THE

Augustan Review.

NO. VI. FOR OCTOBER, 1815.

ART. I. Sermons, on subjects chiefly practical; with illustrative notes, and an Appendix, relating to the character of the Church of England, as distinguished both from other branches of the reformation, and from the modern Church of Rome. By the REV. JOHN JEBB, A. M. Rector of Abington, in the diocese of Cashel. London: Cadell and Davies, 1815. THESE sermons are on subjects chiefly practical, and are intended to enforce upon the minds of readers the principal concerns of a Christian life, and to make them fully sensible of the indispensable obligations of virtue and religion. But in his notes, and in the appendix to the work, the author has not forgotten that the ecclesiastical, and civil establishments of the country may justly expect, that every one of us "should do his duty;" and that this duty consists in contributing, in proportion to our means, to the maintenance of that venerable edifice which has long been our just pride and boast.

We look upon this volume as well adapted to the times in which we live, and highly deserving the attention of the public. At a season like this, when religious enthusiasm has been kindled throughout the land, and when every means are put in practice to keep alive the flame of outward devotion, it is highly requisite people should be reminded, that they have other duties to perform, besides those of merely distributing the Sacred Scriptures and talking of religion. And to do this seems to be the main object Mr. Jebb has had in view.

The task which he has undertaken has been performed in an able manner. If he has not often diffused over his compositions that irresistible charm of language, which, in some sermons of recent date, so forcibly arrests the attention; in another very important particular he has constantly succeeded. VOL. 1.

NO. VI.

Aug. Rev.

His lan20

guage is every where the language of a man deeply impressed with the importance of his subject, and heartily desirous of making his readers equally sensible of it. He speaks of religious habits and dispositions, as one who has himself experienced their happy influence. He resembles a physician, who has made trial upon himself of the medicines, with which he purposes to cure the diseases incident to the mortal natures of others. There is an air of sincerity in every thing he utters, which we should think will convince his readers, that his earnestness and fervour spring from a heart really desirous of promoting their welfare. It is manifest, that he understands well his duty as a Christian and a member of society; and the severe rules which he lays down for the regulation of our conduct in the several relations of life, look like so many principles by which he would wish his own conduct to be scrutinized and judged. The duties binding upon a minister of the gospel, in particular, are described with great force. Himself a minister of the gospel, and addressing (as in two of these sermons he does) an assembly of persons belonging also to that sacred profession, he does not say any thing tending either to lessen the number of those weighty obligations that lie upon them; or to apologize for any the slightest neglect of them by himself or others.

The manner of composition best adapted to the use of a clergyman of the Church of England, is laid down in one of his notes, and is a quotation from St. Ambrose. Whether it be an unexceptionable model, will be determined according to the various tastes of different readers. He has generally succeeded well in adapting his style to his thoughts; and, on some occasions, when warmed by his subject, has displayed an energy of expression not often surpassed. The passage we are about to transcribe, will bear as out in this assertion. He is discoursing upon a text, which, after enjoining a religious observance of the sabbath, promises, as a reward to such as do so observe it, that they shall "delight themselves in the Lord." To delight oneself in God, he represents as the highest felicity that goodness can bestow, and as the best remedy for evils of an opposite description. "To weak and vitiated human nature," he observes, "Almighty God is not an object of delight, but apprehension. And, before a calm delight in God can be produced, that uneasy apprehension of God must have been expelled." In the following extract, that superstitious dread of the divine judgments, which commonly haunts the guilty mind, and which

nothing but a just sense of religion can remove, is very strikingly pourtrayed.

"This fear, this apprehension, this uneasiness, is perhaps the most prevalent, and the most deeply-rooted feeling of mankind. It is, in truth, at the bottom of our most painful agitations. What is it that alarms us, in the great convulsions of nature, in the tempest, the thunder, and the earthquake? Is it not our dread of him who operates unseen, and irresistible; who maketh the winds his angels, and the flames his messengers; who setteth on fire the foundations of the mountains; and breaketh up the foundations of the great deep? What is it that gives force and emphasis to the fear of accidents, of battle, of shipwreck, of murder, and of sudden death? Not the mere prospect of dissolution. That might be readily, banished from our view. No! but the conviction that one liveth, before whom we must appear, who will bring to light the hidden things of darkness, and reveal those secrets of our hearts, which are unknown even to ourselves. What is it that infuses that mysterious midnight terror, which appals the stoutest heart; which unnerves him who would undauntedly face an armed host? What, but the consciousness of an invisible, ever-present, and all-seeing God, in whose hand are all the terrors of the universe; who hath but to strike, and we shall perish; to shoot forth his arrows, and we are consumed? It is a fearful thing,' says the Apostle, to fall into the hands of the living God! And what human being is naturally exempted from this fear? What hiding-place of nature, what undiscoverable corner of creation, what slumbering moment of eternity, may shield us from the glance, and grasp of God? He is about us, he is around us, he is within us. Conscience is his viceregent; death is his messenger; judgment is his manifestation; immensity is the sphere of his omnipotence; and his omnipotence shall reign for ever. Who, then, can wonder at the deeptoned exclamation of Job? When I say, my bed shall comfort me, my couch shall ease my complaint, then thou scarest me with dreams, and terrifiest me through visions; so that my soul chooseth strangling, and death rather than life. I have sinned. What shall I do unto thee, O thou preserver of men? Why hast thou set me as a mark against thee, 20 that I am a burthen to myself!" Sermon vii. pp. 171-173.

It is, indeed, too true that, "thus conscience doth make cowards of us all.”

The conditions, however, which we must perform that we may be entitled to the inestimable privilege of delighting in God, are not, according to Mr. Jebb, the easiest imaginable. Some of our readers will, perhaps, be a little startled at the following summary of the duties which are required of us on the Sabbath day.

"1-2. A relinquishment of all common business, and all ordinary pleasure, on the Sabbath day."

"3. A delight in the peculiar occupations and enjoyments of the Sabbath."

"4. A conscientious dedication of the Sabbath to our personal improvement in holiness and virtue."

"5. A serious desire to promote the honour of the Sabbath, by our public and undeviating example."

"6. And such a renunciation, on the Sabbath, of our own ways, our own pleasure, and our own words, as, in due season, and by divine assistance, will make the ways of God, our chosen ways; the pleasure of devotion, our favorite pleasure; and the words of eternal life, the theme of our most cheerful, most animated, and most delightful conversation."

Sermon vii. p. 166.

We are every day in the habit of hearing such absurd opinions respecting that world which we are commanded in Scripture to renounce and tear from our hearts,' under pain of forfeiting our eternal happiness, that we are very glad to find that some rational man has undertaken to set us all right upon the subject.

"What is the world? Is it that system of nature and providence, which God himself hath formed, and hath appointed as our present sphere of operation? Is it that fair and wondrous fabric, which started into being at the creative word, when the morning stars sang together, and the sons of God shouted for joy, and the Maker of all, with tranquil majesty, pronounced that all was very good? Is it that combination of cheerful, animated, co-operative action, by which mind is elicited, intelligence expanded, social intercourse improved, benevolence excited and employed, and capacities matured, for every thing true and honest, just and pure, lovely and of good report, virtuous and praise-worthy? Is this the world which we must renounce? Is this the post from which we must retire? Are we to forego our place and occupation in this mighty sphere; to cease to be men, that we may become Christians; to cease to be Christians, that we may pursue an ideal phantom of unattainable abstraction? God forbid, my brethren! This is God's world; and to malign it, to desert it, to despise it, were to fly in the face of its Maker and preserver; were to forsake the very purpose of our being; and to relinquish the instrumental means of our own religious perfection. But there is, indeed, a world, which the Scripture every where denounces: conformity to which, is everlasting ruin. That world, so lamentably degraded and debased by wicked men and wicked spirits; that agitated and distracted scene of feverish activity, impassioned conflict, visionary hopes, and real misery, which exists every where around us; but through which, the faithful Christian is privileged to move, like the three children, through the burning fiery furnace, loose and without hurt. For upon him the flame hath no power, neither is the hair of his head singed, neither hath the smell of fire passed on him. And how indeed should he be injured? For another walketh with him, even the Son of God." Sermon iii. pp. 52–54.

He takes much pains to persuade us, that we shall lose nothing of our happiness, by the renunciation of that world which he describes. He uses many arguments in the body of the Sermon; and in his notes he brings many quotations from Burke, Chesterfield, Lucretius, and others who have had ample means of procuring the best information on the subject; to show, that those who have possessed the most favorable oppor tunities of worldly enjoyment, have never, on the whole, found

their account in it. He asserts that those, and those only, who five according to the dictates of a well-informed, well-regulated mind, attended by an ever wakeful conscience, and who are rescued from the tyranny which the world exercises over those who are devoted to it, are completely free and happy.

"Yes, my brethren, the faithful Christian is God's own peculiar freeman. Free from the perplexities of doubt, the disquietudes of worldly care, and the tyranny of popular opinion. He is enabled to bring all matters of conduct and feeling to the test of uncompromising principle. And this he does, with ease and expedition. No idle scruples vex the mind enlightened from on high. And the decisions of casuists are little wanting to him, that is animated by the love of God, and the love of man; to him, who takes Christ's example for his pattern, and invokes Christ's spirit for his guide. Such a man is raised above the world; and he alone that is raised above the world, can enjoy it. Others are liable, at every step, to be interrupted and entangled. There is no freedom in their movements; no solid assurance that their footsteps are firmly planted. Impediments without, and hesitance within, may and must give a chilness to the heart, which the countenance can ill disguise. But that Christian, who lives as he may and ought to live, soars free and unimpeded. Conscious, indeed, of the dangers which encompass a deluded world; but thankful that, through divine influence, they are no longer dangers unto him. The love of money, the love of pleasure, the love of power, what are they to him, whose conversation is in Heaven? No Lore than the baubles of children to him who investigates the courses of the stars; no more than the fantastic visions of the night, to him who inhales the breath of morning, and rejoices in the mild magnificence of nature."-Ser. iii. p. 59-61.

In the beginning of the eighth Sermon, he asks a question, which may, perhaps, be looked upon as an indirect attack on some of the religious institutions of the present day, and be treated accordingly. It certainly does seem to imply a suspicion on the part of the proposer, that religious profession often outruns religious practice.

"Never, perhaps, were the Sacred Scriptures more largely disseminated, than at the present day. But the question may be asked more readily, than it can be answered satisfactorily, whether the study of the divine volume keeps pace with its diffusion; whether any considerable number of its possessors, so apprehend, so feel, so apply, and so reduce to practice, its most holy principles, that this age is materially better than the last, and the present generation an improvement upon generations that are past and gone?

"We are not, indeed, to form a gloomy estimate of the times; we are not to despair of the religious public-weal; we are, on the contrary, to rejoice in every growing symptom of improvement; to admire, at once, and emulate, those lights of our own days, who shed around them a lustre more pure, more steady, and more serene, than often illuminated the path, and guided the footsteps, of our fathers. But still, when we Survey the world at large, when we examine even that portion of it which is termed the religious world, we must lament, that profession too com