument