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-6- 
 
 BENJAMIN HALE.D L 
 
 FBESlDEm' OF HJBABT COLLEGE ^E.VEVAI/y 
 
SERMONS 
 
 Rev. Benjamin Hale, D. D. 
 
 PRESIDENT OF HOBART COLLEGE, 
 
 GENEVA, N. Y. 
 1836-1858. 
 
 WITH MEMOIR, 
 
 BY 
 
 REV. MALCOLM DOUGLASS, D. D, 
 
 CLAREMONT, N. H. 
 
 CLAREMONT MANUFACTURING CO., 
 1883. 
 
TO THE READER. 
 
 The late Dr. Hale in his will named three friends ; The Eev. 
 Wm. H. A. Bissell, D.D., then Rector of Trinity Church, Gen- 
 eva, N. Y. ; Rev. Kendriok Metcalf, D.D., Prof, of the Latin 
 and Greek Languages and Literature, Ilobart College, Geneva, 
 N. Y. ; and Eev. Malcolm Douglass, then Rector of St. Paul's 
 Church, Windsor, Vt. ; to whom as literary executors he en- 
 trusted the examination of his Sermons and Professional 
 writings, witli a view to such disposition of them as might in 
 their judgment seem desirable. This volume is the result of 
 their examination. The Sermons were prepared for the press 
 at an early date ; but their publication was deferred, until a 
 Jlemoir, in some sense worthy of their revered Author, could 
 be prepared. With the Memoir we present a number of very 
 able and instructive Sermons. We shall be well pleased, if 
 the Reader be led by their perusal, to sympathize with our 
 own deep reverence and love for Doctor Hale, of fragrant 
 and blessed memory. 
 
 THE EDITORS. 
 
 June 1, 1883. 
 
PREFACE TO THE SERMONS. 
 
 The Editors offer no apology for presenting these Sermons 
 to the public. Those- who knew and loved Dr. Hale, and re- 
 vere his memory, will recall his pleasant flexible voice, easi- 
 ly reaching a dull ear at the farthest distance, — ^his masterly 
 wisdom, his wholly natural, earnest and reverential manner, 
 and the iiTCsistible strength and persuasion with which his 
 argument, enforced by the most perfect emphasis and intona- 
 tion, conducted the hearer through the subject to its close with 
 unflagging attention. To those, the reading of these Sermons 
 wUl revive the memory of their delivery, as the flavor of an 
 old, rich and mellow vintage, which no interval of time can 
 wholly obliterate. 
 
 Those who knew him not, but who love to read good Eng- 
 lish constructed with a master hand, who appreciate sound 
 Theology, accurate argument, scholarly treatment, deep and 
 broad views, wholesome counsel, illustrated and enforced 
 with wisdom, truth and charity ; will, we think, upon exam- 
 ination, fully justify us in adding this volume to the list of 
 .similar works upon their shelves. 
 
 And the general reader, and the student, who desires to un- 
 derstand and grasp those vital principles of Christian Ethics 
 and Evidence, which deeply affect thoughtful men in their 
 inner and their outer life, and which penetrate the most subtle 
 positions of the doubt and scepticism of the day, will find 
 here, we are persuaded, a searching and lucid handling o 
 many of those principal and often abstruse questions, con 
 ducted with the utmost skill and candor, with great experi- 
 ence and knowledge of men, and in a way most useful to meet 
 and expose erronious and strange doctiine. 
 
PREFACE. y 
 
 The chief perplexity of the Editors was in deciding which, 
 of all the Sermons of Dr. Hale, should be selected to form 
 this volume. Most of those yet in manuscript are equally 
 ahle and valuable, and greatly extend the list of subjects. 
 But it was agreed that this selection should aim to include 
 those Sermons, which, while of value to the general reader, 
 were at the same time most likely to be i-ecalled with peculiar 
 pleasure by those who knew the writer best, and who listened 
 to him upon occasions of the highest interest during his Pres- 
 idential life at Geneva. 
 
 We need say no more to commend this volume to the kind 
 attention of the reader. 
 
 Since this work was laid out, God has taken to Himself one 
 of our number, — the Rev. Kendrick Metcalf, D.D., — an able, 
 good and true man, who has, we doubt not, by the grace of 
 God, earned the crown of Immortality. His intimate associa^ 
 tion with Doctor Hale will be seen in the Memoir, by the few 
 ♦ extracts selected from many letters addressed to him by the 
 Doctor. "We simply do him justice, and ourselves honor, in 
 retaining his name. 
 
 We are the Keader's true friends, 
 
 WILLIAM H. A. BISSELL, 
 KENDEICK METCAI.F, 
 MALCOLM DOUGLASS. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PART I. 
 MEMOm 1-70 
 
 PART II. 
 
 REMINISCENCES OP PRESIDENT HAMI, by • 
 
 John N. Norton, D. D 1 
 
 THE PRESIDENT HALE MEMORIAL, by Andkew 
 
 D. White, LL. D 12 
 
 IN MEMOEIAM, by Thomas D. Bttekall, Esq. . 15 
 SERMONS 33-397 
 
 1. TKUE HAPPINESS FOUND ONLY IN TRUE EELIGION. 33 
 
 Psalm iv. 6. There be many that say, who will show us any 
 good? Lord, lift Thou up the light of Thy countenance 
 upon us. 
 
 2. (BACOALAUEEATE) SOBER-MINDEDNESS IN TOUNG MEN. 47 
 
 Titus ii. 6. Young men likewise exhort to be sober-minded. 
 
 3. PIETY AND MORALITY INSEPARABLE. ... 65 
 
 Matthew xsdi. 39. And the second is like unto it. 
 
 4. (baccalaureate) PERSONAL RESPONSIBILITY. . 80 
 
 Prov. ix. 12. If thou be wise, thou shalt be wise for thyself ; 
 but if thou scornest, thou shalt bear it. 
 
CONTENTS. vii 
 
 5. THE CHRISTIAN'S VOW AND WARrARE. ... 99 
 
 Hebrews xii. 4. Ye have not yet resisted unto blood, striving 
 against Sin. 
 
 6. (bacoalaubbate) the invisible realized by 
 
 FAITH. 114 
 
 Hebrews xi. 27. For he endured as seeing Him Who is invis- 
 ible. 
 
 7. OPINIONS NO EXCUSE FOR ACTIONS. . . .128 
 
 Prov. xxiii. 7. For as he thinketh in his heart, so is he. 
 
 8. MAN'S WORK AND GOD'S GRACE. . . ' . .140 
 
 Phil. il. 12, 13. Work out your own salvation with fear and 
 trembling. For it is God which worketh in you both to will 
 and to do of His good pleasure. 
 
 9. (baccalaureate) god's TRUTH THE ONLY TRUE 
 
 LIGHT. 150 
 
 Matt. vi. 23. If the Light that is in thee be Darkness, how 
 great is that Darkness. 
 
 10. NO RELEASE FROM GOD'S SERVICE. . . .170 
 
 Ezek. XX. 32, 33. And that which cometh into your mind 
 shall not be at all, that ye say, wo will be as the heathen, as 
 the families ot the countries, to serve wood and stone. 
 As I live, saith the Lord God, surely with a mighty hand, 
 and with a stretched out arm, and with fury poured out, 
 will I rule over you. 
 
 11. (baccalaureate) a fiery test OF FAITH AND 
 
 DUTY. 185 
 
 Daniel ill. 16. We are not careful to answer thee in this mat- 
 ter. 
 
 12. GOD WITH us. 205 
 
 Matt. i. 23. And they shall call His name Emmanuel, which 
 being interpreted is God with us. 
 
Viii CONTENTS. 
 
 I 
 
 13. (BACCAiATJEEATE) EAITH A LAW OP tlFE. . . 221 
 
 Habakkuk ii. 4. The just shall live by his faith. 
 
 14. (baccalaureate) the law of LIBEKTr. . . 218 
 
 James ii. 12. So apeak ye, and so do, as they that shall be 
 judged by the law of liberty. 
 
 15. GENESIS ILLUSTRATED Bf (lEOLOGT. . . . 267 
 
 Genesis i. 2. And the earth was without form and void. 
 
 16. THE EEEIGIOUS TRAINING OF CHILDREN. . . 297 
 
 Proverbs xsii. 6. Train up a child in the way he should go' 
 and when he is old, he will not depart from it. 
 
 17. THE DIG^^T^ and value of truth. . . . 318 
 John xviii. 38. Pilate saith unto Him, what is truth? 
 
 18. the work of the MINISTRY. .... 335 
 II. Timothy iv. 5. Make full proof of thy ministry. 
 
 19. CHRISTIANITr NOT OF OBSCURE ORIGIN. . . 361 
 
 Acts xxvi. 26. For tliis thing was not done in a corner. 
 
 20. CHISTIANITY NOT OF OBSCURE ORIGIN, (concluded) 379 
 Acts xxvi. 26. For this thing was not done in a corner. 
 
BENJAMIN HALE, D. D. 
 
 The subject of this Memoir was one of the most ge- 
 nial, equable, wise, and wholesome, of men. After 
 j-ears of separation, his memory is still greeted by all 
 who knew him, with an indescribable glow of confidence 
 and affection. In attempting to delineate his life, we 
 cannot adequately portray the fulness and grace with 
 which, from youth up, he occupied the places allotted to 
 him in God's providence on earth. We adopt for our- 
 selves the words of the late Thomas D. Burrell when 
 asked to contribute his reminiscences of Dr. Hale. "The 
 impression on my mind of the whole man in repose still 
 remains in lines perfectly clear and well defined. His 
 quiet manner, his winning smile, his cheerful spirit that 
 seemed to live only in the present, wholly unconscious 
 of his own great powers and attainments, are all before 
 me ; but I can no more convey this impression to the 
 minds of others, bj' the few detached facts and incidents 
 of his life that stiU remain floating in my memory, than 
 I could show the force of the Niagara by the ripples and 
 eddies on its surface." Thus we can but seize upon the 
 salient points of his history, and record them briefly 
 with such illustrations as may be gathered by the way. 
 For this we have the invaluable aid of a sketch from Dr. 
 Hale's own pen of his early life, also the daily record of 
 his work for years, together with divers letters, friendly, 
 sketches, and our own personal recollections. But how 
 inadequate our work is, none can better understand than 
 
2 MEMOm OF 
 
 those who knew him best. The full record of his life is 
 laid up in the treasury of that Omniscient One, Whom he 
 humbly tried to serve, Whose countenance is joy, and 
 Whose loving favour is life eternal. 
 
 Benjamin Hale was born on the 23d of November, 
 1797, in Newbury, Mass., now a part of the City of 
 Newburyport. He was the eldest son of Thomas Hale, 
 who was the grandson of the fifth Thomas, in that series 
 of Hales, whose first representative came to Newbury in 
 1635. (1638?). His mother was Alice Little, who was 
 a daughter of Hon. Josiah Little of Newbury, and grand- 
 daughter of Col. Moses Little, an officer in the Revolu- 
 tionary army. Both sides of the house were of a vigorous, 
 industrious and useful race, held in honor by their fellow 
 citizens, and distinguished for their domestic virtues, 
 their sterling goodness, and their faithfulness in the dis- 
 charge of trusts and duties. 
 
 His contemporaries testify that as a child he was stu- 
 dious, quiet and kind. Though not often sharing in the 
 rougher sports of boyhood he was very active, and a great 
 favorite with all his companions for his pleasant temper, 
 and the obliging skill with which he carved out their toys, 
 mended their broken playthings, or contrived complica- 
 tions of machinery with an ingenuity that called forth 
 their wonder and admiration. He greatl}' frequented the 
 society of aged people, was beloved by them, and lis- 
 tened with eagerness and ready questions to their tales 
 of Revolutionary times. He was well acquainted with 
 the books in the houses where he visited, and would re- 
 main quietly, hour by hour, seated upon the fioor, in- 
 tensely occupied with his favourite volumes which were 
 strewed around him closely, within his reach. For infor- 
 mation as to this interesting period, and his acadomio 
 and early professional life, we shall serve the reader best, 
 
BENJAMIN HALE, D. D. 3 
 
 by presenting in full Dr. Hale's charming autobiograph- 
 ical sketch, begun (alas ! not linished) for his children's 
 reading. 
 
 My Childhood. 
 
 I suppose from what I have heard, that I began this 
 summer (1800) to go to Ma-am Fowler's school. I re- 
 member some of my school days there, though not the 
 beginning ; and that Dudlej' A. Tyng, elder brother of 
 Eev. S. H. Tyng, D.D., was there. I could read cur- 
 rently before I was five years old. I have been told of 
 a neighbor who to refute the assertion of a man that 
 there was no use in putting a child to school before 
 eleven, replied "I can show you a boy of five who can 
 read better than you." Ma-am Fowler (Anna Fowler) 
 had taught a private primary school for many years and 
 continued to do so some years after my time. She lived 
 to a good old age, d^-ing Dec. 1, 1854, aged 96. 
 
 About 1804 I went to the "District School," at the 
 new School House, a little above the Belleville Meeting 
 House in High St. The first Master I recollect going to 
 was Eev. E. Coffin, who had been a Congregational Min- 
 ister at Brunswicli, Me. The best however of all my 
 earlier male teachers was Archibald Mc Phail, a Scotch- 
 man from Aberdeen. He taught in Belleville I think 
 two years, perhaps more. I studied with him the usual 
 school studies, Reading, Writing, Geography (Morse's 
 and Parish's) , Arithmetic (Walsh's) , Grammar, (I be- 
 gan I think with Usher's.) Mr. Mc Phail had not re- 
 ceived a classical education but had been y ell taught in 
 the common school branches, was a man of great viva- 
 city of mind, somewhat fiery in temperament but very 
 kind and genial. He taught well, and I suppose I took 
 kindly to his teaching, and I was a good deal of a favor- 
 
4 MEMOIB OF 
 
 ite with him. He took great pains to teach me to write 
 well, and finding me ready set me to copy all the orna- 
 mented title pages of copy books within reach. This 
 gave me great facility with my pen, and led to my taste 
 for ' '■flourishing." My father always paid great atten- 
 tion to the teachers of his children, and Mr. Mc Phail 
 was often at our house, and sometimes took me to walk 
 with him. With him I took my first walk to the Boiling 
 Spring, where we sat down and had a picnic. That 
 walk invested. the Spring with a good deal of poetry. I 
 remember too with pleasure a visit with him at Hamp- 
 ton, where he had taught before coming to Belleville. 
 "We spent Sunday there ; stopped at Mrs. Greenleaf s 
 and took tea on Sunday afternoon at Mr. Carroll's. I 
 remember the hospitality and kindness with which we 
 were treated, — the drop cakes and the honey. Tlie 
 flavor remains to this day, and teaches me the value of 
 kindness to a boy. I was then, I think, about nine years 
 old. Dr. Appleton, who went in 1807 to Bowdoin Col- 
 lege, was then, I think, at Hampton. 
 
 Mr. Mc Phail was called from the Belleville School to 
 one of the public schools in Newburyport, viz : that at 
 the upper end of the Mall. I followed him. I do not 
 recollect who took his place at Belleville, nor how long I 
 went to his school in town. He was afterwards the as- 
 sistant or English teacher at the Newburyport Academy, 
 and afterwards had a private school in a little building in 
 Green Street, where the Roman Catholic church now 
 stands. I went to the Newburyport Academy one year — 
 about 1809 — (perhaps 1808-9) while he taught there. 
 Mr. Abiel Chandler was the Principal, afterwards a suc- 
 cessful merchant in Boston ; and founder by his will, of 
 the Scientific School at Dartmouth College. Mr. C. was 
 a stiff man in his manners, and a stern disciplinarian) 
 
BENJAMIN HALE, D. D. 5 
 
 thougti I believe at bottom kind and good. His mannei 
 repressed me, and according to my recollections, I made 
 no great progress under his teaching. I began Latin 
 with him, but dry tasks in the Grammar were made more 
 distasteful by the harsh manner of my teacher, and I 
 worked at it unwillingly, and begged off from it when I 
 left the academy at the end of the year. Indeed I sup- 
 pose that my leaving the academy so soon was connected 
 with the strong aversion I had to continuing the study. I 
 had not any previous aversion, for I remember well ut- 
 tering to my father some of my day dreams of what I 
 meant to do, as we were riding home from Exeter a 3ear 
 or two before. We had been to the Annual Exhibition 
 and I was full of plans of learning, plans which embraced 
 more languages than I have yet learned. This I think 
 must have been in 1807 ; the j'ear my uncle Josiah Little 
 left Exeter to enter college. I had among my class- 
 mates in Latin at the academy, my brother Moses L. 
 Hale, and Jacob Little, now the Wall Street broker. 
 
 I went again to the Belleville school, but when Mr. 
 Mc Phail opened his school in Green Street, I again be- 
 came his pupil. I studied Surveying etc., in addition to 
 the ordinary studies of an English school. Mr. Mc Phail 
 continued a few years longer in Newburyport, and then 
 went to Washington, D. C, to take charge of a school. 
 There he died. I think of him more gratefully than any 
 of my early teachers. He was kind and genial though 
 strict ; a successful teacher, clear in his methods, if I 
 may trust my boyish impressions, and ingenious in 
 expedients to quicken the reluctant faculties of his 
 pupils. To me he was always kind. I have a curious 
 proof of his influence with me in a tinge of Scotch ac- 
 cent, which I suppose I got from him and retain to this 
 time. I say Scotch accent : I have often in the course of 
 
6 MEMOIR OF 
 
 my life been surprised at being told th^it I did not speak 
 likie a New Englander, and sometimes being taken, by 
 those who have heard me preach without knowing me, 
 for a foreigner. "What the cause could be, I never sus- 
 pected, till a Scotch gentleman, who was dining with me 
 some four or five years ago, asked me "if I had never 
 had a Scotch school master?" I referred to Mr. Mc- 
 Phail — and he said he guessed it from my pronunciation. 
 This gentleman had been a teacher, and was then in 
 Geneva, in company with several young men, whom he 
 had prepared for college. 
 
 Though I look back upon my year at the academy as 
 not a profitable one, I have among my books a copy of 
 the Mirror in two volumes, with my name and the 
 "Kecord of Merit" inscribed by my teachers. -My year 
 was not I suppose altogether misspent. 
 
 Some time after I had left Latin and the academy, 
 my father, whose quiet determination it had long been to 
 send me to college, said to me, "you had better resume 
 your Latin for the present, and bye and bye we shall see 
 what is next to be done.'' I did so, and studied it under 
 Mr. Benj. D. Emerson and Mr. Thomas Tracy, at the 
 Belleville school. This continued until I went to Atkin- 
 son Academy in- the autumn of 1813. 
 
 Mr. Emerson was another of the good teachers of my 
 early days ; a fair scholar and a quiet, good tempered 
 man. He was a very large man, with whom no pupil 
 would be likely to provoke a collision, and he governed 
 easily. With less of the fervid in Ms temperament than 
 Mr. McPhail, and less genius perhaps, he had more of 
 quiet dignity. Mr. Tracy was also a teacher of taste 
 and talent, but not a man to inspire vigorous scholarship, 
 nor to exact thorough scholarship ; a man of poetic 
 mind, who many years after translated "Undine," &c. 
 
BENJAMIN HALE, D. D. 7 
 
 Here perhaps ends my childhood. I was to go from 
 home with some responsibility for my own conduct, — I 
 was henceforth a juvenis. My childhood had been a hap- 
 py one. Better parents, kinder, more faithful, more 
 judiciously considerate, few have been blessed with. My 
 father was domestic in his tastes, and when his dailj' 
 business was over he was in the bosom of his family, 
 and we loved to march and sing with him as he paced 
 the parlor on winter evenings. My mother was a true 
 mother. Her children were her jewels, and she cher- 
 ished them. But she was a Roman mother in the best 
 sense, not weakly indulgent. She was a Christian mother 
 and sought faithfully to impress upon our minds a sense 
 of our duty to God. She cared for all our wants, saw 
 that we went well dressed and punctually to school, and 
 when school was over attracted us home by the kind recep- 
 tion we were sure to meet. "School is a hungry plac^' 
 was often said by an old uncle who was a great deal at 
 my father's ; and a piece of gingerbread and turnover 
 were alwaj's ready for us. We were no truants either at 
 school or at home. Our play was generally in the large 
 garden attached to the house, or otherwise about the 
 premises. Our evenings we spent at home. No playing 
 in the streets at night ' 'wherein all the beasts of the forest 
 do move," — at those hours, when the idle are accustomed 
 to riot' and boys oftenest learn mischief. We had near 
 relations around ns, whose dwellings were other homes to 
 us. My grandfather. Col. Little, lived in the next house 
 to us, having removed into it from Turkey Hill, in the 
 winter of ] 801-2. We were accustomed to run in and 
 out freely, and his house was familiarly spoken of as ' 'the 
 other house.'" We were often at his table, and frequently 
 spent evenings there. He was fond of children, expected 
 us, and felt that we were neglecting him if he did not see 
 
8 MEMOIR OF 
 
 us daily. My father's aunt, Mrs, Atkinson, lived with hei 
 husband directly across the street. My father made her 
 a daily visit at least, and we children were there as often, 
 if not as systematically. She had been as a mother to my 
 father, and she loved and cherished us. We were free of 
 her house and knew well where to find bread and cheese, 
 and apples and pears in their season, whenever we 
 pleased. M3' uncle Ebenezer lived with her till her death. 
 At my grandfather's lived my aunts, Mrs Sarah L. and 
 Mary, now my stepmother. My two great-grandmothers. 
 Little and Toppan, were frequent visitors there. One of 
 them making her home at Turkey Hill, at my great-uncle's, 
 Moses L. Esq ; the family residence of the Littles, for 
 nearly two centuries. The other at her son's, my great 
 uncle Enoch Toppan's, in Toppan's Lane, where the 
 Toppans had lived about as long. My mother's sister 
 Nancy (Mrs Atkinson) lived in town, and several fami- 
 lies of the Toppans lived near. I was at home at aunt 
 Atkinson's and visited often my other relations. Another 
 old relative, Mrs. Molly Toppan, the widow of a great, 
 great uncle, lived in Merrill's Lane. She was 70 when I 
 was born. My mother was her warm and steady friend 
 and very attentive to her wants. I was a favorite with 
 her, and frequently carried her good things from my 
 mother, and spent an afternoon with her. She had no 
 one living with her but a daughter and they lived on to- 
 gether till she died at the age of 105. She was a woman 
 of simple and sincere piety and retained to the end of 
 her protracted life not only her faculties of memory etc., 
 but her delicacy of sentiment. She died at last of a 
 disease most usually incident to childhood, scarletina. 
 It was always her wish that I should be a clergyman, 
 and she was not quite satisfied that I was not a parish 
 minister, though she was of too well disciplined spirit, 
 
BJSNJAMIN SALE, D. D. 9 
 
 not to acquiesce in what she could not but regard as the 
 direction of God's good providence concerning me. I 
 speali of her thus fully, because I feel that there was a 
 strong bond between us, and I cannot but feel also, that 
 I may have profited by her simple and earnest praj'ers. 
 Though by her marriage and residence, she became a 
 Congregationalist, she was baptized, as she told me, in 
 the Episcopal Church in Boston. 
 
 Till 1807 we attended Rev. Dr. Spring's meeting, hav- 
 ing been led there by the fact that our venerable Uncle 
 Atkinson was a Deacon of his Church. He always 
 sat in the Deacon's Seat, and Aunt A. was so very 
 deaf, that she only went to meeting on Communion Sun- 
 daj's, and his pew, near the pulpit, was the one we occu- 
 pied. Behind our pew was Mr. Philip Baglej''s, then 
 and for many years the keeper of the gaol. Sitting so close 
 to so formidable a personage, we behaved very circum- 
 spectly. Dr. Spring was a Calvinist of the Hopkinsian cast, 
 and carried out his doctrines very logical^ in his specu- 
 lations, I suppose ; but he was a genial man and of much 
 practical common sense, kind, and as I recollect him, at- 
 tractive in his manners in private. I used occasionally 
 to visit at his house, and was well acquainted with some 
 of his sons. I remember him well as he appeared in the 
 pulpit and the very tones of his voice, and some of the hab- 
 itual expressions of his prayers. He was an ardent pol- 
 itician, a strong Federalist, and very free to express in 
 his sermons on Fast and Thanksgiving days, his political 
 sentiments. He was a leading man in the formation of 
 the Foreign Mission Society, and in the establishment of 
 the Theological Seminary at Andover, and eminent among 
 the Congregational clergy of Massachusetts. A man of 
 clear head and strong will, he could not be without mark- 
 ed influence. 
 
10 MEMOIR OF 
 
 After 1807, we attended meeting at Belleville, the 
 meeting house having been built that jear. The clergy- 
 man, Rev. James Miltimore, was a man of milder type 
 of character, less extreme in his opinions, and always and 
 everywhere a courteous gentleman. Dr. Spring not un- 
 frequently caused offence by the harshness of his expres- 
 sions, Mr. Miltimore never. My mother became a "pro- 
 fessor of religion" under his ministry, and soon after that 
 it was, that her children were baptized. I remember it. 
 There were then seven of us. Five of Capt. Joshua Pils- 
 bury's cliildren were baptized at the same time, and the 
 daughter of Mr. Amos Atkinson, his youngest child ; 
 thirteen of us in all. 
 
 My father was not a "professor of religion" — that is 
 he had not been formally received into the communion of 
 the Congregational Church. But he regularly on Sunday 
 evenings catechized us in the Westminster Assembly's 
 Catechism. After tea we stood up in order around him, 
 and then went through the questions and answers to the 
 end of the Commandments. We went no farther, but re- 
 peated reiteration made the catechism familiar to us to 
 that point. It was not accompanied with explanations, 
 we said it verbatim, reverently and accurately, and when 
 the recitation was over we took our seats. It left its im- 
 press, a strong one, on my mind. I had at an early age 
 a pretty clear notion of Theological doctrine of the type 
 of the Westminster Catechism (as held by the Orthodox 
 of that region) and accepted Calvinism and defended it. 
 Some of its peculiar points puzzled me, and seemed hard- 
 ly to be consistent with the testimony of my conscious- 
 ness ; but I was faithful to it, till larger acquaintance 
 with the doctrines and history of the Church satisfied me 
 that that which was peculiar to it rested more on 
 philosophic grounds than on Revelation ; and that many 
 
BENJAMIN HALE, D. D. \\ 
 
 of its speculations had been fruitful of evil. Calvinism 
 properly so called was never taught us at home, except 
 in the catechism. Its peculiarities were never preached 
 so far as I can remember by Mr. Miltimore, and none of 
 our immediate friends reallj- held them except perhaps 
 Uncle Deacon, and he was a man of few words, and not 
 given to controversy. 
 
 Such was the atmosphere in which we lived. In a 
 home as pleasant as can easily be found in this fallen 
 woi'ld, cheered with good temper and kindness ; surround- 
 ed bj' friends and relatives who alwaj-s made us welcome ; 
 among old people, some very old when I was very young, 
 I seem to know New England very far back, and I learn- 
 ed not to associate age with decrepitude or sadness, for 
 ray aged friends were neither decrepit nor melancholj'. 
 We were carefully impressed with a sense of religious ob- 
 ligations. I may say that I cannot recollect the time when I 
 did not feel it, and though at some times much less than 
 others, I am thankful that when I left home I was un- 
 tainted with vice, and liad a source of strengtli in the 
 principles I had been taught and the habits in which I 
 had been brought up. 
 
 Academy and College. 
 
 I went to Atliinson Academy, N. H., in the early 
 autumn of 1813. This town was the birth-place of my 
 father, and some of his old friends and relations still 
 lived there. 
 
 I boarded in the family of Mr. Caleb Noyes, an old 
 gentleman of quiet habits, and a good farmer. His wife 
 was living ; and a son, who was also married and had three 
 children, lived in the family with them. It was a home 
 place. I was treated as a member of the family, though 
 with the , consideration of a boarder, — rwas made free of 
 
12 MEMOIR OF 
 
 the cupboards at once, and all my wants were liberally 
 attended to, and all for $ 1 .75 per week. My old friend, 
 a distant relative, A. B. W. Tenney, joined me some time 
 in the winter or spring, I think, and we pursued our 
 studies together. Before the year was out, we had one 
 or two other fellow boarders, j^oung men who had come 
 to school because they had been thrown out of employ, 
 and who had no very serious purpose in study. 
 
 The academy was the fourth established in the state, 
 and had a good reputation. It was under the single in- 
 struction of Hon. John Vose, who had been many years 
 its Principal, and, though a man of solid attainments and 
 clear head, was without enthusiasm. He taught well, so 
 far as he did teach, but imparted no great impulse to his 
 pupils. I remember a number of our fellow pupils, but 
 I have met with very few of them in the subsequent course 
 of my life. I went to college the next autumn, well pre- 
 pared as preparation then went, and it was quite as hon- 
 est as it is now ; but I do not look upon my year at 
 Atkinson as a very profitable one, though it gave me a 
 chapter in the experience of life such as I have had no 
 ivhere else. I had read, before entering college, all of the 
 Eclogues, Georgics, and ^neid of Virgil and twelve ora- 
 tions of Cicero in Latin, and the whole of the New Tes- 
 bament in Greek. This was the full amount required. 
 [ had written Latin, and was a proficient in English 
 Grammar, Geographj', Arithmetic and some other practi- 
 cal Mathematics ; — but had read nothing of Algebra ; and 
 of Geometry nothing but that practical Geometry which 
 was prefixed to some of the elementary books of Survey- 
 ing. We had a Debating Society at Atkinson, but there 
 was not much of literary ambition, and we had not many 
 books beyond those used in study. 
 
 The Principal of the Academy was the most intellect- 
 
BENJAMIN HALE, D. D. 13 
 
 ual man in the town. There was no lawyer there, and 
 the only other professional man beside the minister was 
 an old physician, with whom I had no acquaintance. 
 The minister. Parson Peabodj', was an old man more than 
 seventy years old, and had been there many years. My 
 father, born soon after his settlement, was the first child 
 whom he baptized, and mj- grandfather before his death 
 was one of his deacons. He was a hearty old man, of 
 great kindness, and frank manners, and greeted me, when 
 1 met him, very cordially. He had a A^ery small salary, 
 and sustained himself by keeping boarders. I attended 
 his meeting regularly, but his congregation was very 
 small, though there was no other place of worship. 
 
 Atkinson was a farming town, without any considerable 
 village, and might seem to te a safe place to send a boj'. 
 It certainly was, from these circumstances, comparatively 
 safe. There were not many enticements to dissipation. 
 But there was an exceeding want of moral and religious 
 tone. The minister of the Congregational Society was 
 aged and had little activity remaining. The few people 
 who came to the Sunday services stood about the doors, 
 till it was time to begin. They were cold listeners while 
 in the house, and left it to talk about what they pleased. 
 
 The farmers about were as often Universalists as any- 
 thing. Some of those whom 1 saw at my boarding house 
 were decidedlj- so. Thcj- were all worthy people in their 
 way, industrious, good livers, and good neighbors, — mind- 
 ed their own business, and were ready to lend a helping 
 hand when called on. But they had little sense of relig- 
 ious duty — except to avoid open impiety. I well remeni- 
 ber that on one Fast Day in New Hampshire my old 
 landlord went to Haverhill, Mass., to sell a load of wood ; 
 it was not Fast Day there. 
 
 The condition of Atkinson was not singular in its want 
 
14 MEMOIR OF 
 
 of religious influence. The common theory of New 
 England did not recognize the Church as a divine in- 
 corporation, having authority from the beginning and 
 independent of popular will, but as a Society of their 
 own framing,* after what they imagined to be the New 
 Testament model. — They joined it who pleased, and 
 those who did not please were amenable to nobody. 
 The clergyman was only an officer of this Church, and 
 was made so by election ; and if he exerted any influ- 
 ence, it was by his talent or address, or some personal 
 power, rather than by theories of his office. If he could 
 make himself welcome, he was welcome. Otherwise, 
 parson or no parson, he was equally an intruder, un- 
 less in families who had voluntarily joined his flock. 
 An eloquent or exciting preacher would be followed, — a 
 dull one neglected. Popularity was of course temporary, 
 so would be religious influence. Eeal talent is alwaj's 
 scarce where there is not wealth to pay for it ; and the 
 places where there was poor pay generally got poor 
 preaching ; and as preachiug was all, religious apathy 
 and neglect of all worship easily overspread the country. 
 I had unfortunately a couple of somewhat reckless and 
 gay associates among my fellow boarders. And though 
 I did not fall into any profligacy I entered very heartily 
 into the amusements of the young people, and lost a good 
 deal of the religious feeUng which I carried to A. with 
 me. 
 
 ■ In the Autumn of 1814, 1 went to Dartmouth College, 
 in Hanover N. H. There were about thirty in the class 
 which I entered. I was among the youngest. The man- 
 
 * A CongregatJonal Church, is a volwntary society, a company of pro- 
 fessed Christians, who covenant and associate together, elect their oTrn 
 ofScers as "their inalienable right," make their own creed, and manage 
 their own affairs, etc, Punchard, p. 12, and p. 118. 
 
 •it 
 
BENJAMIN HALE, D. D. 15 
 
 ners of the students were at- that time generally rude, 
 and the appearance of many very coarse. I was advised 
 by some one that if I kept my shoes blacked, etc. I should 
 lose my credit as a scholar. The rooms were very meanly 
 furnished, and it was no strange thing for a student to go 
 to chapel with ungartered hose, a bandanna handkerchief 
 wisped round his neck as a substitute for a cravat,, and 
 a great coat thrown over his shoulders as a cloak with 
 the arms swinging. 
 
 Nothing very memorable occurred till late in the spring 
 or early in the summer of 1815, when a great revival 
 commenced in college. I cannot recall the beginning of 
 it. My first recollection in connection with it was being 
 in a thronged conference meeting at the Commons Hall, 
 where a sermon of President Edwards was read from the 
 text 'their feet shall slide in due time." The impression 
 produced by it was strong. I had been, as I have said, 
 religiously educated. I believed most fully in the great 
 truths of Revelation, and was prepared to feel the weight 
 of such a discourse, and to sympathize with the deeply 
 serious impression which reigned around me. There 
 were about fifty who at that time were thought to be 
 converted. I was among them, and I suppose I may 
 say that at that time I commenced a professed and more 
 systematic religious life. I made a regular duty of read- 
 ing the Scriptures and prayer ; and as I look back upon 
 my feelings and purposes from this distance of time, I 
 judge favorably of the sincerity with which I engaged in 
 religious duties. Whatever fluctuations there may have 
 been in my feelings since, I have never from that time 
 ceased to recognize my religious duty, and with more or 
 less earnestness to make it m}' daily business. My mind 
 was in no inconsiderable degree of tumult. The current 
 theorj- of regeneration taught us to look for some great 
 
16 MEMOIS OF 
 
 and wonderful change, and ro}' conscious shortcoming 
 rendered me perpetually anxious. There was a great 
 deal less of excitement than sometimes appeai-s on such 
 occasions, and none of those wild frenzies which have oc- 
 casionally been their disgrace. The theory which makes 
 everything hang upon a movement of the will had not 
 then been developed, and it was not expected that one 
 who in the morning was a hardened sinner and utterly 
 careless would before noon be recognized as a convert. 
 The anxious seat had not then been invented. The 
 working of the mind which ended in a hope generally 
 continued several days ; and the spiritual directors desir- 
 ed to see a good deal of distress, and deep convictions of 
 sin, before they would encourage hope. There was of 
 course less of that excessively superficial excitement 
 which has marked many more recent "revivals"; an 
 excitement so superficial, that it might be slept off 
 at night and utterly forgdtten in the morning. The 
 subjects of the revival were I presume generally, as I 
 was, young persons who had been religiously trained, and 
 who needed not teaching, or being convinced of the gen- 
 eral duties of religion, but to be brought to a decision to 
 lead a religious life. They were aided in making it by 
 a common sympathy. They believed that the Spirit of 
 God was moving among them, and although I do not 
 hold to the view which was then common to myself and 
 the rest, far be it from me to attribute to any lower 
 source the good that might be wrought in any of us at 
 that time. I think the Spirit is always ready. 
 
 Young converts were put forward to pray and exhort. 
 The practice may sometimes possibly have an incidental 
 good effect in producing in some diflSdent minds vigorous 
 resolution, but its tendency in general is bad. I remem- 
 ber very well the first time I was called on to "lead in 
 
BENJAMIN HALE, D. D. 17 
 
 praj-er." I did it, but I know not how. I staggered 
 and reeled through the words. The blackness of dark- 
 ness seemed to be before me, and it now appears to me 
 as if the pressure on my brain blotted out thought, and 
 I uttered only habitual words, incoherent in meaning, 
 though brought to me by some indistinct association of 
 sound and place. I got through it in more danger of 
 apoplexy than of being puffed up. I had done it as a 
 duty, and that in doing it I had done as well as I could 
 a duty, was all the satisfaction I derived from it. If 
 any one was edified, it was in seeing me come out, or lie 
 may have mistaken my perplexed struggle for suitable 
 thoughts and words in the whirl and confusion of mj 
 mind, for "the groanings which cannot be uttered." A 
 short time after this, I went in company with two or three 
 other students older than myself to hold a conference 
 meeting at a school-house in Lebanon near Lyman's 
 bridge, over the Connecticut. I did not pray then, but 
 endeavored to make a little exhortation. I made short 
 and poor work of it. I read a good deal that summer 
 in "Baxter's Saint's Rest," Edwards on the Affections," 
 "Flavel's Touchstone," and "Keeping the Heart," and a 
 little book called "The Preciousness of Christ to the Be- 
 liever," or by some similar title. It seemed to me that 
 I ought to deny myself, and I immediatel3- commenced 
 restricting myself in food etc. I do not remember how 
 long that lasted, but I became satisfied before many 
 weeks that I was not acting altogether wisely in my re- 
 strictions. 
 
 Among my other recollections of this time, I remem- 
 ber hearing the Church of England spoken of. It was 
 remarked that there were so many Bishops in England, 
 and not more than one converted man among them. I 
 knew very little then of the Church of England and sup- 
 
18 MEMOm OF 
 
 posed it might possibly be so. I had had no prejudices 
 instilled into my mind against it. I had sometimes, very 
 seldom, been at St. Paul's, the church at Newburyport, 
 and had recognized the beauty and impressiveness of 
 the service and was not disposed to scoff at it or its 
 ministers. I had however read, in the Massachusetts 
 Missionary Magazine, stories of the persecutions of the 
 Puritans by the ministers of the Church, and believed, as 
 every young New Englander does, in the wrongs which 
 my ancestors had sustained. 
 
 The summer passed on, and I struggled to bring my 
 thoughts and feehngs to the standard of the Gospel, so 
 far as I understood it. I felt many discouragements 
 that I could not perfectly control my thoughts, and that 
 my feelings were not always in a high and pure religious 
 tone. I did not aim at too much, but I expected too 
 much at once. 
 
 My health suffered, I know not from what cause, but 
 one day as I came out of the river. In which I had been 
 bathing with some of my companions, and was dressing 
 myself, my eyes became glazed and my head dizzy and 
 I came near falling. Supposing that it would be better 
 for mj' health to be in a climate to which I had been ac- 
 customed near the sea, I left Dartmouth College at the 
 close of my Freshman year in August, 1815, intending 
 to enter at Bowdoin College, and there finish my under- 
 graduate course. I left on Commencement morning, 
 and went to Newbury, Vt., in the stage, to my uncle, 
 Josiah Little, Jr., Esq., and made a visit among my 
 friends there before I went home. 
 
 I did not enter at Bowdoin immediately. There were 
 some considerable differences in the arrangements of the 
 studies in the two Colleges. I had anticipated the course 
 at Bowdoin in some things, and some things studied 
 
BENJAMIN HALE, D. D. 19 
 
 there in the Freshman year I had not attended to. I 
 therefore remained out of college one term, and entered 
 at Bowdoin in Feb. 1816. 
 
 A part of the autumn and winter before going to 
 Brunswick, I passed at Byfield, reciting to Mr. Abbot, 
 Principal of Dummer Academy. I boarded at Mr. 
 Lemael Noyes' an old man of about seventy, in whose 
 house I found mj'self very comfortable. It was one of the 
 old houses of my native town, and my host remembered 
 much of former days which he had witnessed, and had 
 much traditionary information. 
 
 Dr. Parish, an eloquent man, was the minister of Bj'- 
 field. I attended his meeting sometimes, and sometimes 
 I spent the Sunday at my father's. I well remember how 
 difficult I found it, situated as I was, to live as I desired. 
 I had no room to my exclusive use, and could only get 
 an opportunity for m}- nightly devotions, by sitting up till 
 my room-fellow was asleep ; and on Sunday it cost me 
 continued struggle to keep my thoughts away from the 
 world and its affairs, while sitting with the family, and 
 hearing unavoidably their conversation. I had been ac- 
 customed to regard the Sabbath, as the Puritans studious- 
 ly call it, as invested with an awful sanctity. I felt it to 
 be wicked to speak my own words or to think my own 
 thoughts, were they never so innocent on other da3's, 
 during the continuance of holj' time. I was doubtless 
 wrong in believing so strained an observance required, 
 and I remember I found it a relief to have the Sabbath 
 past. Such a struggle as I made to keep my thoughts 
 in the right direction, and my feelings in the right tone, 
 could not but be attended with ph3^sical weariness. I 
 remember this time with this satisfaction however, that if 
 I was in error I cannot but think I was in earnest. The 
 error was not in a dangerous direction, it was not on the 
 
20 MEMOIS, OF 
 
 side of laxity, and I doubtless gained in depth of religious 
 conviction and purpose by my efforts. 
 
 I entered atBowdoin College in Feb., 1816. I was ex- 
 amined for admission by Prof. Cleaveland in Arithmetic 
 and Algebra, and by Prof. John Abbot in the Latin and 
 Greek languages. The venerable President, Dr. Apple- 
 ton, was acquainted with my grandfather, and he hospita- 
 bly detained me at his own house my first night in Bruns- 
 wick. His grave kindness won my reverent love ; a love 
 which acquaintance deepened, and I now remember him 
 with the same feeling, changed only as age would naturally 
 change it, at the distance of thirty years. The class into 
 which I entered was the largest that had then been in 
 that college ; we were nineteen in all. I was among the 
 younger members of it. 
 
 Soon after I entered I was admitted to a "Praying 
 Society" consistingof about half a dozen students (Denny, 
 Johnson, Cheever, Pratt, Walker, Stanet.) We met on 
 Sunday morning, generally at the room which I shared 
 with a member of the Junior class, Ebenezer Cheever, 
 since a Presbj-terian minister. We had several praj-ers 
 and some religious conversation ; and as we made it our 
 duty each to say something to two of our fellow students 
 during the week on the duty of becoming religious, we 
 reported what we had done in this way. There was a 
 yevy serious tone of mind pervading these young men. 
 They were circumspect in their life, and acted under the 
 impression of a duty to be discharged toward their fellow 
 students. Their influence was salutary and marked. 
 'The members of this society were accustomed to hold a 
 sort of religious meeting at their different rooms in suc- 
 cession on Saturday evenings, and generally one or the 
 other would read and comment on some portion of Scrip- 
 ture, and two or three would make prayers. These meet- 
 
BENJAMIN BALE, D. D. 21 
 
 ings were attended by about fifteen or twenty generally, 
 as nearly as I recollect. 
 
 During my Junior year there was a revival in college. 
 It originated as I suppose, in some measure at least, in 
 the efTorts of this society, and several became converts. 
 Among them, two sons of a deceased Congregational 
 minister, one of whom is now the principal Secretary of 
 the A. B. C. F. Missions, Rev. Dr. Anderson. 
 
 In the summer of 1816, I made a "public profession 
 of religion," as we used to express it, by joining the 
 ' 'Congi'egational Church" under the care of Rev. James 
 Miltimore. My mother and my grandparents and other 
 relations were members of the same. At the time of my 
 admission, the congregation worshipped in the Court 
 House in Newburyport, their meeting-house having been 
 burned by lightning the April before. 
 
 This was a serious time with me. The receiving of the 
 Holy Communion was invested with awful sacredness by 
 the strict Puritans. To receive it unworthily was to ea'j 
 and drink damnation, and by "unworthily'' they under- 
 stood "in an unconverted state." It was deemed indis- 
 pensible that every one should try and examine himself 
 therefore before he received it ; and the examination was 
 to ascertain whether he were really regenerate. I well 
 remember the almost stunning anxiety which I felt on 
 such occasions. No one can avoid respecting the serious- 
 ness with which this duty and privilege was regarded, 
 though connected with an unpractical method of self- 
 examination. It often engendered undue and sometimes 
 fatal anxiety, and sometimes operated upon sensitive 
 minds to exclude them entirely from becoming partakers 
 of this sacrament. A female member of a family in our 
 neighborhood committed suicide, under, the apprehension 
 
22 MEMOIB OF 
 
 that in "joining the church" she had acted hypocritically 
 and committed a great sin. And my own father, though 
 religiously disposed, and I believe earnestly desirous to 
 do his duty, never dared to "make a profession" and be- 
 come thus a communicant. 
 
 I did not enjoy vigorous health in college, and near 
 the close of my Junior year, in August, 1817, I was so 
 much unwell, that I obtained leave of absence a week or 
 two before Commencement. The nerves of my eyes 
 were very much affected, and once while I was reading 
 in my study, I almost lost for a moment the power of 
 vision. That season was very cold, and I remember on 
 my waj' home in the stage, just at the end of August, 
 seeing the Indian corn only about a foot or a foot-and-a- 
 half high. I received my degree of Bachelor of Arts, 
 Sept. 2d, 1818. My part at Commencement was the Sa- 
 lutatory Oration. 
 
 It had been my intention to proceed directly from col- 
 lege to the stud3' of Divinity at the Theological Sendinary 
 at Andover, but during the summer, I was oflfered the 
 Academy at Saco, I had been a pupil and at school from 
 three years of age, and I thought it might be useful to 
 me to try my hand at being Master. I recollected also a 
 remark of Dr. Spring, that one who meant to be a min- 
 ister would do well to try his hand first at being a school- 
 master, and with the consent of my father, I became 
 preceptor of the Saco Academy. 
 
 I commenced my pedagogy on Monday, 7th of Septem- 
 ber, 1818. The number of the pupils in the academy was 
 limited to fifty. I commenced with nearly that number, 
 and soon had it in full. 
 
 I remained in the academy one year. Occasionally I 
 went to Portland and sometimes spent a Sunday. My 
 
BENJAMIN HALE, D.D. 23 
 
 uncle, at whose house I was a guest, E. Little Esq. was 
 a member of Dr. Pa3'son's Congregation and a member 
 of his church, and I sometimes attended Dr. Payson's 
 preaching with him and his family. I occasionally also 
 went to St. Paul's church, attracted more bj'-the beauty 
 and impressiveness of the church service than by the elo- 
 quence of Dr. Payson. To me even then the service of 
 the Church seemed to have more of worship in it, to be 
 more solemn, a more suitable oflfering from man to his 
 Maker, than that to which I had been accustomed. I 
 remember well how I marked the people, as they came 
 into church and kneeled in silent prayer, before they took 
 their seats. They seemed like worshippers. 
 
 1819. Before my year at Saco was closed, I lost my 
 mother. She died July 27th, 1819. I spent a week with 
 her a little before her death, but was not with her at the 
 closing scene. I was at her funeral. She died as she 
 had lived, in full reliance upon God's gracious promises. 
 She was faithful unto death in all her duties, faithful to 
 what she had learned of God's will and God's truth, and 
 I do not doubt that she found acceptance before Him. 
 It was a great loss to us all, to the younger members of 
 the family more especially ; I had come to man's es- 
 tate, and had received the benefit of her parental faith- 
 fulness and love through my whole minority — a benefit 
 for which I shall never cease to be grateful to Almighty 
 God. 
 
 Theologicai. Seminary, College Tutokship, and 
 Gardiner Lyceum. 
 
 In the autumn of 1819, I became a member of the 
 Theological Seminary at Andover. My college class- 
 mate Rufus Anderson, now the Rev. Dr. Anderson, was 
 
24 MEMOIR OF 
 
 my class-mate and room-mate.* I attended with respect- 
 able diligence to tlie studies of the year, the principal 
 of which were Hebrew and the exegesis of the New Testa- 
 ment, under Professor Stuart. I had leisure for reading 
 and I devoted a part of it to Ecclesiastical History. I 
 had little to guide me in it. Church History was not 
 made much of in the course of study. It was not talked 
 about. It was hardly regarded as a matter of moment. 
 •We had not an historical Keligion, we could not have an 
 historical Theology. Our denomination and its creed 
 were new. It could not be otherwise than that the history 
 of the Church should be regarded as a record of errors, 
 rather than the progress of truth and piety. Our posi- 
 tion could only be maintained and defended by our own 
 exegetical divinity. 
 
 The popular Church History, Milner's, came most 
 readily and temptingly to hand, and I read it. Of course 
 I acquired no very profound ideas of the Church or of its 
 history under such a guidance, but I saw that the Church, 
 which was planted b}' Christ and his Apostles, was not 
 organized like that in which I had had m}' training. It ap- 
 peared upon the very face of the history that it had its 
 
 * The venerable Dr. Anderson writes,— "We both entered the Seminary 
 at Andover in 1819, "where we were room-mates during his continuance 
 there. Our friendship was founded in mutual knowledge and esteem, and 
 continued daring his life. * * * There was something peculiarly pleas- 
 ant in his responses. They are associated, in my remembrance, with a 
 sweet smile. I cannot recall an unpleasant incident in all our college and 
 seminaiy life. OChe operations of his mind as a scholar were effective, 
 equally so in noai'ly every branch of learning. He was quick and nccur.ito 
 in the mathematics, in the languages, and in music. I know not in what 
 branch he was best fitted to excel. Wliile perfect in all his recitations, he 
 never seemed to me what is called a hard student, lie was social, always 
 ready for conversation when I desired it. * * * He had, and through 
 his whole life retained, my entire cov.lidence as a man of God, nor was I 
 surprised at the eminent position he aiterwards attained in the Church of 
 Christ. Pleasant is his memory, and pleasant is the thought of meeting 
 him in a better world." 
 
BENJAMIN BALE, D. D. 25 
 
 Bishops, true Diocesan Bishops, with Priests and Deacons 
 under them. This conviction was not a very active one. 
 It did not come to me as one which must govern my own 
 Ecclesiastical position. I had grown up with the feelings, 
 common to New Englanders of that period, that the form 
 of Church Government, was only an outward matter, not 
 binding upon the conscience or a thing of any moment. 
 Still, as a matter of fact, I was convinced of the Aposto- 
 licity of Episcopacy, and this, added to the affection I 
 had for the Church Service, and my preference for it as a 
 matter of taste and propriety, was a step toward my pres- 
 ent position. 
 
 1820. At the Commencement in Bowdoin College, 
 September 1820, 1 was appointed by the Trustees tutor 
 of Natural Philosophy etc. and left the Seminary at An- 
 dover, some weeks before the completion of the j-ear. I 
 remained at Bowdoin College as a tutor two years,* 
 teaching the Junior Class in Natural Philosophy and 
 Locke's Essay on the Human Understanding, and the 
 Sophomore class in Geometry and some other parts of 
 Mathematics, and Logic. There I pursued my Theologi- 
 cal studies without a teacher, guided somewhat by an 
 outline of Theological subjects and questions, with refer- 
 ences to books, which had been prepared by Dr. Woods 
 
 * Of this period of liis life, his fellow tutor, now the venerable Professor 
 A. S. Packard, writes, — *'I was in a tutorship at the same time, and we 
 were thus brought into the closest relations. We were constantly together 
 In our walks, in our social life, and maintained a free and unrestrained 
 intercourse In regard to our studies, our prospects and schemes of life. 
 Mr. H. gave at once the impression of a kindi generous, faithful heart, a 
 clear, acute and rapid intellect, and a vigorous grasp of any subject to 
 which he gave his thought. He was a diligent student. He loved books. 
 Without conceit he had snficient self-reliance, which always was of service 
 to him as a teacher and governor. He always had the good will of his pu- 
 pils, and whether with them or with his colleagues exerted an influence 
 above rather than below his ane and standing. He was a true man, un- 
 8cUlsh,ot a decidedly social tui'u, of warm affections, witha genial humour." 
 
26 MEMOIR OF 
 
 of Andover. I followed my inclination and a secret pre- 
 ference which I felt, in studying somewhat the question 
 of Episcopacy, though I had no books of a recent date, 
 or published in the course of any recent controversj'. I 
 read Stillingfleet's Irenicum, because I had it. I read 
 Chauncy against Episcopacy, Campbell's Lectures as they 
 touched that point, and perhaps other things ; and the 
 impression grew that Episcopacy was the original Church 
 government. It was admitted to have been introduced 
 very early, for that could not be denied ; and the theories 
 of Campbell and others of its opposers to account for 
 this fact, seemed to me to be so clearly invented to serve 
 a purpose and so completely unsustained hy fact, that 
 they confirmed me in my conclusion, by showing me the 
 utter weakness of the other side. 
 
 I was not however a Churchman, nor had I begun to 
 understand the Church as God's organization for the sal- 
 vation of the world, the pillar and ground of the truth, 
 the embodiment of the Gospel ; that in it was union with 
 the living Head, in it were the promises ; that from its 
 nature it could be but one, and must endure through all 
 time, or God's promise would fail and his purposes 
 be defeated. The "churches" I was acquainted with 
 were springing up every day; formed voluntarily like 
 any other voluntary society, by the mutual covenanting 
 of the members. Their creeds or confessions they agreed 
 upon by vote. These churches embodied all the piety 
 and the zeal with which I was acquainted. I knew no 
 Episcopal clergyman except by sight, and no Episcopalian 
 layman who would be likely to suggest, if he possessed, 
 any diflS'erent ideas of the Church from those which I in- 
 haled from the air of my native land. There were 
 "churches" of difierent names around us. But they were 
 all "sects," to which people attached themselves accord- 
 
BENJAMIN HALE, D. D. 27 
 
 ing to their tastes or their convictions. If their differences 
 touched upon "vital points," men were bound in joining 
 them to follow their convictions. If upon points not vi- 
 tal, they were at liberty to follow their preferences, or 
 rather were bound to govern themselves by such exterior 
 considerations as the probability of usefulness. 
 
 In this state of mind, my friends all being Congrega- 
 tionalists, it seemed to me that whatever my preferences 
 might be, I should be more useful in the Congregational 
 Church, for Episcopalians were extremely few. I offered 
 myself in the last of January, 1822 to the Association of 
 Congregational ministers in the county of York (Maine) 
 for a license to preach. They met at Saco, where I was 
 passing a part of the college vacation. I was examined, 
 and received a license, in the usual form, to preach for 
 two years. I preached twice the next Sunday, February 
 3d, in the meeting-house at Saco, and performed most 
 of the Service. The Rev. Jonathan Cogswell, now 
 D. D., was the minister. 
 
 I recollect as if it were but yesterday many of my 
 feelings on that occasion. The services in Congrega- 
 tional meeting-houses, consisted of a short opening pray- 
 er, a hymn, the long prayer, another hymn, then the 
 sermon, a short prayer and the benediction. Sometimes 
 a chapter or part of a chapter was read before the long 
 prayer, and in the afternoon a hymn followed the sermon. 
 Mj- temperament was nervous, my articulation was rapid, 
 and my method of saying what I had to say direct. 
 The long prayer according to the usual custom should 
 be about fifteen minutes in length. A fresh hand, not 
 accustomed to the circumlocution and the practice of 
 "enlarging," which aided in filling up the allotted time 
 where new topics and new matter did not crowd upon the 
 mind ; and timid withal in adventuring to appear as the 
 
28 MEMOm OF 
 
 extempore organ in presenting the devotions of the 
 congregatioa before God ; I felt embarrassed in the long 
 prayer. I felt that I was in danger of stinting it. I 
 feared, that in making short work of it, I might offend 
 the seriousness of some of my good friends in the con- 
 gregation. I labored for topics and for periphrastic 
 expressions that I might reach the proper length of the 
 exercise ; and then I felt that such regard to what hear- 
 ers might think, was out of place, that I was working 
 out an exercise and not praying ; and I finished the pray- 
 er and sat down humbled and ashamed. I have often 
 thought of it, and have wanted no other proof than my 
 own experience on this and other occasions, that simple 
 as this method of worship is in appearance, it is not fav- 
 orable to simplicity of heart before God. 
 
 After my return to Brunswick, I preached in the meet- 
 ing-house in that village, and in the neighboring towns 
 of Bath, Wiscassett, Freeport, etc., upon the invitation 
 of the ministers of those places. During the following 
 summer I preached pretty constantly half the day, — 
 President Allen, D.D. of Bowdoin College, preaching 
 the other half — ^in the meeting-house at Brunswick, 
 which had no regular minister. I find upon looking at 
 my memoranda, that I preached about fortj' times with- 
 in a year of my receiving a license, and that nine times 
 I preached in two Episcopal Churches, at Christ Church, 
 Gardiner, and St. Paul's Portland. This fact shews that 
 churchmanship among the clergy of Maine (these were 
 the only churches in that State) was not of a verj' rigor- 
 ous character. 
 
 I might have mentioned before, that at the Commence- 
 ment at Bowdoin College Sept., 1821, 1 delivered a Latin 
 Valedictory Oration and took my Master's degree. 
 
 In the summer of 1822, I received proposals from 
 
BENJAMIN BALE, D. D. 29 
 
 R. H. Gardiner, Esq., of Gardiner, to take charge of a 
 new Institution, which he had determined to estabhsh, 
 for the education of farmers and mechanics in the prin- 
 ciples of Science. A salary of one thousand dollars was 
 offered me, and I determined to accept it. I closed my 
 connection with the College at Commencement, 1822, 
 and during the autumn went to Gardiner, and for about 
 three months resided in the family of Mr. Gardiner. I 
 there commenced my regular attendance at church. I 
 was received at the Communion without any reference to 
 Confirmation. I preached occasionally ; and if I do not 
 mistake, read the service — officiating, as the Clergyman 
 of the parish was accustomed to do, in gown and bands. 
 He did not use the surplice. Nor do I recollect ever to 
 have heard him read the Ante-Communion Service, on 
 other than Communion Sundays. I saw no irregularity 
 in these things, for I was but little instructed in the ways 
 of the Church ; and it will be admitted, that from the 
 Hector, under whose ministrations I had placed myself, 
 I was not likely to learn much. He was a most amiable 
 man, an eloquent preacher, and a beautiful reader of the 
 Service. A convert during a time of a "revival" and 
 ordained without a thorough education, he commenced 
 his ministry with more zeal than knowledge, and with 
 evangelical "views" instead of skfll in divinity. 
 
 On the first day of January, 1823, I opened the Ly- 
 ceum, was inaugurated as its Principal, and delivered 
 an address on the occasion, which was published by the 
 students, I think. I commenced with a single class, and 
 that not large, so that I needed no assistant. At this 
 time I left Mr. Gardiner's family to live near the lyceum. 
 A more lovelj' family I have never known. Wealth was 
 adorned with pietj', charity with simplicity, high culti- 
 vation with meekness and gentleness. I was treated as 
 
30 MEMOm OF 
 
 a son and brother, and I look back, after a lapse of a 
 quarter of a centurj', with a lively afi'ection for each and 
 every member of the household. 
 
 Having become settled, my nest step was to be mar- 
 ried. I had been engaged to Mary Caroline King, from 
 the time I had left the Saco Academy in 1819, and we 
 were joined together on the 9th day of April, 1823, at 
 her mother's in Saco. She was the eldest daughter of 
 Hon. Cyrus King, M.C., who died in 1817. 
 
 The Lyceum soon attracted students, and became a 
 flourishing Institution. Other instructors were added, 
 among them Ezekiel Holmes, M.D. who was professor 
 of Natural History, etc., and Mr. Ebenezer F. Dean, 
 tutor. I gave lectures in Chemistry, and taught Mathe- 
 matics and Natural Philosophy. In winter we had extra 
 classes in Architecture, in Agricultural Chemistiy, etc. 
 For the former of these classes I prepared, in 1827, a 
 book, "The Elementary Principles of Carpentry." 
 
 Soon after I had commenced my duties in the Lyceum, 
 I sent back my "license" to the Moderator of the York 
 Co. Association. I was prompted so to do at that time, 
 hy the invitations to preach which came to me from 
 neighboring places, and which it was not convenient for 
 me to meet. I had also become so settled in my prefer- 
 ence for the Church, that I had determined to take Or- 
 ders, should I ever be so situated as to think it my 
 duty to preach again. 
 
 During this winter, January or February, 1823, I 
 took a severe cold, which aflfected my eyes and was at- 
 tended with extreme sensitiveness to the light. I was 
 obliged to have my room as dark as it could be made. 
 One Sunday morning while in this condition I sat listen- 
 ing to the church bell as it tolled for service, and as it 
 stopped I commenced the service, repeating to myself 
 
BENJAMIN HALE, D. D. 31 
 
 one of the sentences, — then the exhortation, — then the 
 confession, — etc., till I had gone through a considerable 
 part of the Service ; enjoying it, as if I had been a wor- 
 shipper in the congregation, and feeling that I was 
 mingling my confessions and prayers and praises with 
 those which were ascending from the worshippers in 
 church. I saw and felt deeply the advantage of such 
 a form of service, and was confirmed in my attachment 
 to the Church and the Church's ways, so far as I knew 
 them. 
 
 Professoeship at Hanovee, N. H. 
 
 I continued in charge of the Lyceum till July, 1827. 
 When having received an invitation to become Professor 
 of Chemistry at Dartmouth College, a position which 
 offered me more emolument, with very much less labor 
 than I had at Gardiner, I resolved to accept it. My 
 health had suffered, and though I could not leave the 
 scene of labors which had been so interesting to me, 
 and friends who had endeared themselves to me by 
 many kindnesses, without many regrets, I thought it my 
 duty as well as my interest to go. After closing my af- 
 fairs at Gardiner, and leaving my wife and child at Saco 
 to spend the autumn, I proceeded to Hanover ; where I 
 gave my Inaugural address as Professor of Chemistry, 
 on the day following the Commencement, August, 1827. 
 
 The Medical Lectures commenced about a fortnight 
 after Commencement. My colleagues were Reuben D. 
 Mussey, M. D., Prof, of Anatomy, Surgery, etc., and 
 Daniel Oliver, M. D., Prof, of the Theory and Practice of 
 Medicine. I was Professor of Chemistry, Pharmacy, etc. 
 
 The lectures closed early in December, when I rejoined 
 my familj'. I remained at Saco for a month or more. 
 The rest of the winter we spent at my father's in New- 
 
32 MEMOIR OF 
 
 buiyport; and in the early spring I went to Hanover, 
 and soon after commenced housekeeping. 
 
 At Hanover, I found myself so much at leisure, that 
 I thought it my duty to resume my purpose of preaching ; 
 and I obtained ordination from the Rt. Rev. Bishop Gris- 
 wold of the Eastern Diocese, Sept. 28, 1828, at Wood- 
 stock, Vermont. 
 
 I preached occasionally at Woodstock, at Windsor etc., 
 and not unfrequently in Congregational meeting-houses ; 
 as that on "the Plain" at Hanover, the East Meeting- 
 House, Lyme, Canaan, Newbury, Vt. etc., using the Ser- 
 vice always, and wearing the gown. 
 
 It was about Easter, 1830, that I commenced an eve- 
 ning Service at my house. At first no one was present 
 beside my own family with part of Dr. Oliver's, and Hor- 
 ace Brooks, then my pupil in Mathematics, now of the 
 U. S. A. It soon began to be spoken of, and individuals 
 ■asked permission to attend, and in the course of a few 
 months my room was weH filled. I continued these ser- 
 vices with few interruptions during my staj' at Hanover — 
 and very pleasant they were. My little congregation of 
 five and twenty or thirty, consisting for the most part of 
 those who had never seen before the Liturgical Service, 
 became deeply engaged. Ali knelt at the devotions, all 
 responded, and it was truly a common prayer, a united 
 offering, to one common Father. The feelings of many 
 were touched, and their hearts opened. In my sermons 
 I never touched upon points of controversy. I scarcely 
 preached one which I might not have preached without 
 offence in the Congregational meeting-house. In fact my 
 own views were, upon the doctrines of the Church, only 
 beginning to form. 
 
 I had been convinced of Episcopacy as a fact in the 
 divine economy of the Cliurch, and I embraced it. I 
 
BENJAMIN HALE, D. D. 33 
 
 was persuaded of the propriety and greater suitableness 
 of the Liturgical service, and I adhered to it. I was a 
 lover of order, and was strict in adhering to it. 
 
 All this time I was a regular attendant at the Con- 
 gregational meeting-house. It was the only place of pub- 
 lic worship in the village. I had my pew, and was regu- 
 larly in my place both forenoon and afternoon. In the 
 evening I had my own service. 
 
 Thus far the letters to his children. While, happily, 
 there is no lack of material for illustrating the succeeding 
 periods of Dr. Hale's Professional life, the reader will 
 doubtless share our regret that his facile pen was inter- 
 rupted in the narrative of a life which he only could de- 
 scribe with comprehensive unity. 
 
 It should be noted that at the time Prof. Hale assum- 
 ed the Chair of Chemistry, * Physical studies were re- 
 ceived in Dartmouth very much as in other American 
 colleges thirty or fifty years before. The College had 
 not taken a Scientific Periodical in half a century. There 
 was no Cabinet of Minerals. "There was not," writes 
 Dr. Oliver, "a single modern volume in the College Libra- 
 ry upon either Mineralogy or Geology ; and scarcely one, 
 if one, upon Chemistry later than the days of Fourcroy or 
 Vauquelin. The prevailing taste was decidedly anti- 
 physical. It was directed another way, and not only so 
 but there was among the College Faculty a disposition 
 to undervalue the Physical Sciences." Dr. James F. 
 Dana, the predecessor of Prof. Hale, writing of the Col- 
 lege in reference to Physical Science, used this striking 
 
 * It Is proper here to note that portions of this Memoir were collated 
 for, and uaed by, the Historian of Dartmouth College, in an article on 
 Prof. Hale among the Biographical notices of the volume entitled "The 
 History of Dartmouth College," by Baxter P. Smith. 
 
34 MEMOIB OF 
 
 illustration, "It was anchored in the stream and served 
 onlj' to show its velocity." When Prof. Hale was engag- 
 ed, his duties comprised a course of daily Lectures to 
 the Medical Class through the Lecture Term of fourteen 
 or fifteen weeks, to which Lectures the members of the 
 Senior and Junior Clnsses were to be admitted for a 
 small foe ; and instruction to the Junior Class in some 
 Chemical text-book, by daily recitations for five or six 
 weeks. This luas all. 
 
 Prof. Hale, however, addressed himself to his work 
 with characteristic activity and zeal. He, voluntarily, 
 each year, without increase of compensation, gave to the 
 College classes a separate course of over thirtj' Lectures 
 in Chemistry, and discharged the expenses of them him- 
 self. * He substituted a larger and more scientific text- 
 book for that in use ; and obtained an allowance of forty 
 or more recitations instead of thirtj'. He laid the foun- 
 dation of the Cabinet of Minerals by giving five-hundred 
 specimens, classifying and labelling (with some assist- 
 ance) all additions, leaving the collection in respectable 
 condition with twenty-three hundred specimens. He also 
 gave annually about twenty Lectures in Geology .and 
 Mineralogy, hoping to excite an interest in those sub- 
 jects ; and for some years was the instructor of the Sen- 
 ior Class in the Philosophy of Natural History. For two 
 years also he took charge of the recitations in Hebrew, 
 and also took part in other recitations. All of the above 
 services were voluntary and gratuitous. It is no wonder 
 that students thus cared for should respond as they did 
 with enthusiasm and regard. Happily, in this depart- 
 
 ♦ VTilting of Mr. A. A. Hayea, Ms "capital assistant" during the autumn 
 of 1827, Prof. Hale says "he is a most excellent Chemist, one who has 
 pursued the science from a pure lore of it, and I question whether there Is 
 60 good a practical Chemist in New England." Mr. Hayes was after- 
 wards for many years Assayer to the State of Masaachusetta. 
 
BENJAMIN BALE, D.D. 35 
 
 ment as ■well as in all others, Dartmouth College is 
 now in motion, and with the foremost in the current of 
 Physical studies. 
 
 Professor Hale's architectural genius and constructive 
 ability were also brought into active exercise during the 
 whole process of repairing the old College buildings, and 
 erecting new. Of this he writes, December 11, 1827, "I 
 have made out a plan for the repair of the college build- 
 ing, and the addition of a building for libraries, etc. , for 
 the use of the Trustees at their next session. Again, 
 March 20, 1828, "I have the honor of being one-half of 
 the building committee. Professor Chamberlain being the 
 other moiety, and we are commencing operations. The 
 prospects of the College are now so bright that the plan I 
 at first proposed, and which was adopted by the Trustees, 
 is abandoned, and we are preparing to erect two brick 
 buildings, three stories in height and fifty feet by seventj-. 
 One for students' rooms, and the other for public rooms." 
 
 During his last three years Professor Hale was Presi- 
 dent of the Phi Beta Kappa Societj'. His portrait, pre- 
 sented by the members of that Society, now hangs in the 
 College Library. 
 
 Professor Hale's closing .experiences at Dartmouth 
 were not pleasant. We have seen that he was ordained 
 Deacon in the Protestant Episcopal Church, bj' Bishop 
 Griswold, September 28, 1828, at Woodstock, Vt. He 
 was by the same Bishop ordained Priest, in St. Paul's 
 Church Newburyport, January 6, 1831. He also, as has 
 been said, after scrupulously observing the appointments 
 of the village meeting-house on Sunday, held an evening 
 sei-vice in his own parlor, for his family and such com- 
 municants and friends as desired to attend. In pursuing 
 this course he in no sense violated the Charter of the 
 College, he undertook nothing in conflict with the duties 
 
36 MEMOm OF 
 
 of his Professorship, he made no effort at proselytism, 
 he acted neither obtrusively nor illiberally. These ser- 
 vices became very attractive. Several young men, some 
 of them of the highest promise for talent and piety, were 
 made acquainted with the Church, and were led by th& 
 persuasion of the Liturgy, not by his, to examine and 
 confess its claims. Others, sons of Episcopal parents,, 
 were established in their attachment to the Church of 
 their fathers, and were preserved in all probability from 
 straying from its fold. 
 
 His growing influence occasioned much secret uneasi- 
 ness among the clergy of that denomination which had 
 up to that time held exclusive possession of the ground. 
 And at the annual meeting of the Trustees at the close 
 of July, 1835, without warning to him, or conference 
 with the Faculty of the College, the Trustees relieved 
 themselves, after a fashion, of their anxiety and its 
 source, by cutting away the Professorship of Chemistry 
 in the Medical School, and transferring its duties to a 
 College Professor under the plea of greater economy. 
 The true animus of this proceeding was distinctly recog- 
 nized and resented by the public. At the request of his 
 colleagues, Dr. Mussey and Dr. Oliver, Professor Hale 
 delivered the full course of Lectures following, and at the 
 close published, October 27, his "Valedictory letter to 
 the Trustees." This "letter" came to Hanover just as 
 the middle term closed (the Board of Trustees being in 
 session) and was eagerly sought after. The Students, 
 the first edition being exhausted, had a second printed 
 at their own expense. The development was attended 
 with great excitement. The papers were full of it ; and 
 the letter was printed in full in several papers. The 
 Trustees replied in a pamphlet signed "Alumnus," pub- 
 lished in November. "Alumnus" was brought to grief 
 
BENJAMIN HALE, D. D. 37 
 
 by Professor Daniel Oliver, in a rejoinder over the 
 name of "Investigator." 
 
 Dr. A. B. Crosby, Professor of Surgery in Dartmouth 
 College, in a "Contribution to the Medical History of 
 New Hampshire," read before the New Hampshire Medi- 
 cal Societj', June, 1,870, states the case and states it 
 correctly : ''I cannot forbear to recall for an instant the 
 name of Professor Hale, who, after serving the College in 
 the chair of Chemistry for a few years, lost his connec- 
 tion with the institution in a manner by no means credit- 
 able to the Trustees. Professor Hale was an Episcopa- 
 lian, and was wont to hold the service of the (Episcopiil) 
 Church at his own house, for the benefit of whoever 
 might choose to come. This course was obnoxious to 
 the College fathers, who were at the time strongly sec- 
 tarian. The board determined on his removal, but as it 
 was found that it could not he legally accomplished under 
 the college charter, the Alexandrian method of treating 
 this heretical knot was adopted. A vote was passed 
 abolishing the Professorship of Chemistry. — I should 
 hesitate to recall an event so discreditable to the past 
 history of the college, were it not that in these latter 
 days more liberal counsels have prevailed, and the ut- 
 most latitude of opinion, as is consistent with the true 
 spirit and intent of a University, has come to be toler- 
 ated and encouraged. Whatever may have been the 
 derelictions of Dartmouth in the past, I am proud to say 
 that her spirit is liberal and catholic now." 
 
 In the same year, 1835, Prof. Hale also published an 
 admirable little work entitled "Scriptural Illustrations of 
 the Liturgy," now on the list of the publications of the 
 Church Book Society. In August he attended the Gen- 
 eral Convention of the Protestant Episcopal Church as a 
 Delegate from the Diocese of New Hampshii-e. In Oc- 
 
38 MEMOIB OF 
 
 tober the degree of D. D. was conferred upon him by 
 Columbia College. In December, having had a severe 
 attack of bronchitis, he spent the winter in St. Croix, 
 (Santa Cruz) , where in the agreeable and timely change 
 furnished by its salubrious climate and novel scenes, he 
 regained his usual health and elasticity. His letters, over 
 the signiture of "Valetudinarius," were very pleasant to 
 his friends and the reading public. 
 
 In the next year Professor Hale entered upon the high 
 and laborious duties of an office, which required all his 
 great skill and acumen during the active j'ears remaining 
 of his industrious life. He was elected August 2, 1836 
 to the Presidency of Geneva College, Ontario County, 
 New York ; and, having accepted, entered upon his 
 duties in the following October. The limits of this Me- 
 moir will not permit us to enter upon a detailed history 
 of that college, now called Hobart after the distinguished 
 Bishop under whose auspices it was founded. That his- 
 tory will in due time we trust receive merited attention 
 from some more competent pen. Nor dare we venture 
 to describe minutelj', though we have abundant mate- 
 rial, the varied and interesting details of Dr. Hale's 
 Presidential life. The History of Geneva College for 
 nearly twenty-two j'ears was intimately interwoven with 
 the labour and thought, the trials, hopes and prayers, of 
 its President. 
 
 "His Presidency," wrote John H. Swift, August 29, 
 1864, "embraced a most critical period in the history of 
 that College. There were circumstances connected with 
 its management in earlier years that long weighed like 
 an incubus upon it, so that it was, in fact, a question of 
 life or death with it, when he assumed the helm. Life 
 was already nearly extinct, and death would soon have 
 followed, had not the President given himself wholly to 
 
BENJAMIN HALE, D. D. 39 
 
 the work, with a faith that never faltered, a perseverance 
 which strengthened with difficulties, and a thorough con- 
 viction that his work — if well done — would promote the 
 glory of God and of His Church through all time. This 
 is the secret of his being able to labor so patiently some 
 twenty years or more, always surrounded with difficulties, 
 and ever overcoming some obstacle to be followed by 
 another. To appreciate Dr. Hale's administration we 
 should know the early history of the College, its mis- 
 management and the 'sharp practice' ^ich for long years 
 blighted its prosperitJ^ Verily he had a most difficult 
 work. He did it nobly. He saved the College, and God 
 has taken him to meet his reward. 
 
 "In what I have written I have not been unmindful of 
 the invaluable support ever given to Dr. Hale b}^ the ven- 
 erable Bishop of the Diocese (De Lancej-) . The Presi- 
 dent fully appreciated its value, and without it very likely 
 he might have given up in despair." 
 
 "It was an excellent thing for our College" writes 
 Joseph M. Clark, D. D., in his address on the life and 
 character of Dr. Hale, July 10, 1866, "that it was able 
 in 1836 to secure the services of Dr. Hale as its third 
 President; Dr. Adams having been the first, 1826-28, 
 and Dr. Mason the second, 1830-35. 
 
 "The College had averaged during the ten years of its 
 existence four graduates a year. This may give an idea 
 of its income from students. And up to the beginning 
 of 1836, all the endowment I can find trace of, bestowed 
 upon the College, exclusive of buildings and ground, 
 yielded only about $ 1,500 a year. About as much was 
 given from Church sources in 1836, and two years after 
 the State granted this College, among others, $ 6,000 a 
 year. The State grant, however, ceased on the adoption 
 of the new State Constitution in 1846, and the College 
 
40 MEMOIB OF 
 
 was reduced to depend upon its Church endowment. Dr. 
 Hale's single salary, nominally 61,500 if regularly paid 
 would have nearly (if not quite) exhausted the indepen- 
 dent income of the College. Yet in 1836, Professors 
 Prentice and Irving were elected to their respective 
 chairs. Professor Horace Webster had served in the 
 College from its foundation ; and the services of at least 
 one Tutor were necessary for the work to be carried on. 
 "While I knew Dr. Hale his salary was always in arrears.* 
 I think he voluntai^ly accepted less than its fuJl amount. 
 His brothers nobly stood by him and helped him to 
 live. When there was money in the Treasury he would 
 
 * The particulars are stated In Dr. Hale's Journal, under date of May 
 20, 1858. "Sent to my trother M. L. H. a draft for $ 3,000 whloli I reeelTCd 
 from the College Treasurer. This amount was due me from the College 
 arising from arrears of salary during the dark ages of the College. The 
 salary on which I came to G. was $ 1,500 (in 1836). In 1847, August, the 
 College, having lost the State stipend of $ 6,000 found its income from its 
 own resources, all it had left, reduced to less than $ 3,000 (about $ 1,400 as 
 reported by the Treasurer if I rightly remember) . It became then neces- 
 sary to reduce the expenditures ... I consented to receive $ 1,000, 
 Professor Webster S 800, the Tutors were to have $ 400 each. This made 
 more than the income, but we thought we could rely on being able to pro- 
 vide for the balance. My salary remained at $ 1,000 till January '54, when 
 it was increased to $1,200; the Professors' salaries being also increased. 
 My salary of $ 1,000 was not paid regularly, especially from '47 to '51, my 
 receipts each year from the College being not much, if any, over half that 
 amount . . . My brother J. L. H. kindly allowed me to draw on him, 
 as I had need, so that I was enabled to forego my own claims on the College 
 Treasurer for the beneflt of the others who were not so favorably situated. 
 In this way grew up the Indebtedness of the College to me, which is now 
 happily settled. . . . The reduction of my salary in 1847 was a 
 temporary matter, arising from the necessities of the case. As soon as 
 the College had means to pay my original salary of $ 1,500, I might have 
 claimed it. I did not wish, however, to demand a full salary, while my 
 colleagues were working on with reduced ones, and I did not there- 
 fore assert my claim. Nor do I now make any claim for arrearages on 
 account of this reduction. I have remitted to the College on account of sal- 
 ary in this way, from Aug., 1S47 toJan.,18o4,$500ayear; from .Tan., 1854 to 
 Jan., 1858, $ 300 a year : Total $ 4,400. Let this go for the beneflt of the Col- 
 lege, for which I have most willingly laboured,— never more willingly than 
 when the work was hardest and the pay smallest." 
 
BENJAMIN HALE, D. D. 41 
 
 direct it to be paid to such members of the Faculty as had 
 fewer outside resources than himself. All the Geneva 
 Faculty lived lives of great self-sacrifice then, as in more 
 recent days, but I think Dr. Hale was pre-eminent in 
 this respect. After the withdrawal of the State grant in 
 1846 brought the College to its lowest 'nadir' of depres- 
 sion, the connection with it of every other member of the 
 old Faculty was severed, until in 1848, the President 
 alone remained. With two young graduates as Tutors, 
 (Mc Donald and myself) he took the burden of the whole 
 instruction of the College (each teacher hearing four 
 recitations a day), until Major Douglass arrived from Que- 
 bec, whence he had been invited to share the heavy re- 
 sponsibility, as Professor of Mathematics. 
 
 "It seems to me that Dr. Hale must have felt in those 
 dark days, somewhat like the Prophet Elijah in the His- 
 tory — 'They have broken Thy covenant, and slain Thy 
 Prophets, and I, even I only, am left, and they seek my 
 life.' Yet I happen to know that in the , depth of those 
 trying times, he refused an invitation to become an Offi- 
 cer of an Insurance Company, at a salary which would 
 have placed him at once in luxury. He knew that he 
 must stand to the helm, or the ship was lost. * The 
 Churchmen of Western New York did not rally to the 
 support of their College in those days even as well as 
 thej' have done since, and Dr. Hale's efforts were mainly 
 with Church authorities in New York City, and with the 
 Legislators at Albany. He had great difficulty in secur- 
 ing the payment of the last six months of the State ap- 
 
 * Dr. Hale writes, Feb. 4, 1850, "I can hardly express to you, my dear 
 brothers, my obUgation for all your kindness. May God reward you. I 
 should not remain in a position in which I am obliged to be so much In- 
 debted to you, if I did not feel constrained by a sense of duty to save if I 
 can this College, and to make it what it ought to be. I trust we arc ap- 
 proaching the shore." 
 
42 MEMOIR OF 
 
 propriation, which he urged as an implied promise on the 
 part of the State, the Colleges having made their plans 
 of yearly expenditures relying on the appropriation which 
 was sought to be so suddenly withdrawn. It was as near a 
 resemblance as I know of, in our times, to St. Paul's 'fight- 
 ing with beasts at Ephesus', to have a scholar and a gentle 
 man like Dr. Hale obliged to become a member of the 
 Lobby at Albany ; compelled to plead the cause of the 
 higher education with a body of men, containing indeed 
 once in a while a statesman or a scholar, but for the most 
 part, then as now, ignorant of everything but party poli- 
 tics or local interests, profoundly indifferent to everything 
 that rose above the level of those considerations, and of- 
 ten prejudiced against Colleges as aristocratic, and against 
 an Episcopal College in particular, as belonging to 'the 
 sect everywhere spoken against.' 
 
 "At last the venerable corporation of Trinitj' Church, 
 New York came to the relief of the President and the 
 College, and granted an annuity to sustain the Institu- 
 tion, until the wealth and liberality of the Churchmen of 
 the western part of the State should provide, as they have 
 in some measure and will I trust yet more, for its finan- 
 cial independence, the comfortable support of its oflScers, 
 and its increased attractiveness and means of usefulness. 
 Without the help of New York City the College could 
 not have existed ; and I question whether, among all the 
 sums which New York City and especially Trinity Church 
 have given to help the missionary work of Western New 
 York, any amounts have been more wisely or usefully 
 bestowed than those which have been given to maintain 
 and build up Hobart College. * * * 
 
 "When the division into Eastern and Western Dioceses 
 was first voted on in 1838, Dr. Hale published a pamph- 
 let advocating the measure, although it had an obvious 
 
BENJAMIN HALE. D. D. 4g 
 
 tendency to separate the College from the body of its 
 ■wealthiest supporters in the city of New York. And he 
 •was rewarded by the able and zealous co-operation of 
 Bishop De Lancey in all efforts for the benefit of the Col- 
 lege, from Bishop De Lancey's consecration in 1839 un- 
 til his death. A College -which is heir to the labours and 
 the prayers of a Hobart, a De Lancey, and a Hale, how 
 can it help but live to benefit and bless mankind? * * * 
 * * * "If Dr. Hale was mild he was firm also. He nev- 
 er compromised a principle in his mildness. And he 
 had in practical matters that Yankee tenacity, that Anglo- 
 Saxon staunchness that never knows that it is beaten ; 
 that will not accept defeat ; that does not even say 'vic- 
 tory or death', but victory only, victory ever, 'first, last, 
 and all the time', the valor that hangs on gi'imly to a 
 gloomy cause, waiting for a chance to turn the tide ; the 
 pluck and spirit that gained Grant's battles, and won 
 Wellington Waterloo ; the indomitable energy and per- 
 severance that have forced the Nile to render up its se- 
 crets, and plucked out the mysteries of the frozen Pole ; 
 that are subjecting nature in its subtlest phenomena, and 
 mind in its most recondite operations, more and more 
 to the understanding of man ; that spirit, I say, the in- 
 heritance of the Saxon, whether he be fighter, thinker, 
 scholar, priest, artist, or savant ; — that spirit all the 
 great men of the Church have had, Seabury, Hobart, 
 Ravenscroft, Chase, Otey, De Lancey (I mention not 
 the living) ; and that spirit to the full was the birthright 
 of Dr. Hale. * He took our College when it was a puny 
 
 * Under date of Feb. 10, 1843, Dr. Hale thus writes of the union of 
 Christian principle with charity. "There has been in Religion as well as 
 In politics a letting-down from the Ugh standard of fixed and settled prin- 
 ciples, to measures of temporary expediency. Men of sturdy principle 
 and high moral energy see it and resist it. They are of different parties 
 and sects, and they do not know each other, but they will do so, and the 
 
'44 MEMOIR OF 
 
 sapling scarce able to stand against the blast ; he stood 
 by it when the defences that had so far protected it were 
 rudely torn away; he nurtured it, till it began to 
 shoot out its branches afar, and bear rejoicing foli- 
 age on its head ; and when it shall have become the stur- 
 dy oak of a century's growth, when hundreds shall be 
 nursed beneath its shade, and thousands each year shall 
 return to its side ; then, in its greatness, let it never for- 
 get the guardian and friend of its youth, let all the Alum- 
 ni of Hobart cherish the memory of President Hale." 
 
 Further words are not needed to show that Doctor 
 Hale freely gave to his work at Geneva the wealth of 
 bis well stored mind, his tried experience, and his cheer- 
 ful, patient resolution. The trials of his position were 
 peculiar, the laborers few, the support scantj- ; and as 
 has been shown there were times when it seemed as if 
 the One man only stood between the life of the College 
 
 present agitations will work for good. For myself I am determined, by 
 the grace of God, to follow no man as my master, but to adhere *to the 
 faith which was oncegirento the Saints.' Irespectthe memory of my Puri- 
 tan ancestors, and will follow them, though perhaps feebly. In a sturdy ad- 
 herence to principle ; and I hope to show, as I live in an age of more general 
 intercourse of men of different creeds with each other, that I add to prin- 
 ciple an enlarged charity. I read hooks, etc., of many sides, and I trust 
 that I shall have grace to forsake neither truth nor charity; not to lose the 
 faith in a survey of creeds and opinions, nor fail to love Christian princi- 
 ple and Christian character wherever I may see it. If my views change, 
 it seems to me only a natural result of mature study and reflection, that 
 the principles I have received from the revelation of God's word should 
 become more consistent and clear. I am sure I am not growing uncharitable. 
 I am sure I love no Christian less than I have, for any difference of views. 
 If I may judge myself , it is otherwise. Indeed, I believe that in a well 
 balanced mind, charity grows as the principles become more perfectly 
 established. I look abroad with interest on the movements in Christendom. 
 I do it withqut any anxiety, for I know Who has said to His Church, 'I am 
 with you always, even unto the end of the world'. Let me be of His 
 Church, of that which He has purchased with His blood, the Ark of 
 safety, which He has prepared for men, and be enabled to do faithfully 
 the duty He has assigned me, and I see no cause for fear. It seems some- 
 times to me, that there may be, both in the world of politics and religion, 
 troublous times before us, but He lives in whom we live." 
 
BENJAMIN HALE, D. D. 45 
 
 and its death. As much as was within the power of one 
 man he was successful, both in correcting the evils 
 which he found existing, and in securing the stability of 
 the College beyond peradventure. Wherever he was, in 
 the Kecitation Room, in the Academic circle, in the 
 Medical School of which he was ex officio President,* in 
 the Board of Trustees, in the councils of the Bishop and 
 the Diocese, in conferences with the Vestry of old Trin- 
 ity Church, New York, before the Board of Regents, 
 bcibre the Legislature of the State, — he was always the 
 k'arned, sagacious, loyal and inspiring President; re- 
 spected and beloved by all who entered within the circle 
 of his influence ; and illustrating daily in his own person 
 tlie symmetry, strength, and pui-ity, of the principle 
 which governed him. 
 
 To the young who were brought under Dr. Hale's per- 
 sonal influence, he was "Guide, Philosopher, and Friend, "f 
 He had a marvellous educational power in turning their 
 minds and souls towards truth, goodness, and right. 
 As was well said by Dr. Clarke, in his address : ','His 
 
 * Jan. 4, 1849. President Hale conferred the degree of M. D. npon Miss 
 Blaciiwell, of whom he writes: "To-day we have had a Medical Com- 
 meucement, and among the graduates (18) one was a female, Elizaheth 
 Blacliwell, M. D. The first lady M. D. as is supposed, In this and perhaps 
 in any country. No one passed so good an examination as she in the 
 class. She has earned her distinction by great perseverance and thorough 
 study. 
 
 t In a letter dated March 10, 1852, President Hale wrote : "I thought last 
 winter I should like to write a Lecture on 'Obscurity of position favorable 
 to growth,' or some such subject; to illustrate a great fact in the intellectual 
 history of great men. 'The seed springs up and grows, we tnow not how.' 
 Great men generally get the elements of their greatness in retirement. 
 They struggle and toil in obscurity, and lay the foundation of their future 
 success in work which few notice. They work In quiet, they acquire 
 force; they get their growth, and then come out. The man who will be 
 President of the United States twenty years hence is not yet desig- 
 nated, perhaps scarcely known to fame at all. So many years ago the 
 present President was a schoolmaster in a town near Buffalo." 
 
46 MEMOIB OP 
 
 influence did more than we were then aware to lead us 
 sal'ely through the dangers, indiscretions, and follies of 
 our youthful years ; to mould our characters and disci- 
 pline our powers ; and to prepare us for anything good 
 or useful any of us have proposed, attempted or accom- 
 plished since. He was emphatically a teacher of the 
 teachers. And he turned to righteousness many of 
 those who are now the turners to righteousness of their 
 fellow men. It is difficult to over-estimate the import- 
 ance of a position such as he occupied. A wave of in- 
 fluence started from the shore of such a position — from 
 the seat of a teacher's teacher — goes on, vibrating far 
 over the ocean of society. The voice of such a one, 
 uttered in the audience-chamber of the present, keeps 
 sounding and reverberating down the aisles and arches 
 of the distant future. * * All this could be truly 
 said of President Hale. He was at least the equal of 
 his position — certainly the master of his work." 
 
 Doctor Hale instructed thoroughly and easily in every 
 department of learning. He was most fond of Ethical 
 and Metaphysical studies. His class-room will never be 
 forgotten by those who delighted to go to it, and regi'et- 
 ted to leave it. His "decisions" of questions debated 
 in a senate formed by the Senior Class were luminous 
 with wisdom and discretion. His courses of Lectures 
 upon Civil and Ecclesiastical Architecture invested those 
 subjects with never-dying interest. With all this, he 
 loved Music, and read it as easily as the words. His 
 diction was remarkable always for the best English, ex- 
 pressed in the happiest style. In preaching he was a 
 Chrysostom in wisdom, truth and sweetness. His mem^ 
 ory and power of association were almost unening. He 
 possessed an inexhaustible fund of lovely and playful 
 humour. His temper, always held in the nicest balance, 
 
BENJAMIN HALE, D. D. ^f 
 
 was never lost under the severest provocations. But we 
 have not space to dwell upon this theme, nor upon the 
 wholesome influence which Dr. Hale exerted also in the 
 Diocese, towards preparing the way for a second Diocese 
 in ihe State of New York, and in ministering in his 
 place to its unity and order, when under the Episcopal 
 charge of the noble De Lancey.* 
 
 When, in the autumn of 1836, Dr. Hale entered upon 
 his duties as President, he delivered in December an In- 
 augural address, in which, after treating of the views 
 which governed him in discharging his trust, he discoursed 
 upon the equalizing, elevating, and practical character 
 of a complete college education, — comprehending Lan- 
 guage in its most perfect forms. Mathematics and Phj'si- 
 cal Science, Ehetoric, Logic and Metaphysics, and Moral 
 Philosophy. The Baccalaureate Address of 1838 treat- 
 ed of "Education under free institutions in its relation 
 
 * From Dr. Hale's Mem., April, 1S38. "This spring and summer, April, 
 May and June, I wrote several articles for the Gospe\ Messenger to pro- 
 mote the division of the Diocese, under signature of 'Latimer,' and (that 
 being adopted by somebody else) of 'Ridley,' and 'Second Sight.* 
 July, Published a pamphlet on the division of the Diocese, 'The 
 present state of the question.' Aug. 32, present at the Special 
 Convention of the Diocese at Utica, when the question of division was 
 decided. Nov. 1, Primary Convention of Diocese of W. N. T. Was 
 elected on the Standing Committee. After the election of the Bishop by 
 ballot, on my motion the election was made unanimous. This was the 
 beginning of the division of the Diocese, and the first of the motions to 
 mate a disputed election unanimous. 1839, May S and 9, was at the 
 Special Convention at Auburn and Consecration of Bishop De Lancey 
 April 8, 1858, called on the Bishop ; pleasant conversation about times 
 past, and especially the scenes at his election as Bishop, and my part 
 therein. In the course of it, the Bishop thanked me for the support I had 
 given him in his work, and I him for sustaining me; for without the help 
 I had received from him I should not have been able to have sustained the 
 College." 
 
 To this we add a memorandum, under date of Aug. 21, 1844, "Convention 
 of Western New York at Geneva. At this convention I devised and start- 
 ed the Society for educating the sons of the Clergy, made the Constitution, 
 and did the whole." 
 
48 MEMOm OF 
 
 to the full and free development of the Eeason and 
 the Understanding;" In 1839, of "The study of the 
 Latin and Greek Classics as a branch of liberal educa- 
 tion ; In 1841, of "Mathematics; In 1846, of "Moral 
 Philosophy and Metaphysics," as part of a University 
 education ; In 1847, of "The position of The College 
 in the American sj-stem of education and popular mis- 
 conceptions regarding it." Most of these were published. 
 He also delivered Baccalaureate Sermons at sixteen 
 ■Commencements ; a "Lecture on Liberty and Law," be- 
 fore the Young Men's Association of Geneva ; a Lecture 
 before the Union Lyceum of Lyons, on "The sources 
 and means of Education ;" a Lecture before the Teach- 
 er's Institute of Yates Co., on "What is Education?" — 
 A Lecture on "Success and Failure," before the Young 
 Men's Association, of Corning, N. Y., — and a "Sermon 
 on the death of Major Douglass." Some of these Lec- 
 tures etc. were also published. He also published a pamph- 
 let, 1838, on "The present state of the question," in re- 
 lation to the division of the Diocese in New York ; and 
 "Some Historical notices of Geneva College." Through- 
 out these Lectures and Baccalaureate Addresses, a wise 
 unity of design was carefullj' observed ; they are at 
 this day skilful and comprehensive treatises upon their 
 respective subjects. 
 
 After twelve or fourteen years of this varied life at 
 Geneva * Dr. Hale's health began to suffer, and it was 
 
 * Feb. 8th, 1849. Dr Hale writes, "If we can get our matters settled in 
 such a form as to relieve me of this constant out-door work and .inxicty, 
 I shall lie very glad. I .am getting to ho weary of It. It must he done 
 however, and Providence seems to liavo put me in the place to do it, and 
 I have confidence that my work is not to be lost ... A more agreeable post 
 in promise might not be more agreeable in the reality, and one thing is 
 sure, while I am in the way of duty I am in the safest way." 
 
 June 24, 1852. "I should be sorry not to be able to labour. I should 
 cease to feel like a man, though it in a few years we do up our labour, 
 
BENJAMIN nALE, D. D. 49 
 
 thought desirable to secure for him an entire change for a 
 season. He according]}' left this country-, Dec. 12, 1852, 
 in the ship William Tell, for Havre. The route embraced 
 Elavre, Rouen, Paris, Lyons, Avignon, Marseilles, The 
 Mediterranean, Rome, Naples and Pompeii, Pisa, Flor- 
 ence, Bologna, Padua, Venice, Verona, Milan, Turin,. 
 Chambrey, Geneva, IMjon, Paris, London, and portions 
 of the United Kingdom. His health improved. His 
 thoughts were ever with his dear ones at home. The 
 month of Febnaary, 1853, was spent in Rome, of which 
 after giving full details, he writes, "My time in Rome 
 draws near to its close, and I am almost sorry for it, 
 there is so much to see, and it is so necessary to see it 
 deliberately. The wealth of Rome in works of art abso- 
 lutclj' fatigues me. I go into a gallery and the pictures 
 of artists of great name, such as I would hasten to see at 
 home, I scarcely look at ; I content myself with a partic- 
 ular look at a few of the very best, glance at the rest, 
 and run. So too with statues and sculptures of every 
 kind. So with palaces and obelisks — in which Rome 
 abounds — and beautiful fountains elaborate in design 
 and rich in architectural and sculptured decorations. 
 Next week I expect to see Naples, and my next move 
 will be on the return. I shall be glad to feel that I am 
 approaching instead of receding from home. Home ! I 
 shall love it better than ever, and all connected with it. 
 ' 'All I see in Europe so far makes me glad that I and 
 mv children were born in America and not in the old 
 
 and as much as others In a life, we may have little cause for Bucb feeling. 
 Tet I want always to be able to do. If it pleases God." 
 
 Ang. 21, 1852. "I suppose there Is no way of getting free from human 
 Infirmities, and that almost every one has some trouble; and as we ad- 
 vance in life our inflmuties will increase, and we shall be admonished by 
 them of a better land, our real home; where there is no sickness, and 
 years bring no old age, where there is no inflrmlty, and no sorrow." 
 
50 MEMOIB OF 
 
 world." On the 15th of June, he left Liverpool in the 
 steamer, and as he looked his last upon the mother coun- 
 try, he thus writes, "I left England with regret, though 
 glad to be on the way to a land which I love much more. 
 I had met with kindness and hospitality, and had seen 
 everywhere proof of a great and happy people, and a 
 people that deserved to be great and happy. I had seen 
 many objects of great interest, and had left very many 
 more unseen, and people unknown, — objects and people 
 I should have been gtad to see and know if I had had 
 time. While there is no country on earth I should pre- 
 fer to call my own to that in which Providence has kind- 
 ly cast my lot, there is no other to which I could so 
 proudly refer my European origin as England." The 
 steamer landed at New York on the 26th of June. On 
 the 29th he reached Geneva, and was welcomed at the 
 railroad station by the Faculty and students. The 
 President was so far restored in health as to be able to 
 resume his collegiate work with vigor. His letters and 
 journal of this tour furnish delightful reading ; and his 
 conversation, stored with interesting reminiscences, was 
 inexpressibly attractive. 
 
 Years passed on, his strength again declined; and 
 having at last witnessed the planting of the College upon, 
 as he believed, a permanent basis for future work and 
 usefulness, he recognized in his infirm health God's 
 ordering that he withdraw from further oflflcial duty. It 
 was his hope to continue in active service until the Com- 
 mencement of 1858. But he was obliged to cease from 
 responsible work in the Autumn of 1857, and in Decem- 
 ber of that year informed Bishop De Lancey of his in- 
 tention to resign at the next meeting of the Board of 
 Trustees. "I have come to the conclusion, that it will 
 be best for me to resign at the meeting in January, and 
 
BENJAMIN HALE, D. D. 51 
 
 I should rejoice if the Board could be ready at once to 
 fill my place with some one who will serve the College 
 with as sincere devotion to its interests as I have done, 
 and with more ability. As to my successor I have no 
 preference except for the best man * * May a good 
 Providence guide the choice." On the 19th of January, 
 1858, Dr. Hale presented his letter of resignation to 
 the Board of Trustees, from which we desire to extract 
 the following passage, "My official relations to the Col- 
 lege commenced at a period of great depression, and 
 cover others of no little difficulty and embarrassment. It 
 is with feelings of devout gratitude to God, that I re- 
 member the unbroken harmony, which through them all 
 has existed in our councils ; and I render 3'ou, Gentle- 
 men, my heartfelt thanks for the confidence j'ou have at 
 all times showed me, and the uniform support you have 
 given me in my labours. I cannot leave a position 
 which I have held for so many years, and which has been 
 a source of so much happiness to me, without many re- 
 grets." 
 
 The Board accepting his resignation made response as 
 follows : "The Committee to whom was referred the let- 
 ter of Doctor Hale, ofiered the following Resolution, 
 which was unanimously adopted. Resolved, That in ac- 
 cepting the resignation of the Rev. Benj. Hale, D. D., 
 on account of the infirm state of his health, the Board 
 record on their minutes the unanimous expression of 
 their regret at its necessity, and their warm and cordial 
 recognition of the fidelity, ability, and self-devotion with 
 which he has administered the College ; of the sacrifices 
 he has made in its behalf; of his pei'severing adherence 
 to its Interest and welfare in its darkest hours ; of his 
 success in elevating it to its present prosperity ; and of 
 the talent, suavity, zeal, and usefulness, that have char- 
 
52 MEMOm OF 
 
 acterized his presidency in its bearing upon the interests 
 of education and the Church. And with their cordial 
 thanks for his able, and successful labours in the College, 
 they tender him their hearty wishes and prayers for res- 
 toration, welfare, and happiness ; and cherish the hope 
 to enjoy the benefit of his counsels and cooperation as a 
 Member of the Board in the future management of the 
 Institution, which has been so highly favoured by his 
 services." 
 
 So ended harmoniously and pleasantly his presidency 
 of Hobart (formerlj' Geneva) College. On the 11th of 
 March, the Rev. Abner Jackson, D.D., LL.D., of Trin- 
 ity College was elected President, and accepted. 
 
 Near the close of April following. Dr. Hale offered his 
 resignation as a Member of the Standing Committee. 
 The Committee in response to his communication. Re- 
 solved, "That this Committee have heard with great re- 
 gret the necessity, which deprives our Diocese of the 
 valuable services of one, who has been since its organi- 
 zation a member of the Standing Committee, and its able 
 and faithful Secretary since the first year of its existence. 
 Resolved, That in accepting the resignation of Dr. Hale, 
 it is fit to place upon our records our estimate of the 
 great worth of his wise and judicious counsels, and of 
 the friendly and Christian spirit which has characterized 
 all his intercourse with the members of the Committee. 
 Resolved, That the thanks of this Committee be present- 
 ed to the Rev. Doctor Hale for the careful and faithful 
 manner in which he has so long discharged the duties of 
 Secretary to the Standing Committee and Board of Mis- 
 sions." 
 
 On the 29th of April, Dr. Hale removed from the 
 house which he built for his residence as President in 
 1844, and which he sold to the Trustees for the use of 
 
BENJAMIN HALE, D. D. 53 
 
 his successor, — to the house next south of the Medical 
 College in Main Street, where he lived until his removal 
 from Geneva in Jul}', 1859. Commencement Day, 1858, 
 fell on the 1st of July. The new President presided with 
 ease and dignity and the exercises passed off well. Then 
 followed the dinner, and after the removal of the cloth 
 Dr. Hale entered leaning on the arm of a friend. A val- 
 uable service of plate, consisting of a silver salver, pitch- 
 er and goblets, was then presented to him by the Rev. 
 Mr. Van Eensellaer in the name of the Alumni and 
 friends of the College. It was a touching scene. "We 
 could not allow you" said the speaker, "to retire from 
 that higfi position, which you have filled, allow me to say, 
 with so much honor to yourself, and so much benefit to 
 this College, without bearing with j'ou some token of 
 that place which you have won in our heart of hearts. 
 When we look back upon the past career of this seat of 
 Christian learning, when we recall the vicissitudes 
 through which it has passed, during your administration, 
 when we review the catalogue of its Alumni trained un- 
 der your eye and teaching, when we witness its present 
 high and enviable position, we own with thankfulness 
 the blessing of God upon your faithful and self-denying 
 labors,; we feel that it is indebted under Him, mainly to 
 your persistent fidelity and unwavering devotion for its 
 prosperity, not to say its existence. Your monument, 
 Sir, and it is the proudest one that man can wish for on 
 earth, will be found in those Halls of Learning consecra- 
 ted by the pious munificence of a venerable religious 
 Corporation, to the purposes of a free education ; in the 
 influence of your faithful instructions and paternal coun- 
 sels upon the minds of those young men who have gone 
 forth into the world from beneath their shadow ; in those 
 distinguished names, who either in the Church or in the 
 
54 MEMOIB'OF 
 
 service of the Republic, will show the blessed and noble 
 fruits of their training here. * * * You will honor 
 us, venerable and beloved Sir, by taking with you these 
 offerings, whose chief value is that they are the prompt- 
 ings of hearts that cherish you, and will retain through 
 life the memory of one who has taught them so well by 
 his own precept and example : 
 
 '■Stat sua cuique dies; breve et irreparahile tempus. 
 Omnibus est vitae; sedfamcm, extender e factis, 
 Hoc virtutis opus.' " 
 
 To which Dr. Hale replied with a graceful acknowledge- 
 ment, in the course of which he said, "I leave my cares 
 in good hands, and I lay aside my work with assurances, 
 as beautiful as grateful, of the kind consideration of 
 friends whom I love, and whose good opinion I shall 
 never cease to value. My own calculations had looked 
 forward to a few more years of labour, but a higher wisdom 
 has ordered it otherwise, and I accept its arrangements not 
 only with cheerfulness, but with devout thanks. I have 
 been happy in my work — I am happy in my retirement." 
 
 Of this incident Dr. J. M. Clarke thus wrote, "The 
 dinner was somewhat advanced when the ex-President of 
 the College came in with feeble step, leaning on his son- 
 in-law's arm. Much changed, alas ! by bodily infirmity, 
 it was yet the same wise, kind, sagacious, Socratic face, 
 by us so much revered, so dearly loved. And there at 
 the tables were the long rows of Alumni of Hobart, 
 sons ready to receive a father's blessing. I know not if 
 we rose to do him honor, but I know that we all bowed be- 
 fore him in our hearts. He was able to remain but for a 
 moment — like Jacob of old, 'he made an end of com- 
 manding his sons, and was gathered unto his people.' * * 
 I had had my last sight on earth of Dr. Hale, ^Sit Anima 
 
BENJAMIN HALE, D. D. 55 
 
 mea cum illo' in Paradise ! May my lot be with his in the 
 Resurrection of the Just." 
 
 While the Doctor was yet present, Mr. Calvin Hu- 
 son, the Dean of the House of Convocation, read a 
 series of Resolutions (which we would gladly transcribe 
 did our limits permit) offered by the Rev. Wm. T. 
 Gibson, and adopted by that body, closing with the 
 announcement that books of subscription were opened 
 for the founding of a Fund, to be called The President 
 Male Fund for the increase of the College Library. To 
 this also Dr. Hale responded briefly. 
 
 Once again before his departure for the East did the 
 ex-President meet in an assembly his friends of the Col- 
 lege. On the 29th of June, 1859, the Trustees and 
 others proceeded to the Library to witness the presenta- 
 tion to the Trustees of the marble bust of Dr. Hale, 
 which the members of the Alpha Delta Phi Society had 
 executed at their expense by Mr. J. M. Mundy. Ad- 
 dressing Dr. Hale in the name of the Society, Prof. 
 Albert J. Wheeler closed with these kindly words : "You 
 have more claims upon us than we can ever acknowledge. 
 As the thorough and skilful teacher, as the laborious and 
 self-sacrificing President, as the sympathizing friend, 
 the genial companion, the judicious adviser, the courteous 
 Christian gentleman, — in all these relations you have 
 so borne yourself as to gain our profound respect and 
 our tender affection. May heaven bless you, Sir ; and 
 grant you the same large measure of happiness which 
 you have ever aimed to secure to others." 
 
 In the summer of 1859 Dr. Hale removed to Newbury- 
 port, Massachusetts, to live near his birth place, by the 
 graves of his fathers, and near the home of those 
 brothers and only living sister, who had generously held 
 up his hands by every means within their power. We 
 
66 MEUOIB OF 
 
 can but touch upon the few remaining years of his life 
 of usefulness and blessing. In his new residence, as was 
 happily said, "his influence upon the community distilled 
 like the dews of heaven to gladden the earth. As a 
 gentleman and scholar, as a neighbor and a citizen, he was 
 not alone respected, — he was loved." Here he took 
 his daily walks ; he looked in, daily, at the homestead ; 
 he renewed acquaintance with the surviving friends of 
 his youth ; he ran down to Boston, and explored many 
 places of interest in the vicinity ; he revisited Gardiner, 
 and Saco, and Brunswick ; he ventured up the valley of 
 the Connecticut to see his relatives, and children and 
 grandchildren ; he prepared papers on family Genealogy ; 
 he received calls, and worked in his garden, or at his 
 bench ; read many books ; wrote charming letters to his 
 friends ; studied carefully the Ecclesiastical History of 
 New England, and was prevented only by indispo- 
 sition from writing out the results of his studies in this 
 interesting field. His skill and fine taste in Architect- 
 ure were pleasantly engaged in assisting the Rector of 
 St. Paul's (the Rev. W. Horton, D. D.) to design and 
 build St. Anna's Chapel, a beautiful and valuable gift 
 from the Rector to his Parish. For a time his health 
 appeared to improve, so much so that he recorded in his 
 diary with great satisfaction, under date of Feb. 26, 
 1860, "This is the first time I have ventured to preach 
 since my sickness in August, 1857." After this he 
 preached many times, and conducted the Service with 
 great contentment. 
 
 During this period we have many choice morceaux 
 from his pen, observations, and reflections, and bits of 
 entertaining narrative ; of which we venture to transcribe 
 a very few. In a letter (dated Jan. 20, 1860) to a dear 
 friend, the Rector of Trinity Church, Geneva, he writes, 
 
BENJAMIN HALE, D. D. 57 
 
 "We are very comfortably fitted up, more as if we had a 
 long time to stay, than as those who are pretty well along in 
 the down hill of life, But I could not help it. Our 
 friends have been so extremely kind. We will be thank- 
 ful, and pray that we may use all to the glory of our 
 Master and Lord." — ^Again, June 9, "What am I doing, 
 that so occupies me ? I am reading the History of New 
 England, studying Edwards' life, and referring to all 
 sorts of books that I may understand the curious ebbs . 
 and flows, etc., of the Ecclesiastical History of New 
 England. If I were j'ounger, etc., I might be tempted 
 to address a letter to the writers of the views in New 
 England Theology, and ask them if they are so unversed 
 in its history that the new Apostacy is a matter of any 
 surprise to them, — refer them to the lapse into a sort of 
 low Arminianism which began long before the 17th cen- 
 tury was through ; the monstrous dereliction in regard 
 to the terms of communion, which became so prevalent 
 that in the whole County of Hampshire with sixty min- 
 isters one only beside Edwards was true to the original 
 rule ; the lapse into Unitarianism of the laxer part, 
 after the great revival of 1740 ; and the lapse into anti- 
 poedo baptism of a great many of the most zealous, etc., 
 etc. The whole history showing that Congregationalism 
 has not an organization that can hold what it gets, that it 
 builds up nothing, and is and must be the nurse of apos- 
 tacies, so long as human nature remains what it is ; while 
 the more sound and conservative portion will always be 
 struggling to roll up the stone of Sisyphus, without trigs to 
 stay it." He records in his Journal, May 1, 1860, a call 
 with members of his family upon Aunt Harris "to pay 
 our respects and express our good wishes on this her 
 ninety-ninth birth day. She enters upon her one hun- 
 dredth year in very comfortable health. There were 
 
58 MEMOIB OF 
 
 thus brought together representatives of five successive 
 generations. 1. Aunt Harris, (ned Ann Tappan) born 
 1761. 2. My Mother (her sister's daughter) born 1786. 
 3. Myself, born 1797. 4. Mrs. Sarah Douglass (my 
 daughter) born 1832. 5. Her three children ; M. C. D., 
 B. H. D., D. B. D., the youngest born in 1858." 
 
 To the Rector at Geneva, June 9, 1860, quoting a cer- 
 tain entry in his Journal of Nov., 1852. " 'C — walked 
 with me as far as the ferry on my return, and we had very 
 pleasant converse about — (who died six weeks before) 
 She and C — being the two youngest were most together. 
 C — told me many interesting particulars illustrating the 
 depth and fulness of her Christian character, her admira- 
 ble patience ; their regular reading of the Scriptures ac- 
 cording to the lessons ; their prayers ; the exclusion of 
 all conversation on worldly matters after their evening 
 devotions ; their repetition of the Creed after they had 
 retired, that their last thoughts, and so their waking 
 thoughts, might be on some point of the Christian faith ; 
 their saying of Hymns, if they happened to awake in 
 the night, that their thoughts might be of God, and to 
 exclude vain thoughts ; her perfect freedom from all fear 
 of death ; and quiet resignation. Truly she was a child 
 of God.' This was a testimony to C — 's as well as — 's 
 piety, though C — was telling it all to me in regard to her 
 sister. • As I read it over, it struck me as so beautiful a 
 picture of a mutual helping of each other's joy and life 
 in God between two sisters, that I knew you would be 
 touched with it. I wish there were many more such 
 pages in my journal, but one does not meet with such 
 sisters every day ; though we meet with them, I hope, 
 oftener than with the opportunity of knowing of their 
 unseen sweet communings with their Maker." 
 
 To the Rector at Geneva, Aug. 30, 1860. "I hope all 
 
BENJAMIN HALE, D. D. 59 
 
 things will get into exactly the right shape, and the Col- 
 lege go on prosperouslj'. The endowment looks like 
 succeeding. The Chapel and the Chaplaincy will do a 
 great deal. They remind me of our former hard work. 
 No one hereafter will sustain in his own single person so 
 many high offices as I did. I was like a little boy train- 
 ing aU alone, — with his Captain's plume and sword, — 
 beating his own drum, and enacting as many parts as he 
 could tie about him. I was President, Professor, Chap- 
 lain, Sunday preacher, Committee of ways and means. 
 College member of Assembly, and general beggar ; and 
 at one time Treasurer, Collector, and Comptroller, — 
 Captain Cook and almost all hands. Good times to look 
 back upon, and, though hard to pass through, a thousand 
 times better than stagnation. It seems like a dream ; 
 and as I sit or lounge in my quiet and comfortable 
 library, I can hardly realize that I have been through 
 more than twenty years of service in Western New 
 York, — that the work of my life is in all probability pret- 
 ty much over." To the same, Apr. 6, 1861. "There 
 must be a vast deal of unbelief afloat in tbe atmosphere, 
 and I suppose it infects a good deal of our literature. The 
 Carlisle school, the Broad Church scjiool, the German 
 criticism school, etc. I read the Westminster Eeview 
 somewhat, and am not surprised that doubt should in- 
 vade a great many minds, as to the reality of such an 
 inspiration of the Sacred Records as we have been in the 
 habit of attributing to them, in such an age of utter 
 division and disruption, such slashing and iiTeverent crit- 
 icism. Christianity is denied piecemeal by heretics — one 
 part by one set, another by another — by one less, by 
 another more, and it is not a long step for some of them 
 to deny everything that separates it from Natural Relig- 
 ion. I live too much by myself to know how people are 
 
60 MEMOIR OF 
 
 thinking and judging around me, by any actual observa- 
 tion ; but it seems to me sometimes tliat those who believe 
 in their hearts, believe also with their heads, and that 
 more or less of scepticism may affect the rest. It makes 
 me sad to see such a book as the Essays and Reviews 
 setting at defiance the discipline of the Church of 
 England, when it has fallen so heavily on much lighter 
 offences. But enough. Let us pray and labor for the 
 faith— the full faith." * * * "How strangely founda- 
 tions seem to be shaken. "Who could have imagined six 
 months ago the position in which our country now finds 
 itself. How easily we have divided, and how rapidly 
 becoming enemies. And Europe as unsettled as we. 
 The divided, however, as Italy, seem to be crystallizing 
 into a united Kingdom, — and the weak, like Spain, to be 
 showing new signs of life and vigour. What next, and 
 whereto does it all tend ? Perhaps we shall soon see some 
 development which will restore the credit of the Prophets, 
 and the faith which men seem so fast to be losing. Old 
 Bishop Chase's motto is a good one, 'Jehovah Jh-eh.' " 
 •i * * "Judge RedBeld (Isaac F.)came. I have had 
 a most comfortable time with him, and enjoyed his visit 
 very much. He is a most remarkable man. How easily 
 and how naturally, intellectual force, piety of the most 
 faithful kind, and perfect simplicity of character and man- 
 ner are combined in him. We had a world wide talk." 
 * * * "You know New England people. They 
 would not have their judges in gowns and wigs — they 
 would not sustain Cambridge in an attempt at a College 
 uniform. You may amuse the idle, but you cannot at- 
 tract the sober and earnest by anything which looks to 
 them like fripperj'." 
 
 In his Journal, under date of September 28, 1861, we 
 find this entry. "This is the thirty-third anniversary of 
 
BENJAMIN HALE, D. D. 61 
 
 my ordination as Deacon by Bishop Griswold. — From a 
 recent survey of memoranda, I find I have preached since 
 my ordination about one thousand times. I have never 
 had charge of a Parish except temporarily. For about 
 six weeks in 1832 I had charge of St. Paul's, Portland. 
 And in 1834, for about three months, that of St. Paul's, 
 Boston, — while the Rector, Dr. Stone, was absent in 
 Europe. I was at both these times a Professor of Dart- 
 mouth College. I received for my services at Boston 
 f 350 ; at Portland $ 72 ; for six Sundays at Claremont 
 in 1834, $50. I recollect two occasions on which five 
 dollars were handed me to pay my expenses — which they 
 more than did, $10. I had occasionally my expenses paid 
 when I went abroad to preach, but very frequently — and 
 my impression is, most frequently — I paid my own ex- 
 penses of travelling ; and probably have expended that 
 way no inconsiderable part of the whole amount I have 
 ever received for preaching. So that I have very nearly 
 preached, on the whole, without charge, so far as I have 
 preached. This statement is, I think, quite within the 
 truth." Dr. Hale afterwards said pleasantly, in view of 
 all this, that his sermons might be rated as worth a very 
 little less than fifty cents apiece. 
 
 Writing to his friend, the Eector at Geneva, he says, 
 Oct. 25, 1861 : — "I am reading Milman's Latin Chi'is- 
 tianity, and am much more interested than I expected. 
 He strikes me as having more of Tacitus than any of our 
 English historians. He gives us the 'Latin,' but the 
 'Christianity' was I presume most vigorous among the 
 retired people whom History overlooks. It sometimes 
 gleams up." — Nov. 20, 1861, writing to his friend 
 Prof. Kendrick Metcalf, D. D. of Geneva, whose birth- 
 day coincided in date with Dr. Hale's, he says : — "Thus 
 you have the ages of all in line, to the first of my name 
 
62 MEMOIR OF 
 
 here in this old town. I tave outlived the average age. 
 My mother's ancestors have generally been of longer life. 
 You are eight years younger than I, and still in working 
 order. I will not say, I wish I were so, — for I would 
 take contentedly all God's appointments. And yet it 
 may be not without blame to myself, that I am a used-up 
 man. I feel the greatest desire to do something, besides 
 caring for my own comfort. That seems to be well pro- 
 vided for, and for that I have the greatest reason to be 
 thankful. And if the work that I would do can and will 
 be done by others, for that too I should be, and am, thank- 
 ful. We are not without abundant cause for thanksgiving, 
 in the public one, or yours and mine. Our magnificent 
 harvests, our continued fine weather, everything but the 
 war ; and that, I, who am a good hoper, hope will end 
 well, and for the public good ; though it is a dreadful evil, 
 and a costly way of getting good, and one that could not 
 be necessary if we were all what we ought to be." — 
 To the same, Christmas Day, 1861, — "I read the other 
 day Eeade's novel, 'The Cloister and the Hearth,' and 
 having for many years cherished a good deal of regard 
 and indeed some anection for Erasmus, I read it with 
 great interest. It is a storj' of Erasmus' parentage, and 
 seems to have been well studied, as well as well worked 
 out."— Jan. 30, 1862, To the Rector at Geneva:— "As 
 to our national affairs, I should like to chat with you, but 
 cannot write. There is too much to say ; I hope for the 
 best, but my hope is in God, from whom I trust will come 
 our salvation. I believe our cause to be essentially right, 
 but I believe none the less that we deserve chastisement 
 for many oflTences, and need some humiliation to take 
 down our pride and self-confidence. I hope we have not 
 sinned so far, but that 'loving correction may make us 
 great,' — greater than ever, — but great for good." — March 
 
BENJAMIN HALE, D. D. 63 
 
 11, 1862. — "The drama seems to be in the fifth act. 
 Maj' the God of battles make the close as speedy and ef- 
 fective and merciful as may be. I hope you like the 
 President's proclamation.* It looks to me like a wise 
 measure, — one of those beginnings, modest but preg- 
 nant, from which may come great things. It opens a 
 door, makes a way for the waters, and that was what 
 we wanted. 'Old Abe' seems to me to have been very 
 providentially provided for us. And was not the Moni- 
 tor sent to Fortress Monroe very providentially? I hope 
 we may so see the Divine hand, as to fall on our knees." 
 May 8, 1862. — "We do live in stirring times, and the 
 stir increases as if the pudding were almost done. What 
 a horrible mess the politicians of the South have made. 
 What loss of life, what wretchednessj what poverty. 
 They have upset their own apple-cart more efiectually 
 than anybody could do it for them, and have accomplish- 
 ed what all the abolitionists in the world could not do. 
 I do not know where it will all end, but I believe, in 
 good. I suppose it may take some time for the South to 
 subside completely, — but I think not so long as many 
 suppose. It will be a prodigious relief to the people of 
 the South to have markets open, supplies coming in, the 
 security of a settled government, conscriptions ended, 
 and the shade of their own vine and fig trees. The 
 white rank and file of the Slave States have probably 
 been getting new ideas of things, of which we shall see 
 the fruits." 
 
 Feb. 13, 1863.— To Eev. Dr. Metcalf :— "I was in- 
 terested in your remarks on Mr. Choate's Memoirs. * * 
 I could not help thinking how different might have been 
 my course of life, had I remained at Dartmouth, where, 
 
 * Query Message? 1. e., the mesBage suggesting measnres for the grai. 
 ual abolition of slavery. 
 
64 MEMOIB OF 
 
 you know, I passed my Freshman year. I was of the 
 Class of 1818, Choate of that of 1819, Marsh (James) 
 1817, etc. I should have felt the excitement of the 
 time, and probably the impulse of the spirit of scholar- 
 ship, which was then so strong. My health led me to 
 Brunswick, where I fell into a very good Class, but 
 without any great scholars or enthusiasm ; and Dr. Ap- 
 pleton was teaching Butler admirably, and Cleaveland 
 was giving his clear and classical instruction in Physical 
 and Chemical science. I suppose there was a wise over- 
 ruling in the matter, and that I was better fitted for the 
 'man of all work' sort of life I have lived. Choate would 
 have been worth something in these times." — To the 
 Rector at Geneva, Mar. 17, 1863. "We are bound to a 
 wise economy of all our resources and means, in order 
 to their holding out and giving the maximum result. I 
 spent too fast, — but not faster than God's providence 
 seemed to call for, and therefore perhaps not too fast." — 
 To Rev. D. Metcalf, Mar. 31, 1863. "Once I loved 
 hard work and responsibility. I suppose I should now, 
 if I could feel myself quite equal to them. But a man 
 who sometimes feels hi§ gait a little tottering, hardly 
 feels equal to anything but a tumble. My tottering has 
 not come to that, and perhaps when the east winds blow 
 from the west my step will be firmer."* * "The Wash- 
 ington birth-day celebration — which I introduced (in the 
 College) though perhaps, and probably, with hints from 
 others — has been, I think, a good thing. And if the 
 Farewell Address had been everywhere in colleges and 
 schools, thus solemnly (solennially) held forth as the po- 
 litical creed, in which the American youth were to be 
 trained, it would have been better for the country. 
 Washington did not proceed upon theory, — like Jefferson 
 the American philosopher of Democracy, or some of 
 
BENJAMIN HALE, D. D. 65 
 
 our recent abolition philosophers, — ^but upon that mix- 
 ture of experience, common sense, sagacity, and good 
 judgment, which 'a large, sound, and round-about 
 good sense,' works up into practical wisdom ; — of the 
 safe sort, not showy, — too slow for fast men, but 
 just the thing for those who look to long and safe in- 
 vestments for themselves and posterity. * * ''Your 
 allusion to the four sons of Clergymen, and the old New 
 England saying about Ministers' sons, fell in with obser- 
 vations I have often made. The history of this part of 
 Massachusetts is full of illustrations of their success. 
 The PhiUipses, the Parsonses, the Barnards, the Lowells, 
 the Parkmans, the Brookeses (Peter C.) the Havens, 
 etc., are of clerical descent. From my observation I 
 look upon the probabilities of success of the children of 
 country Ministers as higher, by many per cent, than 
 of any other young people." — To the Rector at 
 Geneva, May 5, 1863. "We have got our Chapel about 
 done. * * Dr. Horton is. very much gratified with 
 our success, though it has cost him so much more than 
 he at first proposed. This was however no miscalcula- 
 tion of ours, but the growth of his own conceptions of 
 what he wanted to accomplish. — I say 'ours' for I, in a 
 sort, directed the plan, though I could give it much less 
 attention than I wished." 
 
 The last service which Dr. Hale was able to attend 
 was on the 1st of May, in the Church of the Advent, 
 Boston, where he read the "Post-Communion." The 
 last entry in his Diary for 1863 is dated July 7th, and 
 notices the capture of Vicksburg. 
 
 Doctor Hale died as he had lived, not without trial and 
 pain, but calmly, gently, with the fortitude of a Philoso- 
 pher, and the resignation of an humble Christian. — Dar- 
 ing the months of May and June he was assaulted at 
 
66 MEMOIR OF 
 
 times with pains in the chest, which he did not then 
 understand. But by the close of the month they were 
 clearly traced to the influence of angina pectoris. He 
 foresaw the approaching end, settled his earthly affairs, 
 sent for the Rector, who administered to him the Holy 
 Communion, and quietly, cheerfully, endured- By the 
 13th.of July his family had for the most part assembled, 
 full of love, sympathy, and sorrow. — He said to his 
 brother Josiah, "It is a hard struggle, and death will gain 
 the mastery now, but I shall have the victory in the end." 
 In response to some very comforting texts repeated by 
 his friend Dr. BoUes, he said "God has been very merci- 
 ful. He has given me many blessings through my life ; 
 but I chiefly am thankful for the great gift of his Son 
 Jesus Christ, through whom alone I have hope of eternal 
 life." A portion of the OflJce for the visitation of the 
 sick was read, in which the Doctor repeated the Apostles' 
 Creed aloud firmly and emphatically. His son-in-law 
 laid his hand upon the sufferer's head and said "God 
 Almighty, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, 
 bless, preserve and keep you, my dear father, now and 
 forever. Amen." "Amen," he responded, and added 
 most feelingly, "Thank you, thank you, my dear son." 
 He pressed his eldest son's hand, and his daughter's hand 
 also, saying "There is a blessing for all your children." 
 He said to his wife, "I love you," and folded her in 
 his arms. 
 
 He needed much attention during the night, being 
 obliged, through all, to be seated, reclining caused him 
 extreme suffering. On the 14th, early, the pain became 
 very intense. Prayers were offered with and for him, 
 and the "Gloria in Excelsis" read. He joined in repeat- 
 ing that Angelical Hymn, and at its close said, "What 
 blessed, blessed words are these!" — "I am bearing," he 
 
BENJAMIN HALE, D. D. 67 
 
 said, "mj' part of the terrible burden wMch sin has 
 brought upon us." After an acute paroxysm, "Could the 
 pain of crucifixion be worse than this ?" — Again, and in 
 a solemn voice, "And being in an agony. He prayed." 
 During a pause in this trial, he roused himself unexpect- 
 edly to us, and spoke out strongly, "God Almighty bless 
 the Chapel, which is to be consecrated this day," meaning 
 the new Chapel of Geneva College. — As the day wore 
 on, his nervous system became less sensitive to pain, 
 and he dozed more. He recognized one of his sons from 
 New York, who had just arrived, and his brother from 
 Vermont, and others. "When those blessed words were 
 read, "Come unto Me, all ye weary and heavy laden, 
 and I will give you rest," he responded "oh yes ! oh 
 yes!" 
 
 On the morning of the 15th, he was greatly wearied af- 
 ter a restless night, but, when aroused, his head was 
 clear, and he recognized another son, just arrived. * 
 
 So his soul, on this day, gently passed away. On the 
 18th inst, with the solemn Burial Office, his body was 
 laid away, to rest in the Belleville Cemetery, in peace, 
 and in the hope of the Eesurreetion of the Just. 
 
 Surely, one is tempted to exclaim, God who made such 
 a man, with so clear an intellect, so just a spirit, so pure 
 a heart ; and kept him by the power of His Holy Spirit 
 in the grace of godliness aU his life, designed him to fill 
 a higher seat in the courts above than many of us may 
 look to fill. 
 
 The influence of Benjamin Hale's life and conversation 
 upon the structure of society was of the nature of that 
 
 * The telegram which summoned two of his sons from Sew York was 
 the very last recelTed In Ihat city, hefore the riot of this week obliged the 
 Offices to close. Without it, notice conld not have reached them in time 
 for the sick room or the funeraL 
 
68 MEMOIR OF 
 
 Charity, which — like well tempered mortar in a wall — is 
 the very bond of peace and of all virtues. He bound to- 
 gether by his goodness, and cemented by his love, and 
 strengthened by his wisdom and consistency, the diverse 
 elements with which he was continually brought in con- 
 tact. The character of no man, woman, or chUd, ever 
 suffered at his hands. No persons were ever set at va- 
 riance with one another. We remember the satisfaction 
 with which he told of the reconciliation of. two worthy 
 men, who had fallen out. He boarded with one, and was, 
 as they knew, intimate with both, and each talked with 
 him and made complaint of the other. But he never 
 answered them, unless to suggest a kinder interpretation 
 of displeasing acts ; nor repeated the hard things which 
 were said of one by the other. Thus, by abstaining from 
 adding fuel to the fire, the heat died out, and he had 
 the happiness of seeing his two friends perfectly recon- 
 ciled, they having been greatly aided, as he believed, by 
 his forbearance. He was never different in private from 
 that which he appeared to be in society or in public. He 
 was ever the kind, affable, courteous, Christian gentleman ; 
 ever unselfish, ever regardful of the interests, the feelings, 
 and the happiness of others ; ever prepared to advise, to 
 aid, to rejoice, or to sympathize, with all around him. 
 As a silver-toned bell alwa3's returns a pure and sweet 
 vibration, he knew not how to act or utter those jan- 
 gling, discordant sounds, which reveal the presence of 
 baser metal, or an unequal mixture, or troublesome flaws 
 in the casting. 
 
BENJAMIN HALE, D. D. 69 
 
 Incised upon his Monument this trae record may be 
 seen: 
 
 HE WAS 
 
 "wise unto that which is good, 
 
 AND harmless CONCERNING EVIL." 
 
 THANKS 
 
 BE TO GOD, 
 
 FOR THE BLESSED EXAMPLE 
 
 OF HIS "works, AND CHARITY, AND SERVICE, 
 
 AND FAITH, AND PATIENCE." 
 
 AMEN. 
 
 ^ 
 
70 MEMOIR OF 
 
 Doctor Hale's published works, not including divers 
 
 brief articles on current topics, are as follows : 
 
 "Address to the public from the Trustees of the Gardiner 
 Lyceum." 1822. 
 
 "Inaugural Address at Gardiner." Jan., 1823. 
 
 "Address to the public in regard to the Lyceum." 1824. 
 
 "Introduction to the Mechanical principles of Carpentry." 
 1827. 
 
 "Sermon, before the Convention of N. Hampshire." 1830. 
 
 "Lecture, before the American Institute of Instruction, on 
 the best methods of teaching Natural Philosophy." 1830 . 
 
 "Sermon, before Convention of the Eastern Diocese, on 
 The Unity of God." published in "The Episcopal Pul- 
 pit." Feb. 1833. 
 
 "Scriptural Illustrations of the Liturgy of the P. E. 
 Church." 1835. 
 
 ' 'Valedictory Letter to the Trustees of Dartmouth Col- 
 lege." Oct. 1835. 
 
 "Inaugural Address, Geneva College, Dec, 21, 1836." 
 published 1837. 
 
 "Lecture before Young Men's Association, Geneva, on 
 Liberty and Law." 18o8. 
 
 Baccalaureate, "Education in its relations to a free 
 Government." 1838. 
 
 "Thte present state of the question," in relation to the di- 
 vision of the Diocese of "W. N. Y. 1838. 
 
 Baccalaureate, "The Languages.'' 1839. 
 
 Baccalaureate, "Mathematics." 1841. 
 
 "Lecture on Sources and Means of Education." 1846. 
 
 "What is Education ?" 1846 . 
 
 Baccalaureate, "Position of the College, State, Church," 
 etc. 1847. 
 
 "Historical notices of Geneva College." 1849. 
 
 Sermon, on Death of Major Douglass, 1849. 
 
REMINISCENCES. 
 
 BY EEV. JOHK N. NORTON, D. D. 
 
 My Dear Sir : 
 
 You ask me to furnish some rem- 
 iniscences of my old preceptor an.d friend, Dr. 
 Benjamin Hale ; and although I have too little 
 time at my command to do justice to the subject, 
 you must at least give me credit for cheerfully do- 
 ing the best that I can. 
 
 In the autumn of 1838 my good father took me 
 to Geneva to enter the Freshman class of the Col- 
 lege, and as we drove along the streets of the 
 pleasant village, the President discovered us, and 
 came across the way to invite us to dinner. Hav- 
 ing seldom seen the head of a College before, I 
 looked upon him with considerable awe, but his 
 kind and gracious manners soon set me at ease. 
 The General Convention was then in session in 
 Philadelphia, and while we waited for dinner the 
 Doctor took out a paper from his pocket, and read 
 aloud the latest report of its proceedings, — includ- 
 ing a notice of Bishop Meade's sermon before that 
 august body. Little did the two clergymen who, 
 in that quiet study, discussed the various topics 
 which were causing ripples to arise on the surface 
 
2 BEMINI8CENCES. 
 
 of Church affairs, foresee all that the future should 
 disclose. Little did they suspect that the surging 
 waves of popular fury would, in this year of grace, 
 1864, be threatening the stout old Ship of State, 
 w^ith dangers too dreadful to contemplate. 
 
 At the time of my entering College, its affairs, 
 so long gloomy and depressed, had begun decided- 
 ly to improve. Dr. Hale had shown himself to be 
 the right man in the right place. Trinity Hall, 
 (as the new building was called, out of gratitude 
 to Trinity Church, IS&w York, the liberal patron 
 of the College,) had juat been completed, and I 
 had a snug room assigned me within its \\a,\\%. 
 One of my classmates was the present editor of 
 the Gospel Messenger, the Rev. William T. Gibson, 
 D.D.; and another was George L. Duyckinck, — 
 whose later years were spent in literary labors, 
 and who did so much for our Sunday School 
 Union and Church Book Society. No purer or 
 better man could anywhere be found. 
 
 The Freshman Class in 1838 consisted of twenty, 
 five of whom are clergymen, — Philip Spencer, 
 whose name is rather unpleasantly associated with 
 Capt. Slidell Mc Kensie, of the Brig Sommers, was 
 a, member of it. 
 
 Beginning at the very bottom of the College 
 ladder as we did, we saw little of President Hale 
 for the first year or two, except as he officiated 
 morning and evening in the chapel, and on Mon- 
 day afternoon when he read out of a great book 
 the report of our standing and deportment during 
 the previous week. I may be pardoned for saying, 
 
MEMINISCENCES. 3 
 
 in passing, that as much pains as the professors 
 and tutors may take to secure accuracy about such 
 matters, it is almost impossible to be attained. 
 While the conscientious student who acted as 
 monitor, to note the attendance at chapel, would 
 be engaged in his devotions, a mischievous youth 
 would slyly abstract his report from his hat or his 
 pocket, and change the record ; and I well remem- 
 ber the case of an idle lad who stood so low in his 
 class as to call forth an angry threat from his more 
 ambitious father, — that if he did not improve in 
 this particular, he should be severely punished. 
 Instead of rising to a higher standard by burning 
 the midnight oil, the shrewd fellow would climb 
 in at the tutor's window, while that gentleman 
 was quietly consuming his coflee and buckwheat 
 cakes, in the village, and by a skilful use of India- 
 rubber, and a lead pencil, change his remarkably 
 low figures into those of respectable magnitude. 
 
 I can recall, very distinctly, the first occasion 
 when I heard Dr. Hale preach. It was on Sunday 
 afternoon, in the plain old wooden building, where 
 the congregation of' Trinity Church worshipped 
 for so many years. The Doctor read the service 
 in his own simple and beautiful way, and preached 
 from the text, "There is no fear in love ; but per- 
 fect love casteth out fear ; because fear hath tor- 
 ment." (1 John 4 : 18). 
 
 "That sermon was a rich feast," remarked a 
 good judge of preaching, as we left the courts of 
 the Lord ; and so, indeed, it was. 
 
 The Doctor's excellent taste always led him to 
 
4 BEMTNISCENOES. 
 
 keep every part of the Service in harmony ; and 
 psalm, hymn, collect, and, indeed, all, from begin- 
 ning to end, seemed to sound forth from the same 
 key-note. How our beautiful worship would com- 
 mend itself to the admiration of everybody, if all 
 the clergy paid the same attention to such things 
 as he did. 
 
 The Doctor's manner in preaching was quiet, 
 subdued, and dignified ; and, at the same time, 
 most impressive. The hearer always felt that he 
 was learning something, while listening to this 
 man of God. 
 
 On Sunday mornings, after prayers in the chapel, 
 it was Dr. Hale's custom to have a Bible class for 
 an hour before breakfast. The attendance of the 
 students was purely voluntary, but he rendered 
 the exercise so attractive, that many were glad to 
 remain. 
 
 Besides this, during a portion of the year, he de- 
 livered very able courses of lectures to the students, 
 on Sunday afternoon, on the Evidences of Chris- 
 tianity, and the books of holy Scripture. Even 
 at this early period of my acquaintance with him, 
 his health was far from being good, but he man- 
 aged to accomplish as much as those who were more 
 robust. During our Sophomore year, he was obliged 
 to take a trip for rest, which extended to New Or- 
 leans and the West Indies. On his return home, 
 when he appeared again in the Chapel, most of 
 us were struck with the peculiar appropriateness 
 of the chapter which he read, — the second of St. 
 Paul's first Epistle to the Thessalonians. 
 
BEMINISCENCES. 5 
 
 Dr. Hale contributed not a little to the increasing 
 interest in Education, by the Lectures which he 
 delivered in Geneva, and the neighboring towns, 
 several of which were published, and widely cir- 
 culated. He was a most agreeable companion, 
 full of anecdote, and no one could be an hour in 
 his society without feeling well acquainted with 
 him. 
 
 Speaking of his lectures on education reminds 
 me of a little circumstance which he used to re- 
 late in a good-humoured way, as an illustration of 
 this fact ; that a man is much more of a lion when 
 people wish to get something out of him, than he 
 is after that something has been obtained. He had 
 been invited to address a "Young Men's Associa- 
 tion" in a village not far off, and had accepted.. 
 A handsome sleigh drawn by four fine horses was 
 sent to convey the lecturer to the place. When 
 his task was done, (and well done,) he returned to 
 Geneva the next day, in a cutter, with rather a 
 shabby creature to pull it ! 
 
 The Doctor's education was so thorough, and 
 he had his store of learning bo completely at 
 command, that he. could, on the shortest notice, 
 take charge in an emergency, of almost any de- 
 partment in College. One year, when no chemi- 
 cal professor was to be had for the Medical School, 
 he filled the vacancy himself, and that to the satis- 
 faction of all parties concerned. 
 
 I^o one who- knew him need be told that Dr. 
 Hale was a devoted Churchman, — a Churchman 
 
6 BEMINI8CENCE8. 
 
 from principle, from the convictions of sound 
 reason and careful study. 
 
 While I was a student at College, the institu- 
 tion was too much in its infancy to permit the 
 Church system to be as thoroughly carried out as 
 could have beien desired ; but as an evidence of 
 improvement in these respects it may be mention- 
 ed that as early as 1841, on Ash- Wednesday, and 
 other like occasions, those who wished to attend 
 the Church services, were encouraged to do so, by 
 having the opportunity afforded them of reciting 
 the regular lessons of the class at an earlier hour 
 than usual. 
 
 He was a man of great prudence, and knowledge 
 of the world. On the 4th of March, 1841, when 
 General Harrison took his seat as President of this 
 (then) united and prosperous nation, there was a 
 great stir in Geneva, as in other places ; the streets 
 were illuminated at night; a procession was form- 
 ed at the log-cabin, (where so many exciting polit- 
 ical meetings had assembled,) and marched about 
 for some hours, with music and banners ; the cele- 
 bration ending with a good supper at the "Franklin 
 House." — The students had made arrangements 
 to illuminate the College buildings, but Dr. Hale's 
 good sense led him to advise that no such demon- 
 stration should be made., !N"o one anticipated the 
 sad event which within so brief a period was to en- 
 shroud the land in gloom. In the spring of 1841, 
 the Rev. P. P. Irving, the beloved rector of Trini- 
 ty Church, Geneva, issued a pastoral letter, urging 
 his people to set about building a new Church. 
 
BEMimSCENOES. 7 
 
 Dr. Hale was warmly in favor of this measure, and 
 lielped it forward in every way that he could. 
 Having paid a good deal of attention to architect- 
 ure, his advice was often asked, and always to the 
 advantage of those who sought it. The beautiful 
 temple which was reared, in due time, on the site 
 of the old wooden building, is evidence enough 
 that the efforts of Mr. Irving and his friend, the 
 Doctor, were abundantly successful. As an item 
 serving to show the march of improvement in 
 Western !New York, I would mention that the first 
 locomotive came into Geneva, on the rail-road, (then 
 nearly completed from Albany to Buffalo,) on the 
 29th of June, 1841. This increased facility for 
 getting from one part of the country to the other 
 had its effect in brightening the prospects of the 
 College. 
 
 About this time, considerable amusement was 
 afforded to us all by the declamations of the Sopho- 
 more Class one Wednesday afternoon, no speech 
 being made in the English tongue. One was in 
 Italian ; two in French ; one in Latin ; one in Greek ; 
 one in Scotch; one in Spanish; and one in the lan- 
 guage of the Sandwich islanders. 
 
 Dr. Hale smiled at these unusual performances, 
 but remarked with great good humor that he would 
 prefer to have the declamations confined to the lan- 
 guage taught in College; and that the oriental and 
 occidental dialects had better be omitted in future. 
 
 In entering upon our Senior term, in the autumn 
 of the same year, we were brought into close con- 
 tact with Dr. Hale, and the more we saw him, the 
 
8 MEMimSCENCES. 
 
 more we admired and loved him. Our recitations 
 in Butler's Analogy, before breakfast, in the old 
 room then used as the College Library, (and a mere 
 pretence for a library it was,) will be remembered 
 as long as most things. He also delivered interest- 
 ing lectures on Geology, Mineralogy, and Architect- 
 ure, besides presiding at our debates. At the same 
 time, we read Cicero's "De Natura Decorum," when 
 the Doctor, who had shown himself to be familiar 
 with so many branches, gave proofs enough that 
 he was a ripe Latin Scholar. 
 
 Our recitations in Cousin's Psychology were 
 made more interesting by illustrative anecdotes, of 
 which he possessed an inexhaustible store. He 
 one day told us of a Boston sea-captain who was re- 
 lating a story to a friend on the street, and being 
 suddenly broken off in the midst of it, started on a 
 long cruise the next day, and was absent several 
 years. On coming back he happened to meet the 
 same friend, in the same place, and the power of 
 association was so strong, that he forthwith took 
 up the thread of the story where he had left it, re- 
 marking, "As I was sajdng," etc.! 
 
 The Doctor was under the impression that the 
 German story of Casper Hauser is nothing more 
 than a philosophical romance, intended to refute 
 Locke's doctrine that we are born with simple 
 ideas ; whereas, when Casper was first brought to 
 light, from his dark abode, his involuntary excla- 
 mations showed that a host of complex ideas gath- 
 ered in his mind, thus supporting the view taken 
 by Cousin, and others. 
 
BEMINISCENGEa. 9 
 
 During the Advent Season of 1841, Dr. Hale 
 preached a capital sermon, in Trinity Church, 
 Geneva, from the striking text, " This thing was not 
 done in a comer" — (Acts 26 : 26). His ohject was 
 to establish the fact that the origin of Christian- 
 ity, and the events upon which it relies for the 
 support of its claims, were not done secretly. As 
 we hope that this interesting discourse will be pre- 
 sented to the public in this volume, no outline of 
 it will be attempted here. 
 
 The parting with our good friend the Doctor 
 was the saddest trial at the time of our graduation ; 
 but it came to pass, through the ordering of Prov- 
 idence, that we enjoyed much personal intercourse 
 afterwards. Having gone through with the course 
 of study at the General Theological Seminary, 
 Henry Stanley, Charles E. Phelps, and myself 
 were ordained Deacons, by Bishop DeLancey, in 
 Trinity Church, Geneva, on the 20th of July, 1845. 
 Dr. Hale, at our special request, preached the Ser- 
 mon. It was from the well-chosen text, "Make full 
 proof of thy ministry," (2 Tim. 4:5); and we de- 
 sired its publication at the time, but he saw fit to 
 decline. 
 
 Soon after this, the affairs of Trinity Church, 
 Geneva, got into a very unsettled state, during a 
 period of several months when it had no rector, 
 and opinions were much divided as to who should 
 succeed to the office. I was invited to officiate one 
 Sunday, and so kept on, week after week, for the 
 space of about three months ; hoping every day that 
 the vestry would agree upon some clergyman of 
 
10 BEMINISCENCES. 
 
 matare age, and judgment, to assume the care of 
 so important a congregation. It was a delicate and 
 trying position for a newly fledged Deacon, with 
 no experience in the pastoral office, and I shall al- 
 ways remember with gratitude the kindness of Dr. 
 Hale, who generally read a portion of the Service 
 for me ; gave me free access to his choice library ; 
 and was ever ready to afford me the benefit of 
 his safe counsels. Many letters passed between us, 
 during the year which followed, and we met for 
 the last time, (not suspecting that it would be the 
 last,) at the College Commencement, in 1855. 
 
 When I was preparing the Life of Bishop Bass, 
 of Massachusetts, I was anxious to procure a calm, 
 moderate, well-digested statement of the facts con- 
 cerning the loss of King's chapel, Boston, to the 
 Church, and, at my request. Dr. Hale wrote the 
 chapter in that volume detailing this curious his- 
 tory. He declined having his name mentioned in 
 connection with it then, but there is no good rea- 
 son why he should not have credit for it now. 
 
 Dr. Hale's letters, which I always prized, would 
 furnish some interesting extracts, but my reminis- 
 ceiises have alreadj' extended much farther than I 
 had intended, when I began to note them down. 
 I shall only venture upon a few passages from the 
 last, dated September 14, 1861, as expressing a 
 favorable judgment concerning a little book by hia 
 former pupil, vi'hich afforded me no little satisfac- 
 tion, and as containing a devout prayer for the re- 
 turn of better days, to which all good people will 
 gladly respond. Amen. "I have read your Frank- 
 
MEMINI80ENCES. 11 
 
 lin, since I wrote to you. It is the most remark- 
 able book you have written. Franklin's reputa- 
 tion seemed to have gone to the credit of unbelief, 
 but I think you have recovered it, and made him 
 a witness, not a very enthusiastic one, perhaps, for 
 the Church. But the Church gets his vote, the vote 
 of a man of eminent practical judgment; and un- 
 belief, as a system to live by, has no support from 
 him. 
 
 "What awful times are these! and what awful 
 work the ambition of bad men may produce ! We 
 are going through a severe trial, but I cannot but 
 believe we shall come well out of it. I think often 
 of Bishop Butler's remark, that nations as well as 
 individuals may be subject to insanity. May God 
 direct ; bring order out of this confusion ; and re- 
 store us to unity; and may He, too, make us all 
 wiser and more cognizant of Him and His laws, 
 through this chastisement." 
 
 And now, my dear Sir, having no time for re- 
 writing these pages, I must beg you to make allow- 
 ance for the imperfections which you may find in 
 them, and believe me. 
 
 Tours, very truly, 
 
 John N". Norton. 
 
ADDRESSED 
 
 TO THE Alumni, at the Commencement of 
 HoBART College, Geneva, N. Y. 1866. 
 
 BY ANDE5W D. WHITE. 
 
 la commencing his Addi-esa upon "The Cathe- 
 dral Builders and Mediceval Sculptors," Mr. White 
 said : — "For this occasion I had prepared an address 
 upon a subject in general polity — treated mainly 
 historically. But noticing the announcement of 
 exercises for the week, I saw that they were in 
 some measure commemorative of one whom we 
 have all held in veneration, — the late President of 
 this College. 
 
 Tou will pardon me then for presenting a sub 
 ject of a very different kind, — thoughts of which 
 he more than any other planted the germ, — re- 
 searches in a field where he often found relief from 
 the cares and toils of his office, and into which 
 many of us were first led by him — suggestions upon 
 topics which will doubtless bring back to many the 
 lecture-room intercourse with one of the most 
 kindly and genial and able instructors who ever 
 blessed any institution of learning." 
 
 In speaking of Mediaeval ideas in Monumental 
 Architectu reand Sculpture Mr. "White said : — "But 
 
THE PBE8IDENT HALE MEMOMIAL. 13 
 
 to US who have trod these streets as students there 
 is suggestion of duty here. 
 
 Few indeed among graduates of the past quarter 
 of a century can have forgotten him who wore out 
 his life in labors and struggles to lay goodly foun- 
 dations for this College. 
 
 Modest and earnest he added little to the noise of 
 this generation, and he gained little of its thought- 
 less applause. To him many labors — to him few 
 luxuries. He was shrinking and sensitive yet he 
 saw his zeal often misinterpreted and his kindness 
 unappreciated. 
 
 To be laughed at by young dandies, to be scoff- 
 ed at by young snobs, to be nibbled at by callow 
 critics is the ordinary fate of the best instructors, 
 and this fate he shared. 
 
 But now that our boyishness is gone, now that 
 we know something of life, now that we know the 
 rarity and value of a valiant man in struggle, now 
 that we know the rarity and value of an earnest 
 man in effort, — now we know the rarity and value 
 of Benjamin Hale. There be, doubtless, among us 
 those who would honor such a man, if for nothing 
 else, at least to declare what manner of man is 
 worthj' of honor in an age of materialistic ambi- 
 tion. There be those among us, doubtless, who 
 feel that we owe a debt to his memory for good 
 counsel and sound instruction; and perhaps there 
 be those here who would honor him in slight atone- 
 ment for pain given his kind heart, by counsels 
 slighted, by labors increased, by sensibilities rub- 
 bed rudely. 
 
14 THE PBE8WENT HALE MEMORIAL. 
 
 We have in yonder Chapel a shrine breathing 
 the true spirit of that Mediaeval art which our old 
 instructor loved so well. Let us place in it a 
 memorial in some degree worthy of him. Let 
 it be a sermon in stone to express our gratitude 
 and regret. Let it tell the scholastic broods which 
 shall assemble here in years to come, what a noble 
 brain and heart and soul struggled here to wrest 
 from an indifierent generation these scholarly 
 privileges, let it show them that this age does 
 recognize other merits than shrewdness in traffic 
 and skill in chicane, let it declare that he who lights 
 a good fight has applause which endures, let it knit 
 forever into the rich fabric of student life a legend 
 of laboring and waiting, let it sculpture upon the 
 stone of yon Chapel and upon the, 'living stones' 
 therein to be wrought, — the name of BENJAMIN" 
 HALE." 
 
IN MEMORIAM. 
 
 BY THOMAS D. BUKEALL, GENEVA, N. Y. 
 
 Doctor Hale was a truly great and good man ; 
 but it is difficult in a brief sketch to present his 
 character in such a light that a stranger can duly 
 appreciate its worth. 
 
 Its excellence consisted in no one leading trait 
 but in its completeness, and the perfect harmony 
 of its parts. 
 
 His strength was not seen in any brilliant dis- 
 play, or striking exhibition of uncommon talent, 
 but in a constant, persistive course of correct ac- 
 tion from day to day, and year to year, without 
 change, remission or exhaustion, while the deep 
 current of his thoughts flowed on so calmly that * 
 even then, after the lapse of years, it was difficult 
 to realize their force but on close observation. 
 
 There was no show of labor in his movements, 
 and his great acquirements were gradually unfolded 
 without an apparent effort on his part ; but no man 
 capable of appreciating merit could be long with 
 him without becoming conscious that he was in the 
 presence of a strong, self-reliant, well balanced 
 mind, guided and controlled by a pure and upright 
 spirit. 
 
16 IN MEMOBIAM. 
 
 In person, he was of medium height and just 
 proportions ; muscles firmly developed and corded 
 by exercise and active employment; neck short; 
 head large, erect and well set on his shoulders; 
 features good though not handsome, well formed 
 and strongly marked ; eyes hazel inclining to grey, 
 mild and expressive, looking calmly out from their 
 large sockets under a massive projecting front and 
 heavy eyebrows ; forehead square, high and i-eced- 
 ing; complexion fair and ruddy, and his health 
 generally good; * countenance flexible and ani- 
 mated, varying with every change of thought or 
 feeling, and his spirit without guile. He was 
 cheerfal and buoyant, graceful and unaffected, play- 
 ful with children, and in familiar conversation ex- 
 ceedingly pleasing and attractive. He relished wit 
 and humor, but seldom attempted a jest or witticism 
 himself. He never evinced his enjoyment of the 
 wit of others by loud laughter, his face only indi- 
 cating his feelings by lighting up with a brilliant 
 expression showing clearly that he enjoyed it. 
 
 His feelings and passions, though ardent, were 
 wonderfully chastened and controlled, and he seem- 
 ed able at all times to throw aside his cares at will 
 
 * Dr. Hale writes, November 23, 1850. "I am this day 53 
 years old. I begin to take a place among the old men, and in 
 regard to health I have much more to be thankful for than to 
 complain of. Indeed I have nothing to complain of, but to be 
 thankful that whatever weaknesses I am subject to are no worse- 
 I have no recollection of ever in my life passing but one day 
 in bed, and then I might have risen, and risen without assist- 
 ance. I have been exposed to a good deal of wear, and am 
 thankful that so much of me is left." 
 
IN MEMOniAM. 17 
 
 and live only in the present. It was delightful to 
 see him thus, but who on seeing him at such a mo- 
 ment could realize the powers of such a mind ap- 
 parently so unconscious of strength. 
 
 His manners and deportment were always gentle- 
 manly, and in personal habits he was scrupulously 
 neat, his dress always appropriate, and becoming. 
 
 Sedate, composed, and at ease when abroad, not 
 courting attention but affable and accessible to 
 strangers, and withal so natural, unaffected and 
 graceful that a stranger would be at a loss to guess ' 
 his rank or station. His temperament was exceed- 
 ingly genial, kind and amiable, with a fine mellow 
 undertone of quiet, shrewd good humor. Patient 
 and persevering, he possessed an indomitable en- 
 ergj', and a mind ever ready for action. 
 
 He was well grounded in the various parts of a 
 liberal education. As an instructor and guardian 
 of youth he was eminently successful. Mild but 
 firm in his treatment, he won the affections of 
 his pupils by kindness, and governed by influence 
 rather than force. 
 
 His character as a teacher is beautifully portrayed 
 in the graceful language of Cowper. 
 
 "His eye was meek and gentle ; and a smile 
 
 Played on his lips ; and in his speech was heard 
 
 Paternal sweetness, dignity and love. 
 
 The occupation dearest to his heart 
 
 Was to encourage goodness ; Learning grew 
 
 Beneath his care a thriving vigorous plant. 
 
 The mind was well informed, the passions hold 
 
 Subordinate, and diligence was choice. 
 
 If e'er it chanced, as sometimes chance it must, 
 
18 IN MEMOBIAM. 
 
 That one among so many, oyerleap'd 
 The limits of control, his gentle eye 
 Grew stern, and darted a severe rebuke : 
 His frown was full of terror /" 
 
 His genial temper and long experience fitted him 
 admirably to control the wild and wayward impulses 
 of reckless youth. He knew- what was in them, 
 and how to reach them. 
 
 He held the reins of government with a firm 
 hand ; but he knew also when to relax them ; and 
 often by a gentle touch was able to reclaim the 
 wandering, and urge them onward in the path of 
 duty. 
 
 His residence was near the college, and his study 
 in the very focus of observation. He was habitu- 
 ally in the midst of his pupils, the temperament of 
 each became a study, and "a word fitly spoken" 
 often saved them from a fall. 
 
 Public censures were rare during his administra- 
 tion, and the irreclaimably vicious were quietly re- 
 moved to prevent the contagion of ill example. 
 
 An instance of his characteristic tact and for- 
 bearance in matters of personal feeling is still re- 
 membered with pleasure by the writer. Several 
 students had united to get up a literary Periodical 
 humorously styled the ^'•X-pounder" a few numbers 
 only of which were published. One of these con- 
 tained several short Essays, light articles of wit 
 and humor, fresh anecdotes etc., and (inter alia) 
 some remarks upon one of the Professors, with 
 sly allusions to his "Pony," well understood among 
 themselves, and also some hits at ' OW. Prtx" him- 
 
IN MEMOBIAM. 19 
 
 self. This was shown to the Doctor, and thongh 
 it was quite too free in its style, he showed no re- 
 sentment but rather seemed to enjoy it, making at 
 the time only the trite remark that "boys will be 
 boys," and after a moment's reflection and his good- 
 humored quiet laugh, added that he loved to see 
 them let oft" their spare steam in fun and frolic, as 
 it kept them out of more serious mischief. How- 
 ever sensitive, he never lost his equanimity; but 
 whenever rebuke became necessary, his frown was 
 then indeed, truly "full of terror." 
 
 As a public speaker, he was natural, unaffected 
 and earnest in manner and action, distinct and cor- 
 rect in diction and enunciation. As a writer, clear 
 concise and forcible in argument, his language and 
 style simple and graceful, without any affectation 
 of ornament or embellishment beyond what flowed 
 spontaneously from his subject. 
 
 His style of reasoning was so perfect as to con- 
 ceal all art. In opening his subject, he seemed al- 
 ways to begin at the right place, to manage it just 
 as the hearer had expected, and end at the right mo- 
 ment; leaving the impression that the subject how- 
 ever abstruse, had been exhausted, and treated just 
 as the hearer himself would have done it; so seem- 
 ingly clear and easy to be understood did it appear ; 
 and in all that he undertook, there was so little 
 show of labor that it was difficult to realize that he 
 labored at all. 
 
 He was an artist skilled in the various orders of 
 architecture, and the multifarious resources of me- 
 chanical appliances; an accomplished draftsman 
 
20 IN MEMOBIAM. 
 
 «ver ready with his pen and pencil to illustrate hia 
 subject with wonderful accuracy and facility, ever 
 ready to impart knowledge and instruction to young 
 artists without the slightest assumption of superior- 
 ity. 
 
 That noble structure, our glorious Church, stand- 
 ing before us in massive strength, and simple 
 grandeur, (in its chaste severity and just propor- 
 tions a fit emblem of his mind,) bears the impress 
 of his genius, for to the sketches from his pencil 
 and the suggestions of his taste in its construction 
 much of its grace and beauty are owing; and it 
 will constitute for ages an appropriate monument 
 to his memory. 
 
 Of the depth of his researches in exact sciences 
 or mental Philosophy the writer does not attempt to 
 speak ; but after a long and intimate acquaintance, 
 and the most frank and confidential intercourse of 
 more than twenty years he can only say that in at- 
 tempting to sound his depths of knowledge in 
 these abstruse studies, he has never been able to 
 touch bottom with his own short plummet line. 
 Of his versatality and almost universality of 
 talent, of his winning manners, his perfect mas. 
 tery of his prejudices and passions, his patient en- 
 durance and indomitable energy, he can speak 
 more understandingly ; and in these he was truly 
 great. 
 
 As a scholar, a man, and a Christian, he was 
 great, — ^a ripe scholar, a wise man, an earnest Chris- 
 tian, a sound Divine ! 
 
 He had imbibed in early life a deep-seated and 
 
IN MEMOBIAM. 21 
 
 awful reverence for holy things ; for Eeligion, its 
 offices and ordinances ; for the Bible and Prayer 
 Book; the Church, and its altar; and all that per- 
 tains to the worship of God; and was always 
 earnest and exemplary in attendance on its services 
 and duties. 
 
 To close these remarks on the extent of his ac- 
 quirements it may be truly said of him, as was said 
 of Sir Thomas Browne, (more than two centuries 
 since ) "there is no science in which he does not 
 discover some skill, and scarce any kind of knowl- 
 edge, profane or sacred, abstruse or elegant which 
 he does not appear to have studied with success." 
 
 It has been the writer's privilege to have known 
 him intimately ; and when fatigued and exhausted 
 in mind and body by severe labor, or oppressed 
 with the cares and burthens of official duty, he 
 would at times break away from! his study to seek 
 relief to his over-tasked brain, by spending an hour 
 with the writer in the noise and dust of his me- 
 chanical avocations, for relaxation, or as he more 
 correctly expressed it for recreation. 
 
 Often, in these pleasant and familiar reunions, 
 have those around him listened with pleasure and 
 surprise to his suggestions of improved modes of 
 making or doing things that would seem entirely 
 foreign to his studies or pursuits. 
 
 To the workmen in the employment of the writer, 
 from the blacksmith's helper to the finished ma- 
 chinist, he would often impart useful information 
 in the line of their calling, in a manner so clear 
 and plain that they could easily understand it, and 
 
^2 IN MEMOBIAM. 
 
 some of them have after his departure even asked 
 tlie writer if the Doctor had not once been a me- 
 chanic, 80 intimately did he seem acquainted with 
 the terms of art and the minutest details of their 
 several occupations. 
 
 At such times his conversation was always in- 
 structive, and suggestive of improvement. 
 
 No man could more readily apply the abstruse 
 and Bcientifical to the practical and useful, and 
 carry the treasures of exact science from the study 
 and laboratory to the machine shop and factory ! 
 
 In all these visits it was truly refreshing to him 
 to throw off the burden of care arid severe thought, 
 to lay aside his heavy armor and stand at ease, or 
 as an old quaint writer has it, "disport himself" 
 with lighter weapons. 
 
 Many delightful recollections cluster around these 
 impromptu meetings; and many pleasant encounters 
 and sportive contests still arise in dim vision in 
 which the Doctor in the midst of his cares, would 
 for the moment throw them aside, and living in the 
 present seem as lighthearted and happy as a child ; 
 and thus, ever hopeful under discouragements, he 
 continued to labor on from year to year, over- 
 burdened with official cares and duties. His spirit 
 was trustful and buoyant and under the control of 
 a strong will and manly heart. He encountered 
 difficulties and discouragements under which many 
 a stout heart and strong arm would have soon gone 
 down ; and ihey proved too great for him at last ! 
 
 In all these years the writer was frequently with 
 him and shared his confidence, and although he of- 
 
IN MEMOMIAM. 23 
 
 ten spoke with deep feeling and earnest expressions 
 of pain and grief, he was never heard to utter re- 
 proach or unkind words against any who had given 
 him cause to complain. 
 
 Few then knew the desperate condition of the 
 College, the amount of labor required in its man- 
 agement, or the patient fortitude and endurance 
 with which he encountered it. 
 
 He was a good manager and the burthen was 
 mostly laid upon his shoulders. The college was 
 often without funds and he was compelled at times 
 not only to forego the receipt of his own inadequate 
 salary but also to make advances from his private 
 funds from time to time to sustain it. 
 
 When unsupported in his measures, as he some- 
 times felt that he was, by those to whom he looked 
 for support, or censured by others who misunder- 
 stood his views, or were opposed to them, he had 
 too much self-respect and self-control to retort or 
 complain ; but he felt it deeply. 
 
 The truth is, he never was thoroughly known, 
 and appreciated at his true value by many during 
 his long residence in Geneva; and this is said with- 
 out imputing blame to others. It arose in a meas- 
 ure from the character of the man and the office 
 he held. 
 
 Purely unselfish and intent only on doing good, 
 in all that pertains to duty he depended less on 
 others than himself. Although frank and commu- 
 nicative to those who sought his confidence, he 
 never pressed his views upon the notice of others 
 by any urgent importunity; but the chief reason 
 
24 IN MEMOBIAM. 
 
 why he was not generally understood was that he 
 had far higher aims in regard to the College than 
 most of those around him. He regarded it as a 
 religious as well as a literary Institution, a correlative 
 of the Church, having high and holy claims above 
 all personal interests, or even its interests as a seat 
 of merely secular learning; for the well ordering 
 of which were required wise laws and ordinances 
 to insure its usefulness, and for the due administra- 
 tion of which laws they should be well understood. 
 This knowledge he possessed in an eminent degree. 
 His mind was deeply imbued with the theory and 
 practice of literary and religious instruction ; 
 it reflects no reproach or dishonor on others to 
 say that in this respect he stood alone ! 
 
 liis friends in the Board of Trustees did not un- 
 derstand him. He viewed his office as a sacred 
 trust committed to his hands ; and the fidelity with 
 which he discharged it is found in the fact that un- 
 der his administration more of the pupils in pro- 
 portion to numbers devoted their services to the 
 ministry of the Church than in any other college. 
 
 To carry out these views under the circumstances 
 in which he was placed, was a delicate and difficult 
 task. The Board of Trustees was composed of dis- 
 cordant materials. The Charter required an Epis- 
 copal government. Many of the trustees first named 
 in the charter did not belong to the Church, and 
 these members watched every movement with sus- 
 picion and jealousy. The funds were in great con- 
 fusion and mostly unavailable. In the plan adopt- 
 ed for procuring them, they were subjected to 
 
IN MEMORIAM. 25 
 
 conditiona that greatly embarrassed them, and 
 lessened their value. The purpose of the College 
 government was misrepresented and thwarted, the 
 confidence of our friends abroad was shaken, and 
 enemies were raised up in our midst. 
 
 To stem this torrent of opposition required united 
 action, while the house was divided against itself ! 
 
 So powerful was this opposition at one time, 
 that on application from interested parties to pur- 
 chase the college buildings to convert them to other 
 uses, a resolution for that purpose came before the 
 Board awA failed to pass by one vote only ! 
 
 The Doctor comprehended the difiiculties of his 
 position and was equal to the emergency ; but he 
 stood almost alone in a clear perception of the path 
 of duty and safety ; and hence, at times, his friends 
 failed to come to his aid when he needed them 
 most, not from the want of good will, but from want 
 of apprehension of the dangers that surrounded 
 them. 
 
 Hence too in the Board of Trustees his measures 
 were often opposed and defeated ; while none knew 
 the deep solicitude with which he presented them. 
 He always stated them fairly and advocated them 
 earnestly on their merits, but never insisted on 
 them as rights in respect to his position or person- 
 al regard ; and the writer, who knew his views and 
 wishes and his entire unselfishness in all his meas- 
 ures, has frequently marked his deep sense of pain 
 and disappointment, when his friends failed to sec- 
 ond his movements or to appreciate their import- 
 ance. 
 
26 IN MEMOBIAM. 
 
 From this brief statement it is easy to conceive 
 what a load of care and responsibility devolved up- 
 on him in assuming the Presidential chair. 
 
 Few men of his worth and consideration could 
 have been found at the time with courage to accept 
 it. Nothing aside from a sense of duty could have 
 formed a consideration for assuming its cares and 
 responsibilities; and in view of the difficulties and 
 dangers through which the college struggled in its 
 infancy, it would seem that, under God, the clear 
 head, strong will and stout heart of that great and 
 good man turned the scale in its favor and saved 
 the Institution ! no wonder, then, that he was not 
 understood and duly appreciated by those around 
 him. * Ever patient and persevering, hopeful, 
 trustful and uncomplaining, none who witnessed his 
 quiet movements among his friends in his daily 
 round of duties from day to day, his pleasant words 
 and cheerful smiles, could realize the weight of 
 cares and duties that pressed upon him so heavily, 
 and finally broke him down ; destroyed his health and 
 compelled him reluctantly to resign his charge to 
 other hands. After having by his own self-sacrifice 
 brought order out of confusion, established a wise 
 discipline in College ; and secured in its favor the 
 entire confidence of the public in its permanent 
 prosperity. 
 
 * This refers of course to the earlier period of the College 
 history. Dr. Hale's letter of resignation, and the Resolutions 
 of the Board of Trustees (q. v.), sufficiently show the strong 
 reciprocal confidence which had grown up and then existed 
 between himseli and that body. 
 
IN MEMOBIAM. 27 
 
 Thus far the writer has endeavored to delineate his 
 character as a public functionary, a religious mis- 
 sionary ; but he has seen and known him also inti- 
 mately in private life, in his daily walk and conver- 
 sation for many years, in joy and grief, and in times 
 of great mental excitement. He was naturally 
 quick and sensitive, but during all these trials his 
 course was always correct and blameless. No sud- 
 den impulse of passion betrayed him into indiscre- 
 tion. In his most unguarded moments, no violent 
 language escaped him. In the memory of the past 
 not the trace of an ungenerous act or an unkind 
 word, not an idle jest or indelicate expression is 
 found in the memory of the writer. Not a senti- 
 ment of feeling that could give pain to the loving 
 heart of a Christian mother. 
 
 His self-control was wonderful. The writer was 
 with him during the last sickness of a much loved 
 daughter, a fine, interesting girl of some ten or 
 eleven years of age, highly talented beyond her 
 years and carefully trained under his own eye. 
 While on her death bed in an upper chamber, with- 
 out the slightest hope of recovery, her light of life 
 was gently fading away and her feeble pulse slowly 
 retreating to its citadel, he continued to walk the 
 room below in apparent tranquility. Listening at 
 intervals, to catch every faint sound from above, he 
 frequently visited her room. On his return he 
 would resume his conversation, seemingly calm 
 and composed, on subjects interesting in themselves 
 but entirely foreign to the intense agony that was 
 pressing so heavily on his heart. And when at 
 
28 /JV MEMOBIAM. 
 
 length her pure spirit passed away, after a some- 
 what longer stay at her bedside than before he 
 returned quietly, and in a subdued and even tone 
 simply said, "it is over, she is at rest I" without far- 
 ther comment. 
 
 A more resigned, composed and chastened sub- 
 mission to his Father's will was never witnessed.* 
 
 On a different occasion, the writer found him 
 with an expression of deep anxiety in his counte- 
 nance which he well understood although it might 
 have been unnoticed by a stranger; and ou learn- 
 ing the cause, a short ride was proposed as a tem- 
 porary relief. The offer was accepted, and during 
 the ride he continued to converse on other subjects 
 without once alluding to his own trouble, while 
 large drops of perspiration were standing on his 
 forehead without any consciousness of the fact on 
 his part; his features seemed quiet and composed, 
 but as fixed and rigid as if bound by strong cords 
 within. 
 
 * In a letter of Dr. Hale's, dated December, 1841, he -WTltes : 
 "This, the 28th, is the anniversary of Mary's death. Three 
 years ago we closed her eyes, and surrendered her to God, — as 
 promising a child as any I have ever known, — a precious gift, 
 which the Giver has seen fit to recall, — ^for the enjoyment of 
 which, so long as we had her, we thank Him ; as well for the 
 blessed assurance we have that when He removed her from us 
 He took her to Himself. Our two children who are gone from 
 our care to the nearer presence of God, — and our other friends 
 departed, seem to connect us more closely with the unseen 
 world. Some of our treasures are there ; may our hearts be 
 altogether there." 
 
 Dr. Hale's sagacious appreciation of the yoimg is shown 
 in a letter dated February, 20, 1839. "I am inclined to believe 
 
IN MEMOBIAM. 29 
 
 No face could be more expressive of fine feeling 
 when at ease, and when on duty, none more firm 
 and impassable. 
 
 Many instances of his sprightly and graceful ex- 
 pressions, even in his darkest days above described, 
 occur to the writer, but the calm, peaceful ray of 
 sunlight which they shed around him cannot be 
 conveyed to others. These, though at times on in- 
 different subjects or of little moment, fling a warm 
 glow over the recollections of the past as they rise 
 in dim perspective, but cannot be so far recalled 
 or expressed as to give a true presentment of the 
 man. 
 
 On one occasion, when the writer, in reply to an 
 expression of annoyance and trouble given by a 
 dull pupil, told him that to compensate for this, 
 his employment, though laborious, was a high and 
 
 that such cases as this, in regard to religious character, are 
 more common than I once thought — a religious character 
 which friends hardly suspect, and which perhaps it is as well 
 that they should not. We should be apt to flatter a pious child 
 Into sell-conceit, if we had a high opiniou of its piety ; whereas 
 in a well ordered Christian household, where religious instruc- 
 tion was daily given, piety might grow unobserved, and unos- 
 tentatious, into great depth and sincerity. We are now satisfied 
 that long before her death our Alice possessed genuine religious 
 afiections. And I am satisfied that her pious affections grew 
 as safely without our knowledge as with. These pious afiec- 
 tions want nourishment, which they find in the worship and 
 instruction of a religious family, in hymns, in religious reading, 
 and in the invisible and not entirely self-conscious intercourse 
 of the mind vrtth its Maker. They get encouragement in the 
 example of piety. But we could hardly talk to children as 
 pious, without begetting in them an opinion of their piety, of 
 their being better than others, which would be almost ruinous." 
 
30 IN MEMOBIAM. 
 
 honorable one ; his reply was, yes, but yours the 
 most desirable, your work when finished in wood 
 or iron remains fixed ; but the work I do to-day has 
 to be all done over again to-morrow, "it won't stay 
 fixed like yours." 
 
 And onoe again while on a brief visit to mutual 
 friends, on the border of Crooked Lake, we were, 
 one pleasant morning, by ourselves on the beach, 
 and the Doctor, who had been recently ill, was as 
 light-hearted and happy as a child; running and 
 jumping on the hard sand and gravel, and throw- 
 ing stones into the water and watching their course 
 in high glee; when the writer remarked that he 
 was glad to see that wise men could sometimes lay 
 aside their gravity and play the boy like himself. 
 He replied quickly with his cheerful look, "do you 
 remember reading of the two Grecian philosophers 
 who were one day engaged in skipping or as we 
 Yankees say 'skittering' stones on the water of the 
 Adriatic, when one of them called suddenly to the 
 Other, hush ! there is a fool coming, he must not see 
 us, or he will think us as great fools as himself." 
 
 The philosopher was right, and so was the Doc- 
 tor; the world is ever ready to cry out against a 
 great and good man on seeing him unbend for a 
 moment as a relief from severe thought, and seek 
 recreation in innocent amusements and graceful 
 sports ; but when mind and body have been over- 
 wrought by continuous mental tension, "desipere 
 in loco" as a restorative becomes not merely a 
 privilege but a duty. 
 
 Addison somewhere remarks that in these things 
 
IN MEMOBIAM. 31 
 
 there is after all no such great difference between 
 the wise man and the fool ; only in that the wise 
 man conceals his folly while the fool betrays his ! 
 
 In conclusion. Other facts and incidents inter, 
 esting to the personal friends of the deceased might 
 be called up perhaps from the past, but those al- 
 ready presented are shown in a light so faint as to 
 do injustice to the subject; and the sketch so im- 
 perfectly drawn falls so far short of the writer's 
 aim that it fails to satisfy him, and serves only to 
 remind him that he should lay aside his pen. 
 
 Many reminiscences of the past, "pleasant and 
 mournful to the soul," spring up before him as he 
 writes, but they are only the dim visions of other 
 years ; the "dissolving views" of scenes long gone 
 by, the faint pencillings of memory on the dull and 
 fading tablets of old age. 
 
 But what is written has been the labor of love, 
 and although it may fail to satisfy the just expecta- 
 tions of the friends of the deceased, it has been a 
 source of subdued pleasure to the writer. As we 
 advance in years the mind dwells more fondly on 
 the past and the memory of a great and good man 
 is always not only pleasing in the retrospect, but it 
 sheds also a warm and cheering ray of sunlight on 
 the grave. 
 
 "Sure, the last end of the good man ii peace. 
 Night dews fall not more gently to the ground, 
 Kor weary worn out winds expire so soft." 
 
 Sic a lahoribus requievit et in pacem intravit. 
 
 Senex. 
 
EDITOR'S NOTE. 
 
 These three able and interestmg Monographs precedmg 
 could not have been wrought into the body of this Memoir 
 without marring their unity. They convey their own charac- 
 teristic lessons, and fully vindicate their right to be entered 
 here without omission of any portion. Two of the writers, the 
 Rev. John N. Norton, D. D., then Rector of the Church of the 
 Ascension, Frankfort, Ky., and Thomas D. Burrall, Esq., of 
 Geneva, N. Y., have departed to their rest. Andrew D. 
 White, LL.D., is now the able President of Cornell University. 
 Ithaca, N. Y. 
 
SERMON L 
 
 lEirE HAPPINESS FOUND ONLY IN TRUE RELIGION. 
 Psalm iv. 6. " There be many that sat, "Who 
 
 WILL SHEW us ANT GOOD ? LoRD, LIFT ThOU UP THE 
 
 LIGHT OF Thy countenance upon us." 
 
 It is true now as in the days of the Psalmist, 
 that there be' many that say, " Who will shew us 
 any good ?" The search for happiness is universal. 
 It springs from a demand of the sentient nature. 
 We cannot but prefer agreeable sensations to pain ; 
 ease to wearisome toil; and comfortable circum- 
 stances to anxiety and corroding care. But the 
 spirit of man is seldom satisfied with the good it 
 has in possession, and I suppose we may admit 
 that it seldom has reason to be satisfied. The good 
 we have is seldom perfect, even in its kind, and its 
 kind may be such as not to be capable of satisfy- 
 ing all our longings. There are depths in the hu- 
 man soul, which cannot be filled with the visible 
 or the tangible. There are depths into the recesses 
 of which no mortal light can shine, and which no 
 material plummet can sound. Till they are reach- 
 ed, they must create a craving for something be- 
 yond our present attainments, and the cry must 
 come up, " Who will shew us any good ?" Philoso- 
 phy has tried to answer it, and has discoursed of 
 
34 8EBM0N I. 
 
 the chief good, and her discordant professors have 
 sought it, some in a life of regulated pleasure, 
 some in the cultivation of a stoic insensibility and 
 contempt of every thing which could prove a source 
 of disappointment, others in the diyersion of the 
 mind by the cultivation of science. But Philoso- 
 phy has left the problem where she found it, and 
 men seek practically for the good they covet, as 
 caprice or inclination directs. Failing in one direc- 
 tion, they pursue it in another. The inhabitant of 
 the valley thinks he sees the beautiful bow of heav- 
 en bending itself to embrace his neighbor upon the 
 hill, and to the inhabitant of the hill it seems to be 
 resting over the succeeding valley. Every one 
 feels the inconveniences of his own position and 
 imagines others to be free from them. The labor- 
 or wishes for rest, and the sluggard that he had 
 energy enough for work. The undistinguished 
 sighs for fame, and he who has it more than half 
 desires to withdraw from the public gaze, and pass 
 his days in peace. Happiness is sought from every 
 source, but flies from the pursuer ; and after he has 
 heard wealth say, " It is not in me," and honor, 
 "It is not in me," and power, "It is not in me," and 
 PLEASURE, " It is not in me," he still cries," Who will 
 shew us any good ?" Let him listen to the Oracle 
 of God, and unite in the prayer of the Psalmist, 
 " Lord lift Thou up the light of Thy countenance 
 upon us." True happiness may be found in the favor 
 of God. The soul can find in Him infinite repose, 
 and satisfaction for its deepest cravings. He does 
 not withhold the most intimate communion from 
 
TR UE SAPPINES8 IN TR UE RELIGION. 35 
 
 the heart that seeks Him. " If a man love Me," 
 said our blessed Saviour, " he will keep My words ; 
 and My Father will love him, and "We will come 
 unto him, and make Our abode vdth him." 
 And again, He saith by His messenger to 
 the Churches, " Behold, I stand at the door, and 
 knock; If any man hear My voice, and open the 
 door, I will come in to him, and will sup w:ith him, 
 and he with Me." In God, "We live, and move, 
 and have our being." No distance separates us 
 from Him. It is only the aversion of our hearts, 
 that renders us unconscious of His presence. If 
 we turn to Him, we shall see the light of His coun- 
 tenance. If we open our hearts to receive this 
 light, it will shine into their inmost depths. 
 
 There is however a sad discrepancy between 
 what is promised in the Holy Gospel of peace and 
 joy to the believer, and what we see in fact among 
 those who profess and call themselves Christians. 
 Too many, perhaps the great part, seem, notwith-' 
 standing their heritage in God, to be looking to the' 
 world and its promises for their enjoyment. I 
 would not say that they should neglect their work 
 in this world. It is their duty to God, to do what 
 He has appointed them to do, and to act well and 
 earnestly the part He has assigned them, but to go 
 beyond this, to look to created things for their hap- 
 piness, to make them their chief end, and to give 
 to Him only the sad thoughts, which are forced 
 from them by trial's and disappointments, is the 
 part of unbelief — it is adhering to ^asible things, 
 which always deceive us — living by sight, rather 
 
36 SERMON I. 
 
 than by faith in the unseen, in God, His presence, 
 and His promises. 
 
 "So argument against religion then, as solving 
 the great problem, can be derived from the fact 
 that those who call themselves Christians are often 
 as restless and discontented as others. They are 
 Christians but in part. If they have faith, they have 
 also much remaining unbelief. They do not pur- 
 sue their religious duties and cultivate religious 
 affections, and seek after holiness, with all their 
 hearts, or with that singleness and energy of pur- 
 pose with which they pursue their cherished plans 
 in this world. If they would have the happiness 
 of communing with God they must seek commun- 
 ion with Him. If they would have joy and peace 
 in believing, they must believe, not transiently, 
 but with a steadfast faith, a living and an earnest 
 one. If they would test the power of Religion, they 
 must make proof of it by a religious life, the cul- 
 tivation of Christian affection, the performance of 
 Christian duties. ]S"o more in religion than in any 
 thing else are we to expect ends without means, 
 and we have never tried an experiment fairly, till 
 we have tried it fully. Men have tried the world 
 fully. They have given themselves recklessly to 
 pleasure. They have sold themselves body and 
 soul to the service of mammon. They have sacri- 
 ficed honor, and conscience, and regard either for 
 God or man, to political ambition. The experi- 
 ment in all these cases has been made fully. IsTo 
 conflicting element has been allowed to spoil the 
 result. But, who gives himself as unreservedly to 
 
TRUE HAPPINESS IN TRUE RELIGION. 37 
 
 the service of God? who allows himself never to be 
 diverted from it by ambition, or to make compro- 
 mises with gain or pleasure ? who uses the world 
 religiously, and mates all it has of good to min- 
 ister to grace? He is entitled to speak from ex- 
 perience, and never, since the world began, has such 
 an one sung a melody over departed hopes. That 
 there is peace and joy in believing, that there is 
 happiness in a religious life, full and satisfying, is 
 the testimony of every man who has tried it. 
 
 But let us look at the subject more closely. Let 
 ua recall to mind those Affections and those Duties 
 which religion requires of us, and we cannot fail 
 to see that they are, by the very constitution of our 
 natures, calculated to promote our happiness. 
 
 I. That affection of the mind which appears to be 
 most eminently Christian is love ; or, as it is often 
 called. Charity — a benevolent temper, which re- 
 joices with those who rejoice, which delights in wit- 
 nessing and communicating happiness. Our Sav- 
 iour, in those interesting conversations which He 
 had with his disciples just before His death, and 
 which are recorded for our comfort and edification 
 by St. John, gave His disciples what He was pleas- 
 ed to call a new commandment. " A new com- 
 mandment give I unto you, that ye love one an- 
 other, as I have loved you, that ye also love one 
 another." It was a new commandment if we com- 
 pare it with anything there was in the maxims or 
 the spirit of the old Paganisms, or even with the 
 retaliations which were permitted under the Mosaic 
 Law. It marked the spirit of the new Era, of the 
 
38 8EBM0N I. 
 
 last and most perfect dispensation of God's grace 
 and mercy to fallen man. Hear the Apostle to 
 the Gentiles. " Love," said he to the Romans, " is 
 the fulfilling of the Law," and to Timothy, he says 
 that, " Charity is the end of the commandment." 
 And listen to the testimony of the disciple whom 
 Jesus loved, and loved undoubtedly because he was 
 so like Himself in this heavenly Charity. He had 
 recorded in his Gospel the affectionate exhorta- 
 tions of our Saviour to His disciples, as He was 
 about to leave them, and in His own Epistles, He 
 is full of the same sentiments and the same exhor- 
 tations to those who were about to lose in him the 
 last of the Apostles. " Beloved," says he, " Let 
 us love one another : for love is of God; and every 
 one that loveth is born of God, and knoweth God. 
 He that loveth not knoweth iiot.GoD, for God is 
 love. In this was manifested the love of God 
 toward us, because that God sent His only begot- 
 ten Son into the world, that we might live through 
 Him. Beloved, if God so loved us, we ought also 
 to love one another." And in this strain of exhor- 
 tation to mutual charity, he goes on to the end of 
 his Epistle. 
 
 Need I prove to you that the possession of this 
 heavenly temper of Charity is happiness ? St. John 
 takes it for granted. " Perfect love," saith he, 
 " casteth out fear, because fear hath torment." 
 Can any one be unhappy, when his heart is glow- 
 ing with warm affection? Is there not happiness 
 connected with the very feeling of good-will, the 
 mere passive exercise of that Charity, which bear- 
 
TRUE SAPPINES8 IN TRUE RELIGION. 39 
 
 eth, believeth and liopeth all things, which rejoices 
 with those who rejoice," and weeps with those who 
 weep? And, on the other hand, where Charity is 
 wanting, and its seat in the heart is usurped by 
 Envy and Hatred and Jealousy and Malice and 
 tJncharitableuess, which bear, believe and hope 
 nothing — ^which turn from those who rejoice, and 
 look vdth a selfish satisfaction on those who weep, 
 —is there any happiness ? 
 
 But Charity is not a mere passive principle. It 
 puts itself forth in acts of kindness. It seeks to 
 promote the comfort and the good of others, and 
 it is in this exercise of it, that it becomes the source 
 of unbounded happiness to its possessor. Who 
 that is not colder than the clay of which he was 
 moulded, does not partake in the happiness that 
 he gives — does not feel that the sacrifice that he 
 makes to relieve the wants, to soothe the distresses, 
 to raise the hopes of others, is repaid him with 
 usury by the joy of his own heart ? 
 
 It is in a great measure, my brethren, by imita- 
 ting the perfections of God, that we are made par- 
 takers of His happiness. But how shall we do it ? 
 We cannot imitate His wisdom nor His power, nor 
 His majesty ; but we may His benevolence. We 
 may loVe our enemies, bless them that curse us, do 
 good to them that hate Us, and pray for them that 
 despitefdlly Use Us, and persecute us, and thus, as 
 our Saviour tells us, we shall be the children of 
 our Father, which is in Heaven, for He maketh 
 His sun to rise on the evil and oh the good, and 
 sendrth rain on the just and on the unjust. 
 
40 SERMON I. 
 
 I have hitherto spoken of Christian Chantj as 
 a source of happiness, so far as it has regard to our 
 fellow-men ; but as it kindles into love to God, our 
 heavenly Father, our Creator and our Redeemer, 
 it is a source of happiness still more exalted. God 
 is love, and as benevolence in man awakens 
 towards Him similar emotions in our own bosoms, 
 so in the heart of the Christian, the infinite good- 
 ness of God, shining through all His works, and 
 especially in His living word, awakens the most 
 ardent love. And if this affection affords such 
 happiness when man is its object, how much more 
 when God. In Him there is no imperfection to 
 check the current of our feelings. We have no 
 occasion for reserve, for He is worthy to be loved,' 
 as He claims to be, and as He graciously allows 
 Himself to be, with all the heart and with all the 
 soul. We cannot move but blessings meet us at 
 every step, and the devout man will feel that he 
 can never render Him equal thanksgiving. Love 
 to God also gives us confidence towards Him: for 
 perfect love, as St. John saith, casteth out fear. 
 It gives the soul rest in God, and is the avenue to 
 that peace which passeth all understanding. And 
 this leads us to 
 
 n. Another source of the happiness of the 
 Christian, viz. that lively hope to which he is be- 
 gotten by the mission and death of our blessed 
 Saviour. This hope entereth into that within the 
 vail ; it takes hold of eternal life ; it embraces 
 those unutterable blessings, which eye hath not 
 seen, nor the heart of man conceived, but which 
 God hath prepared for them that love Him. 
 
TRUE HAPPINESS IN TRUE RELIGION 41 
 
 I need not waste time in shewing you how such 
 a hope can give happiness to its possessor. If 
 kept in lively and vigorous exercise, if it be not ex- 
 tinguished by disobedience and sin, if no forget- 
 fulness of God nor negligence in His service be al- 
 lowed to abate its fervor, it has power to give the 
 most substantial happiness under the heaviest trials. 
 
 What is the source of most of our enjoyments in 
 the present world ? Is it in possession of good ? 
 Are we satisfied with what we have attained ? Are 
 we not rather looldng to the good which is still fu- 
 ture ; and if present attainments afford us gratifi- 
 cation, is it not the gratification of the traveler 
 who does not undervalue the comforts of a good 
 resting place from the fatigues of his journey, 
 though his happiness is, mainly fixed in the hope of 
 accomplishing successfully the object of his toil? 
 If it is from hope that so much of the happiness of 
 
 all men is derived, how much more shall it affbrd 
 ' / _ 
 
 the Christian, who looks forward to possessions and 
 a life more glorious than he can conceive and as- 
 sured to him by the promises of God. 
 
 And what is the Christian's hope ? Is it such as 
 poets have dreamed of and imposters have promis- 
 ed to their followers, a place of unlimited indul- 
 gence ? He hopes for no such thing, but for the 
 unlimited perfection of his nature, for a place 
 where he may see God and be like Him in unspot- 
 ted holiness. His greatest calamity here is his sin. 
 In the mansions prepared for him by his Saviour, 
 and which he hopes to inherit after this mortal life 
 is ended, sin shall be no more. Here he is con- 
 
42 SEBMON I. 
 
 tending with evil passions and finds them arising 
 again like Hydra's heads, after he had supposed 
 them subdued, and he has no rest from his warfare. 
 But they shall be buried with him in his grave, 
 and there shall he leave them, when he himself 
 shall rise and put on immortality. Here he is ex- 
 posed to temptation. In heaven it cannot approach 
 him. Here his eye ' is pained with sights of evil, 
 his ear vsdth blasphemy and profaneness. There 
 shall he see nothing but good, and shall hear the 
 songs of Angels and the anthems of the just made 
 perfect. There shall he see no deeds of violence or 
 of oppression — he shall hear no rumors of unsuc- 
 cessful or successful wars. There shall he suffer 
 no more from his earthliness, when he would raise 
 his thoughts to holy meditation ; he will breathe 
 another atmosphere, every thing will conspire with 
 the willingness of his spirit, and he will serve God 
 (what he in vain essayed on earth), with all his 
 might and mind and strength. 
 
 And this Hope is confirmed to the faithful Chris- 
 tian by every circumstance of the life and death of 
 Him who purchased it ; by His Miracles and His 
 Works of Love, by His Agony and Bloody Sweat, 
 by His Cross and Passion, by His Death, Resur- 
 rection and Ascension. What wonder if Chris- 
 tians have rested upon it so securely, and have 
 been suppoi'ted by it in their hours of sharp afflic- 
 tion. What wonder if the Martyr has sung at the 
 stake. What wonder, if with St. Paul, every faith- 
 ful soul can say, " In all things we are more than 
 conf][uerors, through Him that loved us." 
 
TRUE HAIPINESS IN TRVE RELIGION. 4S 
 
 m. But, again, the Christian finds happiness in 
 keeping all the Commandments of God. 
 
 For thus he keeps a pure Conscience. And how 
 much of the misery of life comes from the accu- 
 sations of this inward monitor. "Who finds unal- 
 loyed satisfaction in the acquisition of wealth or 
 any of the ohjeets of human desire or ambition, if 
 he has obtained it by disreputable means ; if con- 
 science oblige him to fix upon himself a reproach 
 which an ingenuous man would not lightly cast up- 
 on his neighbor ; to look upon himself as a mark 
 for the finger of scorn. There is an inherent bit- 
 terness in the fruit of every tree of which God has 
 forbidden us to eat. On the other hand, there is 
 a reward in keeping the commands of God, inhe- 
 rent and distinct from any promise to be fulfilled 
 hereafter. There is a beauty in Holiness, in Truth 
 and Justice and Purity and Charity, a beauty be- 
 yond all other, a beauty the mere shadow of which, 
 resting upon external nature, gives it its highest 
 perfection ; and the joy of a good conscience comes 
 not so much from a sense of security from threat- 
 ened danger, as from the consciousness of the pres- 
 ence and growth, in feebleness it may be, of these 
 lineaments of moral beauty. 
 
 There are many commands of God, which to our 
 corrupt natures seem grievous, but they are all 
 intended for our good, and are in themselves cal- 
 culated to advance our happiness. . The dispositions 
 which He enjoins are those which make heaven 
 what it is, and which if they could prevail in all 
 their fulness and power in this world, would bring 
 
44 SERMON I. 
 
 back again the happiness of Paradise. The Chris- 
 tian, then, is happy so far as he can grow in these 
 holy dispositions; and it is the chief part of the 
 alloy, which is mingled with his happiness, that 
 he cannot entirely root out that evil temper and 
 those evil inclinations which he inherits as a son 
 of Adam. 
 
 The Christian's progress in this world is an edu- 
 cation, a growing up lor heaven. Here the seed is 
 sown, and germinates, and grows, and puts forth its 
 foliage and its blossoms ; and then it is transplanted 
 to a better world to bring its fruit to perfection. 
 But even here it has a fragrance and a beauty 
 which distinguish it from the plants native to this 
 corrupted earth. So true is it, that Godliness is 
 profitable unto all things, having the promise of 
 the life that now is, as well as of that which is to 
 come. 
 
 It would be easy to go on and to trace out in 
 greater detail the sources of the Christian's happi- 
 ness, but enough has been said to shew these two 
 things — That true piety is in the very nature of 
 things a source of the most exalted happiness : 
 And why it is that among those who call them- 
 selves Christians there is not more of it. 
 
 1st. I need not retrace the remarks I have 
 already made, to shew that Religion is a source of 
 the most exalted happiness ; and you need only to 
 compare it with the pleasures of this world to see 
 the unutterable folly of those who satisfy them- 
 selves with the good things of this life and forget 
 the life to come — who weary themselves in the 
 
TB UE HAPPINESS IN TB UE BELIQION. 45 
 
 pursuit of riches that cannot profit, and neglect to 
 lay up treasures in heaven — who open their hearts 
 to the love of the world, its follies and frivolities, 
 its passions and its cares, but not to God. 
 
 Can all the pleasures of the world heal the wounds 
 of a guilty Conscience ? Can the wealth of both 
 the Indias purchase a ray of hope to cheer us when 
 death is gathering around us its heavy shadows ? 
 What earthly enjoyment is there of which we may 
 not surfeit ? The sources of mere earthly happi- 
 ness were not designed for immortality, they per- 
 ish with earthlj' things, they die to us when our 
 connection with earth ceases. But the soul lives 
 on. Its capacities are not diminished. Its crav- 
 ings are not abated. Its passions and affections, 
 untrained to rest themselves in God, and to find 
 satisfaction in His infinite fulness, add their rest- 
 less longings to the gnawings of the worm that 
 never dies. 
 
 True wisdom consists in choosing the best ends, 
 as well as in pursuing them by the best means, and 
 what can excuse the folly of erring in the ends, 
 when the highest good of which man is capable, in 
 this world or in the next, is plainly set before him 
 by reason and by the word of God. There needs 
 not half the wit to ascertain the highest and no- 
 blest object of pursuit, that is often necessary to get 
 possession of some of the veriest baubles by which 
 man is dazzled and misled. Heaven is offered to 
 us, but we have no ears for anything which does 
 not concern our farms or our merchandize. It is 
 urged upon us, but we turn away to pursue those 
 
46 SERMON I. 
 
 pleasures, whicli not only the sure word of God but 
 the experience of all past ages have declared to be 
 vanity and vexation of spirit. God offers us His 
 love. He stands at the door of our hearts and 
 knocks for admission, that He may come in and 
 dwell with us, but we close them against Him, and 
 turn to the beggarly elements of the world. 
 
 But, 2d., it is manifest that it is vain for those 
 who call themselves Christians, to hope for that 
 happiness which is the fruit of Religion, unless they 
 diligently cultivate Christian affections and diligent- 
 ly practice every Christian duty. The true happi- 
 ness of the Christian is the happiness of loving 
 God and keeping His commandments. It is the 
 happiness of Faith and Hope and Charity in their 
 fullest and holiest exercise. It is the happiness of 
 being and doing good. It has been connected, by 
 God himself, and in simple accordance with the 
 laws of moral being, with the Affections and Duties 
 of the Christian life ; and it would be as rational to 
 hope for grapes of thorns, or tigs of thistles, as for 
 religious happiness in any other way than a life of 
 hearty devotion to God and His service ; — a life of 
 fervent piety and ardent zeal ; a life of diligence, 
 circumspection and self-denial ; a life spent in cul- 
 tivating on earth the temper and the character 
 which form the basis, as well as the condition, of 
 that most perfect felicity which awaits the Re- 
 deemed in Heaven. 
 
SERMOK II. 
 
 SOBEB-MINDEDNESS IN YOUNG MEN. 
 
 TiTtJS ii. 6. "Young men likewise exhcrt to 
 
 BE sober-minded." 
 
 St. Paul, in one of his journeys of whicli we have 
 no particular account in the New Testament, pass- 
 ed through Crete. How long he remained there 
 we know not, but at his departure he left Titus 
 with Episcopal authority, to regulate the affairs of 
 the Church in that large island. To guide him in 
 this great work he gives him directions, brief but 
 pregnant, and apposite to all the duties of his high 
 commission. He touches upon the character and 
 deportment of those to whom he should entrust 
 any sacred function, gives him brief hints of the 
 character of the Cretians, warns him of the seduc- 
 tions of the Judaizing teachers, and suggests the 
 most important topics of exhortation to be address- 
 ed to the several classes of persons who might come 
 within the reach of his ministry. The "young 
 men," as in the text, he was to " exhort to be so- 
 ber-minded." 
 
 The Greek word which is here rendered to be so- 
 ber-minded is acoippovscv and literally signifies to be 
 of sound or sane mind. It is used in the 5th chap- 
 ter of St. Mark's Gospel in precisely this Hense. 
 
48 SERMON II. 
 
 " And they come to Jesus, and see him that was 
 possessed with the Devil, and had the legion, sit- 
 ting, and clothed, and in his right mind." It is used 
 again in the 12th chapter of the Epistle to the Ro- 
 mans, in an admonition against the disposition to 
 self-flattery, so common to man. " For I say," says 
 the Apostle, " through the grace given unto me, to 
 every man that is among you, not to think of him- 
 self more highly than he ought to think, but to 
 think soberly, according as God hath dealt to every 
 man the measure of faith." It occurs again in the 
 6th chapter of the 2d Epistle to the Corinthiana. 
 "For whether," says the writer, "we be beside 
 ourselves," (i. e. according to the exposition of 
 Whitby, transported in speaking of our raptures, 
 ecstasies and visions), " it is to God," (i. e. to do ser- 
 vice to His cause), " or whether we be sober," (i. e. 
 to take the Apostle's own paraphrase in the 12th 
 chapter — forbear glorying, lest any man should 
 think of me above that which he seeth me to be or 
 that he heareth of me), " it is for your cause." 
 
 "We meet with the same word again in the Ist 
 Epistle of St. PeteK : " But the end of all things 
 is at hand, be ye therefore sober and watch unto 
 prayer." The meaning here is obvious. Deport 
 yourselves seriously and with a wise fore-thought, for 
 such, under such circumstances, is the part of a 
 sound mind. 
 
 These, with the text, are all the passages in which 
 this word, (I refer now to the Greek,) is- used in 
 the ITew Testament, and they give us a fair ac- 
 count of its purport as used by the Apostle in the 
 
SOBER-MINDEDNESS IN YOUNO MEN. 49 
 
 text. To he sober-minded, then, is to be of sound 
 
 mind, — 
 
 1st. In opposition to the madness and the perver- 
 sion of passion; 
 
 2d. In opposition to the delusions of self-flattery 
 and self-confidence ; 
 
 3d. In opposition to that folly and levity of spirit 
 which takes no serious thought of the future. 
 
 I. SoBBKNBSS OF MIND requires a proper control 
 and restraint of the passions. 
 
 It is an old proverb " Anger is a short-lived 
 madness." The same may be said of every violent 
 passion, it is a short-lived madness — " short-lived," be- 
 cause it is not in the nature of mere passion to be 
 lasting. It is an excitement, not the ordinary con- 
 dition of man, and like a fever will wear out itself 
 or its subject. It is a madness, because " It gives a 
 strange bias to the judgment, making a man quick- 
 sighted in every thing that tends to inflame his 
 passion and to justify it, but blind to every thing 
 that tends to moderate and allay it. Like a magic 
 lantern, it raises up specters and apparitions that 
 have no reality, and throws false colors upon every 
 object. It can turn deformity into beauty, vice in- 
 to virtue and virtue into vice." " The sentiments 
 of a man under its influence will appear absurd 
 not only to other men, but even to himself, when 
 the storm is spent. Passion often gives a violent 
 impulse to the will and makes a man do what he 
 knows he shall repent of as long as he lives." 
 (Reid's Essays on the Active Powers, III. p. 2, 
 chap, vi.) 
 
50 SERMON II. 
 
 Nevertheless our desires and affections, and even 
 our appetites, form an important part of our con- 
 stitution ; and the power of being excited and of 
 having them roused to a state even of imperious 
 energy was implanted in us for wise and good ends. 
 This is the impulsive part of our nature, the mov- 
 ing power. The convictions of reason and the 
 persuasions of duty are oftentimes of little avail 
 to set us in action, till we have formed the habit of 
 yielding to them, or unless they are accompanied 
 with some degree of emotion. It is one of the 
 rarest attainments found, to he able to meet and 
 overcome great difficulties, or to accomplish great 
 enterprises without excitement and under no other 
 impulse than that of calm conviction. Ordinarily 
 the power of the will yields in view of difficult 
 undertakings, and before they can be accomplished 
 the purpose must become in some degree impas- 
 sioned. But it must be always remembered that 
 passion is only a moving, not a governing, power. 
 If admitted into counsel, it obscures and darkens. 
 It is blind, incapable of apprehending the clearest 
 distinctions of right and wrong, true and false, and 
 drives one on with the same energy to the foulest 
 sins or to the highest duty. N"ay there is in our 
 depraved nature a greater facility of wrong than of 
 right impulses ; and appetites and desires which 
 lead most directly to sin, are more subject to pas- 
 sionate and ungovernable excitements, than those 
 whose excess is on the side of virtue. That bal- 
 ance of the powers, that just subjection of the Rea- 
 son, and of all the parts and powers of the little 
 
S0BEB-MINDEDNES8 IN TO UNO MEN. 51 
 
 world within us, to the rightful dominion of the 
 Conscience, which constituted the perfection of our 
 unfallen nature, is lost; and Passion, instead of be- 
 ing merely that higher energy of some active princi- 
 ple necessary to sustain it and carry it forward to its 
 end, under the guidance of Reason, has assumed the 
 province of directing, and brought us under its 
 dominion. By admitting then the influence of the 
 passions to decide our conduct, by taking advice 
 of them, we are almost sure to judge falsely and 
 to act in violation of our duty; and no class of 
 persons are more astray from the way of their duty, 
 none more perverted in all their notions, none more 
 unfortunate in all the results of their actions than 
 those who habitually act under the influence of 
 passion. The only way for us to form correct and 
 just judgments is to follow reason and argument, 
 and the more coolly we weigh them the better. Nay, 
 this truth, denied as it is often in practice, and 
 sometimes even deliberately and avowedly, is yet 
 so obvious to the common sense of men, that it has 
 a place in our language, and a " dispassionate" judg- 
 ment is equivalent to a deliberate and a just one. 
 The PassiorfS, however, are more prominent than 
 Reason, are too often excited before reflection has 
 been exercised, and mingle with and pervert the 
 judgment; giving to the first conceptions of a mat- 
 ter the vividness and energy of truth ; exaggerating 
 the prejudices ; exciting a furious party zeal, and 
 coloring and distorting every thing, which meets it 
 in the shape of opposing argument or considera- 
 tion. I have endeavored to reason a lunatic out 
 
52 SERMON II. 
 
 of some of the absurd notions which were preying 
 uijon his mind and disturbing its regular action, 
 and I have endeavored to I'eason with men under 
 a passionate excitement ; and with this difference 
 in success : The insane man, for the time, yielded 
 to argument, but immediately relapsed into his 
 error ; while the passionate man was unassailable 
 by reason, during the paroxysm of his excitement, 
 but passed out of his short-lived madness into san- 
 ity. It may and often does happen, however, that 
 follies taken up in passion will be maintained in 
 cooler moments, and truth and honesty and good 
 sense be sacrificed to consistency and prejudice. 
 It often happens, that in a moment of passion in- 
 juries are done which the return of reason cannot 
 remedy, follies committed which ruin one's char- 
 acter for life, the i-eputation of another assailed and 
 perhaps his person, and wrongs inflicted which no 
 time can repair, and a stain brought upon the con- 
 science which floods of tears cannot wash out. 
 
 It is through the susceptibility of our passions 
 to excitement, that we are so easily assailed by 
 temptation, the wickedness we are tempted to 
 commit is dressed up in a fair disguise, and the 
 desire to which it is addressed quickened into an 
 energy which spui'ns control, and, in a short mo- 
 ment, work is made for long repentance. If we 
 had no passions, temptation could not assail us ; it 
 would find in us nothing to which it could address 
 itself; and if we had our passions under control, if 
 we were never excited without reason nor beyond, 
 reason, though there might still be within us that 
 
80BER-MINDEBNESS IN YOUNG MEN. 53 
 
 to which temptation might apply ,^ — a traitor within 
 the camp ready to admit the enemy, if he were 
 free to execute his treason, yet being known, and 
 under vigilant watch and a strong and steady hand, 
 his treacherous disposition would he harmless. 
 
 If we would be sober-minded in the sense which I 
 have been considering — free from the madness and 
 the perversions of passion, we must form the habit 
 of self-control ; we must keep all tendencies to ex- 
 citement within the restraints of reason and con- 
 science. We must struggle against temptation, and 
 invigorate ourselves against its assaults by a con- 
 stant reference to duty and a habit of acting in 
 obedience to its calls, and above all by seeking the 
 Divine aid and the renewal of our corrupted na- 
 ture by the grace of God. . The depravity which 
 taints our nature, and weakens all the purposes of 
 virtue, and gives strength to temptation, is no theo- 
 logical fiction, but a living reality. It is in us pro- 
 ducing its daily and hourly fruits of wickedness, 
 and it is to be eradicated or its end will be ever- 
 lasting death. And it is not to be tampered with 
 as a mild disease which the power of the system 
 will throw off. It has corrupted the system in 
 every part, and disordered every function, and 
 whatever tendencies to health may remain will be 
 powerless without help from above. 
 
 But why is the exhortation to be sober-minded 
 particularly applicable to the young ? I need not 
 remind you that the development of passion pre- 
 cedes that of reason, and that the young are most 
 apt to be its victims — most apt to fall under the 
 
54 SEEMON II. 
 
 power of temptation. Reason is immature ; expe- 
 rience has had no time to read her lesson of pru- 
 dence ; the animal spirits are lively and evei-y im- 
 pression vigorous; the desires and appetites un- 
 der the restraint of no long formed habit; and all 
 this in a corrupt nature. What then could be a 
 more necessary caution to young men than that 
 they be sober-minded, that they learn to look 
 abroad upon the world and its enticements calmly 
 and warily, as men in danger, never suffering 
 themselves to be deluded by passion, and led into 
 follies by unreasonable excitement. This excita- 
 bility, if kept Tinder control by a sober mind, is a 
 valuable quality in youth even more than in age. 
 " The mind of man," and particularly of young 
 men, " is naturally desultory," and bestows but a 
 transient and careless glance upon objects in which 
 it takes no concern. " It requires a strong degree 
 of curiosity or some more important passion to 
 give it that interest in an object which is necessary 
 to attention, and, without attention, we form no true 
 and stable judgment," make no valuable attain- 
 ment. "Take away the passions, and it is not easy 
 to say how great a part of mankind would resem- 
 ble those frivolous mortals, who never had a thought 
 that engaged them in good earnest." (Eeid, ib.) 
 
 The use of the passions, then, is great; and the 
 abuse to which they are liable no less great, and it 
 would seem that the use is greatest just at the peri- 
 od when there is most danger of abuse. Providence 
 has, however, kindly surrounded us with guards, 
 by ordaining to man a long minority, during which 
 
SOBER-MINDEDNESS IN YOUNG MEN. 55 
 
 he shall be under the guidance and protected by 
 the experience of others. If he be sober-minded, 
 he will gladly avail himself of this safe-guard and 
 not spurn authority in a proud self-reliance. 
 
 n. But this leads me to the second quality of 
 the SOBER MIND, — that which saves from the delu- 
 sions of self-flattery and self-confidence. 
 
 A just self-confidence is an endowment of great 
 value, and necessary to the discharge of the duties 
 of life, But, between this and that of which we 
 here speak, there is a difiference in kind as well as 
 in degree. The one proceeds from self-knowledge, 
 the other from self-ignorance ; the one is the re- 
 sult of experience and the trial of our powers, the 
 other neither waits for experience, nor is limited 
 by it when it comes ; the one is modest, the other 
 arrogant; the one leads to success, the other, not 
 unfrequently to disgraceful failures; the one se- 
 cures to its possessor respect, the other makes him 
 ridiculous. 
 
 It is a necessary result of self-knowledge that we 
 know the limits as well as the reach of our capaci- 
 ties — what we cannot, as well as what we can do. 
 We learn the same from experience, and we learn to 
 know also the difficulties as well as the facilities oi 
 an undertaking; and to know that it is not by over- 
 looking or undervaluing difficulties that they are 
 overcome, but by preparing ourselves to meet 
 them ; and that the attainment of a valuable end 
 comes not by any immediate gift, any charm we 
 bear about us or special favor of Providence attend- 
 
56 SERMON II. 
 
 ing us, but by a careful following out of the means 
 thereto appointed. ITothing is more sober-mind- 
 ed than this self-confidence which is the result ot 
 self-knowledge and experience. On the other 
 hand nothing has less soberness of mind than that 
 which is the growth of conceit and self-flattery. 
 It takes no serious view of the limits of its capaci- 
 ty, none of the practical difficulties which surround 
 every considerable undertaking. It never thinks 
 deliberately of the means, never makes careful 
 preparation for the brilliant ends which glitter be- 
 fore its eye, but seems to conceive something infi- 
 nite and immeasurable in its own power, to which 
 all such ordinary matters are unnecessary. As the 
 vain-glorious, -self-confident man over-estimates 
 himself, so, in comparison with himself, he under- 
 rates all others, except those who have the discern- 
 ment to admire his greatness. Advice he does 
 not need, inasmuch as he has no lack of wisdom. 
 The opinions of others are only so many proofs of 
 their want of judgment, and perhaps imbecility, 
 except so far as they coincide with his own. He 
 has no respect for age, or authority; age is ot 
 course decrepit and authority bigoted, and it is 
 both manly and charitable to resist their notions 
 and to set them right. He presumes that every 
 one will admire him as much as he admires him- 
 self, and is therefore fond of making exhibitions ot 
 himself and his views. If the laws of the society 
 in which be lives stand in the way of his humors, 
 they are of course nothing but antiquated forms, 
 which it would be foolish precision or childish 
 
SOBER-MINDEDNESS IN YOUNG MEN. 57 
 
 weakness for him to regard. The wisdom of age, 
 the accumulated experience of centuries, long and 
 laborious study, are nothing to him"; he sees clear- 
 ly ; his opinions are fixed. Now whence can origi- 
 nate such egregious folly ? 
 
 There is in every man a native disposition to 
 self-adulation. His own powers, his own condi- 
 tion, his own expectations, are all seen under the 
 magnifying influence of proximity, and though he 
 may have sagacity enough not to expose his good 
 opinion of himself to the gibes of his acquaintances, 
 it is too apt to have its influence upon his views 
 and his plans of life. In some, this disposition is 
 controlled by a native modesty ; in some, checked 
 and directed by a judicious education ; in others 
 it flourishes as in a congenial soil, and becomes . 
 their characteristic, making them the choicest game 
 of the jester, and the easy dupes of the designing. 
 
 As this disposition may be repressed and direct- 
 ed by judicious education and the counsel of 
 others, so circumstances often foster it, and bring 
 it to an exaggerated size. 
 
 Such is the effect, oftentimes, of sudden and 
 unexpected success ; the credit of which, however it 
 may have happened, by a favorable juncture of cir- 
 cumstances which the individual has had no agency 
 in producing, is yet quietly assumed, and appro- 
 priated. Such, too, is the effect of sudden elevation, 
 the sudden introduction of a man into society above 
 himself in condition. It is sometimes nourished, 
 too, by seclusion, which leaves one at full liberty to 
 indulge his fancies, and to make himself lord of as 
 
58 SERMON II. 
 
 many airy castles as lie pleases. It springs up in 
 private and limited associations of persons engaged 
 in a common pursuit, in which the most forward 
 are, in their own estimation and by the vote of their 
 companions, very great men, and the whole body 
 far above the general level of the world. It is 
 nourished, too, by the spirit of the age, which is al- 
 ways one of seLf-flattery ; and by the spirit of the 
 present age especially, which, proud of its success in 
 certain great improvements, arrogates to itself all 
 wisdom, values experiment rather than experience, 
 derides authority, and deliberately points, — not to 
 the past for knowledge and understanding, but — ^to 
 the present, whose results have not yet come, and 
 to the future, of which we know nothing. 
 
 To the illusions of this self-confidence the young 
 are particularly exposed, for in them " the forward 
 delusive faculty" of imagination is strong, their 
 conceptions are vivid, and they have not lived long 
 enough in the world to see how easily the glitter- 
 ing frost-work of the fancy disappears as the day 
 of life advances. Experience is a stern teacher. It 
 never disputes with us, but the course of things 
 keeps its unrelenting way, and proves to us that 
 however well founded we may have thought our 
 expectations, they were false ; that however clear to 
 us the grounds of them may have appeared, we 
 have somehow erred concerning them, or reasoned 
 from them unskilfully. Well would it be. if, in 
 this respect, the young would be persuaded to cul- 
 tivate a sober-mind ; if they would learn to think 
 modestly of themselves and their attainments, 
 
SOBER-MINDEDNESS IN YOUNG MEN. 59 
 
 and to listen to the opinions of those to whom age 
 has imparted wisdom no otherwise to be attained. 
 It is a strange mistake in the young to suppos,e 
 that their hopes can be matters of envy to the old. 
 There are indeed among the old those who have 
 learned nothing by experience, and in whom the 
 follies of youth flourish amid the decays of age ; 
 but the proper feeling of age is kindly to the young, 
 and it is rtiade garrulous to the very end that it may 
 impart its experience. As you who are younger 
 are advancing to take possession of the world and 
 its affairs, we who are older are receding, and as 
 we go down to the grave, we would not leave the 
 things which we have cared for in feeble or unskil- 
 ful hands. Especially are we solicitous for your 
 reputation and success, when, from the relation in 
 which we stand, you can attain no success which 
 is not our success, gain no honor in which we shall 
 not be sharers. 
 
 If you take a sober view of your prospects and 
 duties in life, and make a sober estimate of your 
 powers, you will not be likely to waste your efforts 
 in fruitless enterprises, nor to suffer the discourage- 
 ment of disappointed purposes and plans. And if, 
 laying aside the arrogant assumption of self-suffi- 
 ciency, you should accustom yourselves to yield a 
 proper deference to those who have a claim there- 
 to, it might save you from the fall and destruction 
 which not unfrequently follows a proud and haugh- 
 ty spirit. 
 
 I have spoken of this unseemly self-confidence 
 in its general features. If time would serve me, I 
 
60 SERMON II. 
 
 should speak of it more particularly, in its bear- 
 ings upon the development of religious character; 
 but, as it is, shall content myself with a mere refer- 
 ence to a significant remark of St. Paul to Timothy. 
 Speaking of the qualifications of those to be or- 
 dained, " Ifot a novice," said he, "lest being lifted 
 up with pride, he fall into the condemnation of the 
 Devil." 
 
 ni. i pass now to tne third form of sobbr-mind- 
 EDNESS, as opposed to that folly and levity of spirit, 
 which takes no serious thought of the future. It 
 would seem scarcely credible, considering the 
 forecast to which man's nature inclines him, that 
 any one should be able to live contentedly without 
 asking himself how his present position and actions 
 may influence his future condition, and whither 
 the stream of time,, flowing so swiftly though noise- 
 lessly, may be bearing him on. But so it is. There 
 are many who rejoice in the gaieties and indul- 
 gences of the present as though there were nothing 
 else to be hoped or feared. It is surely folly to be 
 thus thoughtless, for not only is there a future, full 
 of hope or full of fear to every mortal man ; but the 
 seeds of the future are sown in the present, and 
 this very hour may determine the harvest of never- 
 ending ages. It is worse than levity of spirit, for 
 one who has important concerns to take care of, 
 to be idly busying himself with every trifle that 
 meets him in his course, and making himself a trifler 
 and a companion of triflers. And it is worse than 
 folly ,itis madness, for one to expose himself through 
 
SOBER-MINDEDNESS IN YOUNG MEN. 61 
 
 this neglect and trifling, to disappointment and 
 ruin in every shape, and under all imaginable hor- 
 rors. And yet nothing is more common. The 
 morning of life is the appointed season of prepara- 
 tion for maturer years, and as we then sow we 
 shall afterward reap. Providence never changes 
 its settled order of cause and effect, to avert from 
 us the dangers or the losses incurred by our incon- 
 siderate folly, but suffers a useless and dishonor- 
 able manhood to follow a reckless and dishonorable 
 youth. And yet how few think soberly of the bear- 
 ing of their youth upon their age, and diligently 
 form those habits and apply themselves to those 
 attainments in early life, which will adorn and 
 render happy their maturer life. How few who are 
 not turned aside, from that which they know to be 
 their proper course of prepai ition for the business 
 of hfe, by their hnmors and their caprices or 
 their perverseness, if not by the violence of unre- 
 strained passion. 
 
 But ftu-ther, this life is the preparation for an- 
 other, and we have the plainest assurance that 
 here, in this brief and rapidly escaping allotment 
 of time, we fix inevitably, whether we heed it or 
 not, our destiny for happiness or misery, unalter- 
 able and eternal. And yet how few are looking 
 forward with sober minds to this great issue of 
 their being; how few are asking in seriousness of 
 'spirit, how they may most surely attain this future 
 glory, how avoid this future wretchedness. How- 
 few are seeking, as the first great object of their 
 lives, the Kingdom of Heaven ; how few, daily and 
 
62 SERMON II. 
 
 sedulously, watcMng against the temptations to sin 
 which beset them ; how few, striving earnestly to 
 subdue their evil tempers and the lusts of the 
 flesh ; how few, setting their aft'ections on things 
 above, watching unto prayer, and preparing for 
 communing with God in Heaven by devoutly 
 seeking communion with Him in this their pilgrim- 
 age ? Alas ! looking over the face of the world, 
 one would scarce suspect that there was a Heaven 
 and a Hell beyond. 
 
 The exhortation to be sober-minded, in this sense 
 also, is addressed with peculiar propriety and force 
 to young men. They are more subject to be led 
 captive by the present and the superficial. They 
 have had no training in the school of experience 
 and disappointment. The vivacity of their emo- 
 tions renders the fair show of the gay world around 
 them still more fair, and they easily yield to the 
 temptations to forget the remote, though more 
 substantial. They need therefore, line upon line, 
 and precept upon precept, and happy are they if 
 sober-minded enough to give heed to friendly 
 admonition. 
 
 It comes to youth, also, with a double aim and a 
 double force. They have their condition to deter- 
 mine in this life, and in that which is to come. 
 Both hang in a measure upon their youthful de- 
 cision. If they are wise for Eternity they are M^ise 
 for Time, for he who seeks first the Kingdom of 
 Heaven has the best promise of the life that now is. 
 If they are false to their true interests in this world, 
 they are also to those of the next. There rests up- 
 
SOBER-MINDEDNESS IN YOUNG MEN. 63 
 
 on the head of every young person, a responsibility 
 greater than can be conceived, and yet unavoid- 
 able. He is responsible for his happiness and well- 
 being, and that of — he knows not how many — oth- 
 ers in this world, and responsible for his eter- 
 nal salvation in the world to come. There is a 
 measure of this responsibility resting upon others 
 also, upon his parents, his guardians, his teachers. 
 But after all, it rests upon himself, and must rest 
 upon himself, to determine how those momentous 
 concerns shall issue. They may counsel, and ad- 
 monish, and correct; but his will, swayed as it is 
 liable to be by temptation, and maddened by pas- 
 sion, and obstinate through pride, must decide the 
 question of happiness or misery, of honor or dis- 
 honor, of everlasting reward or everlasting punish- 
 ment. 
 
 With most affectionate earnestness, then, do I ex- 
 hort you to be sober-minded ; to look upon and to 
 judge of things, according to their true value; not 
 to permit yourselves to be led away by the madness 
 of passion, nor the delusions of self-flattery, nor to 
 be deceived into forgetfulness of the interests of 
 the future by the seductions of the present. 
 
 Addressed to the Graduating Class. — You 
 especially who are soon to be crowned with Aca- 
 demic laurels, and to leave our guidance and guard- 
 ianship, would I urge to enter upon the world which 
 lies before you with all sobriety of mind, with se- 
 rious purposes, and a religious regard for your 
 weighty responsibilities. Our warmest wishes and 
 
64 BEBMON 11. 
 
 most fervent prayers will accompany you. You 
 enter with, a fair prospect upon the broader theatre 
 of life. May God give you grace so to discharge 
 its duties that when your work is done on earth, 
 it may be well done; and that you may leave it 
 with a well-grounded hope of entering into rest. 
 
SERMON III. 
 
 PIETY AND MORALITY INSEPARABLE. 
 
 Matt. xxii. 39. "And the second is like unto it." 
 
 These words are repeated so often in our Service, 
 that the connection in which they stand in the sa- 
 cred text, will readily recur to you. "Which is the 
 great commandment in the Law ?" inquired one of 
 the expounders of the Jewish Law, of our blessed 
 Saviour. " Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with 
 all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy 
 mind," He replied. " This is 'the first and great 
 commandment, and, the second is like unto it, thou 
 shalt love thy neighbour as thyself." 
 
 There is in man, corrupt as he is, a truth- telling 
 Conscience, and, however he may resist its impulses 
 to the discharge of his duty, he can rarely resist 
 the conviction that he has a duty to perform, or 
 disguise from himself the greatness of his obliga- 
 tion. The corrupt heart however is deceitful, and 
 expert in the subtleties of an evasive casuistry. 
 The question of the Jewish Lawyer, which I have 
 just repeated, was grounded on one of those sub- 
 tle evasions of duty for which the teachers of the 
 Synagogue, in the time of our Saviour, were so 
 remarkable ; and by which they contrived to main- 
 tain a venerable profession of religious character, 
 
66 SERMON III. 
 
 and at the same time to secure a plenary indul- 
 gence for their conduct in their intercourse with 
 men. "Who could deny their conscientious strict- 
 ness', when he saw them tithing " mint, anise and 
 cummin," that they might be sure not to defraud 
 the temple and its service and its ministers of their 
 due ; or their fervid piety, when he witnessed their 
 unstinted devotions in the synagogues and at the 
 corners of the streets ? And if they " neglected 
 justice, and judgment and mercy" in their inter- 
 ,course with men, they doubtless contrived to do 
 ,it as unrighteous men in all ages do, under such 
 pretexts of personal right, and the apparent cover 
 of law and the sanction of custom, that even they 
 who suffered wrong scarcely knew how to convict 
 them, while the corrupt and partial judgment of 
 the public accustomed to such things, yielded them 
 an easy acquittal. 
 
 ""Which is the great commandment of the Law ?" 
 These conscientious professors of the religion of 
 Moses, would fain know wherein consisted the es- 
 Isence of religion, what was the great fundamental 
 principle of piety, and then contrive so to observe 
 and cherish that, as to be able to flatter themselves 
 that they were at heart right, though daily and 
 hourly violating the plainest principles of duty. 
 They would fain find out some one Commandment, 
 in itself so perfect an epitome of religious duty, 
 that, in the keeping of it, all others might; seem to 
 be included, and that they might enjoy the religious 
 liberty of feeling themselves, as to other claims, at 
 ease ; or, they would know, if possible, some one 
 
PIETY AND MORALITY imEPABABLE. 67 
 
 *■ ^ood thing " of so eminent a character that the 
 jing of it should entitle them to " eternal life," 
 3spite all other deficiencies. Such, in the moiith 
 of these Jewish casuists, was the spirit of the ques- 
 tion : — ^What was that of the answer ? Christ en- 
 joined no single precept. He named no one " great 
 commandment of the Law ; " set forth no one 
 "good thing" as linked inseparably to "eternal 
 life." He did not bid the enquirer love God, and 
 leave him to make his own inferences as to hia 
 duty to Man. Nor did He command him on the 
 other hand to lame his neighbour and thus implicitly 
 sink the other great branch of human duty. He 
 knew to whom He spake ; knew not only the per- 
 verse and perhaps captious purpose of the enquir- 
 er, but the precise perversion which might be made 
 of His reply, had He named but one duty, however 
 important and fundamental. His answer was a 
 brief but perfect summary of the moral Law. 
 " Thou shalt love the Loed thy G-OD with all thy 
 heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, 
 this is the first and great command/' — the princi- 
 ple and fountain of human duty; but He does not 
 slop here, nay. He tells them, paradoxical as it 
 may seem, that this first and great command has 
 an equal, " The second is like unto it," equally im- 
 perative, of equal obligation, subject to no relaxa- 
 tion of its claims on the ground of obedience to 
 the first. 
 
 There is in the general spirit of this reply some- 
 thing to be deeply considered. It sanctions none 
 of those distinctions between the great points of 
 
b« SUMMON III. 
 
 religious duty, which men have been so much in- 
 clined to make, from the days of the Jewish Doc- 
 tors to our own. It does not gratify the spirit of 
 corrupt compromise or of party, by telling us that 
 religion consists in this or in that, that this or that 
 is the great or the essential point in the Grospel. 
 It intimates no exceptions in favor of- any sin. It 
 gives no exclusive dignity and importance to any 
 duty. It does not encourage us to think that any 
 zealous profession, any degree of scrupulous ortho- 
 doxy, any confidence in our own good estate or 
 the favor of God, any length and fervency of pray- 
 ers, or any reputation for piety among men, will 
 at all avail us, if we neglect the duty of loving our 
 neighbour as ourselves. K"or, on the other hand, 
 that any scrupulous honesty in our dealings with 
 men, any abstinence from injuries to their persons 
 or their reputations, any active benevolence, will 
 suffice without entire and hearty love to God. 
 
 The spirit of our Saviour's teaching has so per- 
 vaded His followers that few would in terms allow 
 that true piety can exist without morality, or true 
 morality be sustained in perfect purity and dis- 
 interestedness, without piety. iN'o matter what 
 varieties may exist in their Creeds. No matter 
 what contra-dictions to this admission might appear 
 in their systematic deductions, or what, if fairly 
 carried out, might be the consequences of their 
 theories, all would in terms admit the necessity of 
 that union which Christianity has first proclaimed 
 between piety and morality — between our duty to 
 God and our duty to our Neighbour. 
 
PIETY AND MORALITY INSEPARABLE. 69 
 
 Yet, in practice, nothiug is more common than to 
 see men deluding themselves and endeavouring to 
 delude others, by an ostentation of an earnest and 
 fervent love to God and zeal for His service, who 
 are notoriously deficient in their duty to their 
 neighbour : And on the other hand, men, against 
 the rigid correctness of whose dealings with their 
 fellow-men, scandal itself can find almost no word 
 to utter, but in the actions of whose heart and soul 
 and mind as exhibited in their daily conduct, no 
 trace can be discovered of the love of God ; in whose 
 life appears no devotion, in whose sentiments no 
 faith. The truth is, that although true love to 
 God necessarily begets love to Man, and a high 
 and sacred and disinterested love to Man flows only 
 from the highest principle of Religious Charity, there 
 may be superstition where there is little or no piety; 
 there may be a sort of religious fear, where there is 
 no love ; and there may be also a fictitious love to 
 God, the creature of fancy or self-flattery, so well 
 counterfeiting the true as to pass current for it. 
 And so, on the other hand, there may be an honesty, 
 springing from policy, or from an enlightened pru- 
 dence, which tells its possessor that there is noth- 
 ing gained and much risked by knavery ; or a spirit 
 of fair and even liberal dealing resulting from a 
 kindly nature and a freedom from sordid avarice, 
 which will be sufficient in the ordinary intercourse 
 of men and the absence of urgent temptations, to 
 prevent aggressions, and even to excite remarks and 
 commendations. But, I repeat it, such love to God, 
 as He requires, and such as our Saviour enjoins in 
 
70 BEBMON in. 
 
 that which He pronounces to be the first and great 
 commandment, cannot exist without producing 
 that equal and disinterested love to Man, which 
 is set forth by Him as of equal obligation. And 
 again, this equal and disinterested love to our fel- 
 low-men, pursuing their happiness not only when 
 convenient to us, but through difficulties and dan- 
 gers and hardships without acknowledgment and 
 without requital, has never so far as I know, been 
 found unallied with, and unsustained by, Religious 
 Faith and Charity. 
 
 He who loves the common Father and Benefac- 
 tor of all men — "Whose goodness shines in every 
 work of His hands, "Whose rich blessings are throng- 
 ing every hour of our lives, and Who sends His 
 rain upon the just and the unjust, — either loves 
 Him from some selfish view, and so loves Him not 
 in truth and sincerity, or his love will be expansive 
 like His, and he will love him whom God loves, 
 his brother of the great family of man, his neigh- 
 bour whether near or remote. The love of Him, 
 "Who is Love, springs from a benevolence like His 
 own in kind, and the argument of the Apostle will 
 forever stand unrefuted, — " K a man loveth not 
 his brother whom he hath seen, how can he love 
 God, "Whom he hath not seen." And whatever 
 may be his emotions, however great his raptures 
 in his communings with his Maker, he is certainly 
 under some illusion, if he habitually violates the 
 second of the two great branches of human duty, 
 and loves not his neighbour with a true and hearty 
 love. 
 
PIETT AND MORALITY INSEPARABLE. 71 
 
 And how, on the other hand, can the love of one's 
 neighbour be sustained under some of the trials to 
 which it is subjected in the changes and chances 
 of this world, if it be not by love to the common 
 Father and Author of all things,Who never changes. 
 "We are depraved, though possesing a heavenly 
 nature. However elevated our principles, we are 
 yet subject to many infirmities, and carry about us 
 evil passions, which though subjected, are prompt 
 on every occasion to rise in rebellion against the 
 voice of conscience. Though endued with reason, 
 and moving over all this world as the representa- 
 tive of its Maker, and the sole bearer of His image, 
 we have no absolute security, that our judgment 
 shall not be warped by prejudice or passion, that we 
 shall always see clearly the way of duty, and that 
 it will not sometimes, to the mere intellect, seem 
 right to hate rather than to love. And what shall 
 sustain one in his love to his fellow-men, when 
 he finds his love unrequited — nay scorned and ridi- 
 culed ; when he gets hatred for his love, and all 
 manner of ill offices for his good will ; when he 
 finds his best motives misconstrued, aud his best 
 purposes represented as full of all wickedness ; and 
 when he finds himself persecuted for the very sake 
 of his highest and holiest actions ? Where shall he 
 find sympathy, but in the bosom of God ? Where 
 shall his love flow out, for those who scorn it, but 
 into the ears of his Maker ? How shall it find ali- 
 ment, but in communion with Him who loves like 
 himself but with an infinitely higher and holier 
 love, and like himself has been rejected ? Love 
 
72 SERMON III. 
 
 unfailing must be nourished by an unfailing spring, 
 and it is only he who truly loves his Maker, that 
 under all circumstances, and under every trial, 
 will love his neighbour as himself. 
 
 Nay to love his neighbour as himself, under even 
 the most favorable circumstances, must require one 
 to look upon his neighbour from a higher point of 
 view than himself. He must take his stand where 
 he can look upon his neighbour and himself with 
 an equal eye ; that is to say, with Him to whom all 
 men bear equal relation. And how shall he attain 
 this but by a supreme love of God, a love of the 
 whole heart and mind and soul and strength, a 
 love which masters every other passion, and draws 
 them into itself, makes him to love that which 
 God loves, and makes God's will the highest rule 
 of his affections as well as of his actions. From 
 such a starting point, the very Centre of being, 
 his love may reach his neighbour as well as him- 
 self; and without neglecting that care of himself 
 which God has entrusted especially to himself, he 
 will be purified from all selfishness, and in the op- 
 eration of an unfailing and unlimited charity, be 
 prepared for the fulfilling of the whole law. 
 
 While the first great duty of man, then, is "to love 
 the LoKD his God with all his heart, and with 
 all his soul and with all his mind," to nourish it 
 by all the means of prayer and praise and thanks- 
 giving; by devout meditation, by a constant recol- 
 lection of His mercies and reference to Him in all 
 his actions ; his next and equal duty and one which 
 flows from it and it alone, with unfailing certainty, 
 
PIETY AND MORALITY INSEPARABLE. 73 
 
 is to love his neighbour as himself. Love is an 
 expansive principle — it cannot live shut up in the 
 narrow enclosure of one's own bosom. It loves the 
 free air, and room to stretch abroad its arms, and 
 to scatter its fragrance. It is an active principle, 
 and must have objects; not only upon which to 
 expend itself in feeling but in working. Hence, 
 then, while God is its living fountain and the cen- 
 tre to which it always tends, it requires other ob- 
 jects for its perfect development. God we may 
 love, but we cannot benefit. He needs none of our 
 services. He wants nothing that we can ofiBr. 
 But there is around us, by the ordering of God, His 
 great family exhibiting want enough for our larg- 
 est charity, suffering which we may alleviate, af- 
 fliction which we may solace, griefs which may be 
 soothed by our sympathy. Scope is ofl^ered for 
 every form in which love can make itself mani- 
 fest. There is pinching poverty, which demands 
 the contribution of our substance ; &nd he who 
 has it not to give may become another's almoner, 
 who has more of it perhaps than of time or apt- 
 ness to seek out occasions for its use. And in the 
 infinite variety of ills and vexations and infirmi- 
 ties, which flesh is heir to, there is use for all 
 that love can do in consolation and encouragement; 
 and the kind word, and the kind look, and the 
 kind vnsh, of those who can give no more, may 
 often be of inestimable value. "When saw we 
 Thee an hungered and fed Thee, or thirsty and 
 gave Thee drink? When saw we Thee a stranger 
 and took Thee in? or naked and clothed Thee? or 
 
74 BEEMON III. 
 
 wlien saw we Thee sick or in prison and came 
 unto Thee ?" Such is the astonished appeal which 
 the righteous are represented as making to their 
 Judge at the great day of retribution. He had 
 commended them for their active love and servi- 
 ces to Himself, and far from desiring to seem 
 better than they were, they ask Him, like those to 
 whom is attributed a merit of which they are not 
 conscious, "When did we all these things ?" And 
 the King shall answer and say unto them, inas- 
 much as ye did it unto one of the least of these 
 My brethren ye did it unto Me," Services rendered 
 to Man in the spirit of charity are services rendered 
 to God, and, as such, will be accepted in the last 
 day. They are the proper and the ordained man- 
 ifestation of love to God. They proceed from it 
 as naturally as light from the Sun, or the water 
 which fertilizes the soil, from the overflowing 
 Fountain; and when they cease, it must be that 
 the source -has dried wp, for " Whoso seeth his 
 brother have need and shutteth up his bowels of 
 compassion from him, how dwelleth (not the love 
 of his brother, but) the love of God in him." This 
 view of charity to man as the proper development 
 of love to God, pervades the whole Gospel of the 
 Son of God. It is a dispensation of Love, to God 
 as the root, to Man in active benevolence as its 
 proper fruit ; and it is a preparation for that life 
 of blessedness in heaven, the very breath of which 
 is love. The exercise of charity is the true disci- 
 pline of perfection, for as perfect charity keeps 
 the whole law, and therefore fails not in the way 
 
FIETY AND MORALITY INSEPARABLE. 75 
 
 of actual transgression, so also is it in that perfect 
 exercise of it — in -which " we love our enemies, 
 bless them that curse us, do good to them that 
 hate ue, and pray for them that despitefully use 
 us and persecute us — that we become really and 
 trulj' the children of our Father which is iu 
 Heaven, and perfect as He is perfect." 
 
 If such, then, is the relation of love to Man as a 
 necessary development of love to God, we may 
 see further, that obedience to the second great 
 command is necessary to the proof of our obedi- 
 ence to the first. The existence of inward princi- 
 ples can be made manifest only by their develop ■ 
 ment in action. In their repose they disappear 
 even to the eye of consciousness; and one looking 
 at himself, when all his passions are at rest, may 
 fail to recognize his real character, and calling up 
 factitious emotions, fancy himself what he pleases. 
 Though consciousness is a true witness of what 
 pa'sses within us, it is a mere reporter of facts ; it 
 does not analyze them, and therefore to a person 
 himself does not furnish so trustworthy a repre- 
 sentation of his own character, as the habits and 
 conduct of his daily life. These spring from his 
 inward principles, from these principles as they bal- 
 ance or modify each other, and thus give a result, 
 which it might be difficult otherwise to attain. 
 They come from the real principles, not factitious 
 emotions, which mingle with them and confound 
 his efforts at self-inspection ; and thus they perform 
 a practical analysis, separate that which does not 
 belong to him, and give us the true elements of his 
 
76 SERMON III. 
 
 inward life. Take the great principles before us as 
 an example. One professes to love Groo. How shall 
 he satisfy even himself most perfectly, that he 
 loves Him in truth and sincerity ? By studying the 
 emotions of his heart, sitting perhaps in solitude, 
 that nothing may disturb the steadiness of his 
 meditations ? Alas ! who knows not the crowd 
 of emotions, which may rush at once before the 
 eye of consciousness, and how they may be modi- 
 fied by hopes or fears, by present purposes, by 
 selfish partialities, and by the perversions and ca- 
 prices of the judgment? It is true that emotions, 
 which are clear and energetic, are as visible to the 
 eye of consciousness as anything whatever to the 
 outward eye, and the single-hearted man may be 
 sure that he loves God, because he feels that he 
 loves him. But the single heart is rare. The 
 man who mingles much with the world, and gets 
 himself involved in its business and its cares, and is 
 hurried on by its hopes and its fears, would need 
 more skill in self-inspection than belongs to most,to 
 read his own character in the crowded page of his 
 inward feelings and purposes and desires. He can 
 read it more easily in the daily actions of his life, if 
 he will take them as he finds them, put upon them 
 no selfish glosses, but interpret them just as he 
 would interpret the similar actions of another 
 man. It is indeed hard for one to sever, in his 
 own view, his act from its partial interpretation ; 
 but actions have this advantage for the purpose of 
 self-examination over the mere emotions of the 
 heart, that they are fixed, they remain as they 
 
PIETY AND MORALITY INSEPARABLE. 77 
 
 were performed, and are beyond the reach of 
 change. One may ask himself, then, has he acted 
 in such a manner as to show a supreme love for 
 his Maker. He has done no great work for God, 
 and perhaps he cannot perceive that his ordinary 
 actions have had any conscious reference to God. 
 What then have they been towards his neigh- 
 bour ? Has his life been a struggle to overreach 
 him, or to do him good ? Has it shown that he 
 loves his neighbour as himself; that he tenders 
 his welfare and happiness as his own? Has he 
 given meat to the hungry, and drink to the thirsty, 
 has he kindly entertained the stranger, and gone 
 to the sick and the prisoner with consolation and 
 relief? Has he sacriiiced his own ease and his own 
 possessions to promote the good of others, and 
 has he done this expecting nothing again ? 
 
 It is true, one may do much for others from 
 other reasons than love to God, and therefore 
 there may be much kindness to man without af- 
 fording any proof of pious dispositions. Love to 
 God must have its peculiar development, in 
 attachment to His Worship, in obedience to His 
 Commandments, and in devotion to His Institu- 
 tions and Ordinances. But we have seen also 
 that it will develop itself in love to Man, and 
 therefore, although one may do many things 
 which indicate love to his neighbour, without lov- 
 ing God, yet if his life shows a failure in the duty 
 of loving his neighbour, even as himself, it shows 
 also, and most conclusively, that he does not love 
 " the Lord his God, with all his heart, and with 
 
78 SERMON III. 
 
 all his mind and with all Ms strength." Failure in 
 the second command will infallibly convict him of 
 failure in the first. 
 
 Whether one love God, however, could never 
 be made a question, if he loved Him with all his 
 heart, and mind and strength. Such a love, char- 
 acterising and rendering single the whole inward 
 life, could not fail to testify itself unequivocally to 
 the consciousness, and its fruit in the outward life 
 would mark it to the dullest eye. It is because 
 we halt so miserably between duty and transgres- 
 sion, because the service we render to Gob is so 
 equivocal and so negligent, and the affection we 
 bear to Him so cold, while all our other affections 
 are warm, that we make a long and anxious ques- 
 tion, " do we love God, or do we not?" " I would 
 thou, wert either cold or hot" is the startling 
 exclamation of the Alpha and the Omega to on^ 
 of the Seven Churches of Asia. If we were either 
 cold or hot, our position would not need to hang 
 in this uncertainty. If one throws up all preten- 
 sions to religious character, he leaves no doubt as 
 to his position, and so if he would on the other 
 hand enter in earnest upon a religious life, it could 
 not be mistaken by himself or others. 
 
 It is the same deficiency in the depth and earn- 
 estness of religious dispositions, which induces a 
 desire to limit religious obligations. The en- 
 quiry, how little service God will accept, never 
 comes from one who really loves His service. 
 Such an one never asks, " Which is the great 
 commandment of the law ?" with any other pur 
 
PIETY AND MORALITY INSEPABABLE. 79 
 
 pose, thau that of applying himself more strict- 
 ly to its observance. Love renders no stinted 
 obedience, makes no unauthorized distinctions be- 
 tween the necessary and the unnecessary, but 
 rejoices in every duty, as a means by which it can 
 utter its overflowing heart, and make known its 
 sincerity. 
 
 And may God give us all grace so to love Him, 
 not as uncertainly, but with all our heart, and 
 mind and strength and our neighbour as ourselves. 
 
SERMON IV. 
 
 PERSONAL RESPONSIBILITY. 
 
 Pkov. ix. 12. " If thou be wise, thou shalt be 
 
 WISE FOR thyself- BUT IF THOU SCORNEST, THOU 
 SHALT BEAR IT." 
 
 If a man could see himself and his life unveiled, 
 could see spread out before him his dangers, and 
 his deliverances, his infirmities and his power, his 
 victories and his defeats, — he would be not only, 
 as the Psalmist says," a wonder unto many " but 
 to himself. Nay, if he could get a full view of the 
 greatness of his responsibility ; the infinite glory 
 within his reach, and the utter misery and ruin 
 into which he is liable to fall ; the power of temp- 
 tation to mislead him; the necessity of outward 
 helps to his infirmities, and yet the power of his 
 will to overmaster all outward influences whether 
 for good or evil ; and the ultimate dependence of 
 all his hopes upon himself, despite his weaknesses 
 and caprices ; — he might be so much overwhelmed 
 as to be unfitted for the duties of life. Under the 
 guidance of a kind Providence, we often escape 
 physical dangers without knowing either our peril 
 or our deliverance; and perhaps when the path 
 we ought to pursue is plain, our safety may often 
 lie in not fully knowing our danger. So it is in a 
 measure with our moral dangers. They are par- 
 
PERSONAL RESPONSIBILITY. 81 
 
 tially hidden, lest too great apprehension should 
 paralyze us, or our sense of responsibility be so 
 oppressive as to diminish our power to discharge it. 
 
 But our inattention to the great concerns of life, 
 carries this security far beyond the designs of 
 Providence. Our moral dangers are partially con- 
 cealed, we close our eyes upon them entirely. Our 
 duties do not oppress our consciences ; we fail to 
 make conscience of them at all. Our responsibili- 
 ties do not force themselves upon us ; they are 
 forgotten and left to be discharged as chance may 
 direct. 
 
 It is necessary then that the "voice of wisdom " 
 be frequently urged upon us, to recall us from 
 our obscure and partial and perverted views of 
 duty ; and that we be shown the reality and the 
 force of our individual responsibility. And never 
 is this more necessary or appropriate, than when 
 we arrive at some of tho^ stages in the progress 
 of life, at which our course is to be changed, and 
 we are to enter upon new scenes of duty. 
 
 It has been a common practice of man ever since 
 the Fall, upon any transgression, to lay the blame 
 of his sin any where, but where it belonged. " The 
 serpent beguiled me, and I did eat," was the apol- 
 ogy for the first transgression: "The woman 
 whom thou gavest to be with me, she gave me of 
 the tree, and I did eat;" for the second. He is 
 ready enough to take the credit of the good that he 
 may do, to believe that his wisdom is his own ; not 
 remembering that, if he be " wise for himself, he 
 must also bear his own scorning." 
 
82 SERMON IV. 
 
 We sometimes hear it said, that man is the crea- 
 ture of circumstances. He is undoubtedly influ- 
 enced by them ; and it may be owing to the cir- 
 cumstances in which they are placed, that those 
 whose capacities and tendencies are much alike, 
 pursue different courses in life, Etnd come to differ- 
 ent ends. If we wish to influence the character of 
 a child in its development, we act upon this prin- 
 ciple. "We remove, as far as possible, temptation 
 to evil. "We surround him with good examples, 
 "We make it, as far as we can, convenient to him 
 and his happiness to do right. We do not forget 
 the moral influence of kind looks and pleasant 
 sounds and agreeable landscapes. Indeed this 
 constitutes some men's theory of education. They 
 look upon human nature, as a mere passivity as to 
 power, and a mere blank as to character. They 
 believe that it receives all its ideas and impres- 
 sions from without, and whatever it may become, 
 they refer it all to exterior influences. Its faults 
 they charge to its education, or the misfortune of 
 its position. 
 
 But is this a just account of human nature ? Is 
 man's character an accident which happens to him 
 from without ? Is it a matter over which his choice 
 and determination exercise no control? Does he 
 grow, only as a stone grows, by accretion ? 
 
 "Whatever may be the force of exterior influen- 
 ces in modifying the character of a person, it can 
 never amount to the power of absolute control. 
 It was never designed by Providence to give them, 
 nor to us through them, such power. " He that is 
 
PERSONAL RESPONSIBILITY. 83 
 
 wise, must be wise for himself;" and if he scorn, 
 it will be his alone to bear. Each man is charged 
 with himself; and though we are bidden to mind 
 each the things of others, and are able to aid them 
 in a virtuous life or to tempt them to sin and ruin, 
 and in reference to them we may be placed under 
 a serious acountability, — yet our accountability can 
 never supplant their own. 
 
 Such a supposition utterly forgets the independ- 
 ent accountability which God has imposed upon 
 all men ; it forgets the power of the human will ; 
 it forgets that neither virtue nor vice are adventi- 
 tious, but essential ; not occurring from without, 
 but an interior growth. It forgets the common 
 phenomenon, of vice occurring where nothing but 
 lessons of virtue had been taught; and the phe- 
 nomenon, less common but sometimes occurring, 
 of virtue springing up like a flower of the wilder- 
 ness, in the midst of moral desolation ; nay, it for- 
 gets that the first instances of human wickedness 
 occured in Paradise, where man enjoyed all that 
 was lovely in sight and sound, the intercourse of 
 Angels, and unrestrained converse with his Maker. 
 Still, however, these external influences have 
 their power, and sometimes a prevailing power. 
 Some of them persuade us to do good, and some 
 of them tempt us to evil. And persuasions to 
 good are far from useless to corroborate the good 
 purposes which may have sprung up in our own 
 minds; while temptations to evil often prevail 
 even against good purposes, which have been fee-, 
 bly conceived and feebly adopted. — With all the, 
 
84 SEBMON IV. 
 
 mysterious power wliich belongs to the human 
 will, and notwithstanding the loftiness of the un- 
 derstanding which gives man a relationship to his 
 Maker, his purposes are feeble, and his reason 
 weak. His mind too often unresolved, is open to 
 the power of temptation, of evil example, of op- 
 portunities and facilities to sin. He becomes the 
 creature of circumstances, not because he cannot 
 help it, but because he voluntarily yields himself 
 to their influence, and chooses rather to swim with 
 the current than to resist it. There is in us, with 
 the help of God, the power of resisting tempta^ 
 tion; but the appetite for sinful indulgences 
 which is also in us, and the oppprtunity concur- 
 ring, may easily prove too much for convictions 
 of duty unconfirmed by habits of self-control. 
 Hence the necessity of praying and acting upon 
 the prayer, — " Lead us not into temptation." And 
 hence, also, the importance of all those influences 
 favorable to virtue and piety, with which we are 
 surrounded by the providence and the grace of 
 God ; — the care of parents guarding our infancy ; 
 itheir's and that of teachers to protect our youth ; 
 friends to counsel and sustain us in age; the 
 guardianship of the Church which receives and 
 seals us before we have knowledge to discern good 
 or evil, and acts as the minister of God to recall us 
 from our wanderings, to comfort us in our sor- 
 rows, and to nourish us with spiritual food to 
 Eternal Life. 
 
 But, as I have already said, the power of none 
 of these amounts to absolute control. The influ- 
 
PERSONAL RESPOmiBILITY. 85 
 
 ence of parents and teachers, of the ministers 
 and means of Grace, of example, of warnings 
 and exhortations, all act upon man as a mor- 
 al being, — capable of regarding or disregarding 
 them, of receiving or rejecting, and retaining 
 still the power of deciding his actions and charac- 
 ter in his own hands. Even that Omnipotent 
 grace of God, without which man is impotent to 
 do right, respects his freedom and never works 
 upon him in the irresistibleness of its might. He 
 is free to resist, if he will, even the Spirit of Grace; 
 that Spirit, whereby alone he is sealed to the day 
 of Redemption. 
 
 There is something both mysterious and awful 
 in this power. 
 
 It is mysterious. Who can analyze it, or rather 
 who can explain it? It admits of no analysis, and 
 cannot be explained. But it is, nevertheless, a 
 real power; for we are conscious of its exercise. 
 We are conscious that we deliberate and resolve ; 
 that we feel the force of external inducements, 
 and decide whether we will yield to them or not ; 
 and that neither the deliberation of the mind, nor 
 the persuasion of the appetites is the decision. We 
 are conscious that the central power, which con- 
 stitutes ourselves, can decide with or against the 
 dictates of reason, or of passion ; that it can over- 
 ride both argument and motive. What is it ? It 
 is that which is preeminently ourselves; that which 
 gives unity to our being; the very centre of our 
 personality. It is a living power. God has made 
 it so ; and every hour of our conscious existence 
 
86 SERMON IV. 
 
 testifies to the fact. Men may have their theories 
 of the Will, as they have of the Divine essence; 
 hut they come no nearer to understanding it. 
 And because their theories cannot compass it, 
 they may dteny its freedom; but consciousness still 
 testifies to its power, and our moral consciousness 
 to its freedom. It is free or man is not free. 
 
 There is something awful in this power. It can 
 resist the grace of God, and it is the source of hu- 
 man accountability. Throughout the world of 
 nature God wills and it is done. He has written 
 His will in the heart of man ; He has revealed it by 
 Prophets and Apostles, but it is not regarded. Her6 
 is a will which can resist God's. It is left by its 
 Creator to determine for itself, whether at will be 
 in submission to His law or not. 'Eot that it can 
 escape responsibility to His laws, for here its re- 
 sponsibility commences. We do not speak of the 
 responsibility of inanimate things to God, or of 
 those animated beings which have not a reasona- 
 ble will. They obey, for they have no other pow- 
 er. Their law is physical, not moral. If ever 
 they are in a condition not conformed to the or- 
 dinary law of their being it is their misfortune 
 not their fault ; if they suffer for it, their sufferings 
 are not penal. But this power of man to deliber- 
 ate, and then to do or not to do according to his 
 own will, — to look in the face of God's laws, to 
 consider them as His laws, to feel that he is under 
 unavoidable obligations to obey them, and then to 
 obey or disobey consciously at his own free choice, 
 —this constitutes his moral accountability. And 
 
PERSONAL RESPONSIBILITY. 87 
 
 though herewith is connected the highest dignity 
 of man's nature, yet how awful this power. Man 
 is accountable. Upon his actions depend everlast- 
 ing consequences. He is an immortal being. He 
 lives here in a state of probation, he will live here- 
 after an endless life of retribution in happiness or 
 misery, as the deeds of this life shall determine. 
 And this event depends upon himself. " If he is 
 wise, he is wise for himself; if he scorns, he alone 
 shall bear it." God has given to him an individual 
 will, and his accountability is individual. He is 
 master of himself and is therefore accountable for 
 himself. 'So one can absolutely control him, there- 
 fore no one can bear his guilt. 
 
 If man were the creature of circumstances mere- 
 ly, or if the formation of his character and the 
 control of his conduct were wholly in the power 
 of others, then to others, or to circumstances, not 
 to himself, would be attributable the praise or 
 blame of his actions. But it is not so. When a 
 man transgresses the law, and does those things 
 which Conscience tells him are wrong. Conscience 
 also tells him that the guilt is his own. He may 
 have been in unfortunate circumstances, but the 
 act was his. He may have been solicited by 
 others, and for tempting him to sin, they Efre 
 guilty. That was their act, and for that they are 
 accountable. But for yielding to their solicitations 
 he is guilty, not they. He may argue that but for 
 the temptation he should not have done it. l^ever- 
 theless he did it, and though done under the in- 
 fluence of others, the act was free ; his will con- 
 
88 BEBMON IV. 
 
 sented, and he cannot escape the condemnation of 
 his conscience nor of truth. Others may be guilty, 
 hut their guilt does not remove his. The tempta- 
 tion may have been urgent, but it was his duty to 
 have been upon his guard, and that virtue is feeble 
 which can keep the law only when under no temp- 
 tation to transgress it. 
 
 The judgment of God coincides with that of Con- 
 science; and does not relieve the sinner of his 
 guilt, because of the unfavorable circumstances 
 which surrounded him, or the enticements of oth- 
 ers. " The soul that sinneth it shall die." The 
 Holy Scriptures every-where suppose man to be 
 in an unfavorable position for the practice of vir- 
 tue and obedience to the commands of God. They 
 describe him as a fallen being; the World as 
 lying in wickedness, full of evil examples, full of 
 snares ; and that very act of disobedience, " which 
 brought death into the world," as done under the 
 influence of temptation. There is nothing to be 
 complained of in this. If God sets before man a 
 severe duty, he also sets before him an everlasting 
 reward. We sometimes would fain persuade our- 
 selves, that He will not put the loss of everlasting 
 salvation, and the danger of everlasting death, up- 
 on the hazard of man's doubtful obedience. But 
 let us look at it in another light, and ask our- 
 selves whether so great prize is not worth a risk, 
 though a great one, — and a struggle, though a 
 hard one. Let us consider, that by man's self- 
 denial, by his conflict with temptations and his 
 victories over sin, he not only wins the prize, but 
 
PERSONAL RESPONSIBILITY. 89 
 
 prepares himself for its enjoyments, and forms 
 that character without which Heaven itself could 
 bring no happiness. It is God's purpose to be- 
 stow the rewards of the future not upon virtue 
 and piety simply, but upon tried virtue ; and if He 
 suffers us not to be tried beyond that which, if 
 faithful, we shall be able to bear, and proffers His 
 grace to assist our infirmities, we may not com- 
 plain, nay, we may rather rejoice. "We may re- 
 joice in our infirmities, that the power of Christ 
 may rest upon us ; we may rejoice in our hardest 
 struggles, for the greater the victory, the greater 
 the glory which shall be revealed in us. 
 
 Man is too often willing to deceive himself upon 
 this point, and to persuade himself that Heaven 
 is to be had, or the terrors of the future escaped, 
 on easier terms. l^Tay, so little is he in love with 
 its holy joys, that he would consent to abate from 
 the glory of the reward on condition of a more in- 
 dulgent trial. But he cannot escape his personal 
 accountability. He knows the right, and his duty 
 to follow it. He knows the wrong, and his duty 
 to avoid it. He may be surrounded with tempta- 
 tions, but he can resist them. Sinners may entice 
 him, but he is under no necessity of consenting. 
 He has it in himself to determine his course. The 
 Grace of God is ready to aid his weakness, and 
 the countenance of good men to sustain his timid- 
 ity. If he decides against the voice of Conscience, 
 and the commandments of God, what shall free 
 him from guilt ? " If wise, he is wise for himself." 
 His act of obedience sis his own, and none shall 
 
90 SERMON IV. 
 
 take from Mni its fruits. If, on the other hand, 
 "he scorns" the voice of wisdom, and in the 
 madness of his folly chooses the way of death, 
 what shall arrest him in his- choice ? "Whose is the 
 guilt hut his, and who but he shall hear the pun- 
 ishment ? 
 
 It will help our conceptions perhaps, and assist 
 us more fully to apprehend the individuality of 
 man as a personal and accountable agent, if we 
 mark his power of isolation. In the changes and 
 chances of life, you are sometimes thrown into 
 the casual society of persons whom you do not 
 know, but whose appearance excites your interest 
 and awakens your cui'iosity. You may sit by 
 them for hours, but you can hold no communion 
 with them unless they choose. They may have 
 treasures of wisdom locked up within their breasts, 
 — you cannot profit by them without their consent. 
 Their purposes and their plans, their opinions and 
 their feelings, their sorrows and their joys, are 
 completely unknown to you and undiscoverable 
 without their consent. You essay to interest them 
 in some favorite views or projects of your own, 
 but for aught you know, every word you utter 
 may excite prejudice or aversion. You separate, 
 and you know no more of them than of some in- 
 habitant of the Ocean, which emerging from its 
 mysterious depths, comes under your sight for a 
 moment, and then disappears for ever. 
 
 Take another case : One whom you know, as 
 men commonly know each other, and whom, con- 
 nected with you by blood, or placed under your 
 
PERSONAL RESPONSIBILITY. 91 
 
 guidance, you would gladly lead into the way of 
 truth, and form to sentiments and habits of wis- 
 dom and piety. You address him, — ^he hears you, 
 but replies not : You question him, — and he an- 
 swers briefly and coldly, and perhaps evasively ; 
 you cannot induce him to unbosom himself and 
 you feel that you do not know him, that you have 
 established no sympathy with him, that for any 
 influence which you may have, he takes his own 
 way. — Another conceals himself from you by dis- 
 guises, expressing sentiments which he does not 
 feel. — Another rouses himself to resist your influ- 
 ence, your words fall upon deaf ears, your persua- 
 sions upon a stubborn heart. — With another, you 
 have established some sympathetic relationship, 
 — he listens to your suggestions, he yields to 
 your influence, and his character is forming un- 
 der your guidance; but some sudden caprice, 
 some apprehension, perhaps, that he is sacrificing 
 his independence, siezes him, and the door is 
 shut. He is still near you bodily, but he has 
 withdrawn into himself and you cannot reach 
 him. — Such power has every man, when roused 
 to exert it, to separate himself from the influence 
 of others, or the control of circumstances, to iso- 
 late himself, as nothing else in nature can isolate 
 itself from the persons and things around it. 
 
 Every man then is individually accountable. 
 " If he be wise, he is wise for himself; if he scorn, 
 he alone must bear it." 
 
 I. He cannot shift off the guilt of his misdeeds 
 upon others, or excuse the neglect of duty by 
 
92 SERMON JV. 
 
 charging it upon the circumstances in which he 
 has beeia placed. Others may have enticed him, 
 but they did not force him to sin. • Circumstances 
 may have made the practice of virtue difficult, and 
 opened wide before him and filled with allure- 
 ments the way of transgression, but the difficulty 
 was not insuperable, and the facility created no 
 necessity. It is God's appointment that through 
 much tribulation we shall enter into his Kingdom, 
 and the temptations which we would make our apology 
 for transgression are the very methods of our trial. Let 
 us learn the full force of our responsibility, and 
 have the wisdom to know our position as God's 
 creatures, formed by him for a glorious career and 
 for happiness unspeakable ; for a career, however, 
 which is commenced amid trials and temptations 
 to abandon it, and which multitudes do abandon ; 
 and for happiness, to be pursued through the rug- 
 ged way of duty, and which ten-thousand entice- 
 ments, too often successful, would persuade us to 
 forego. Let us form the habit of acting constantly, 
 and on all occasions on the high though stern rule 
 of duty. It is the only one which can lead to 
 safety or to happiness, in a system of things which 
 is under a moral Governor, and ruled by a morcd 
 Law. 
 
 But though upon none others than the soul that 
 sinneth can fall the guilt of its own acts, we are 
 commanded to bear each others burdens, and there 
 are many and weighty responsibilities resting upon 
 men in relation to each other. The parent is un- 
 der fearful responsibilities for his child, the pastor 
 
PERSONAL RESPONSIBILITY. 93 
 
 for his flock, the teacher for his pupils ; and inas- 
 much as it falls in the power of every man to help 
 or hinder his friends and neighbors in the way of 
 righteousness, there is a measure of responsibility 
 of one for another running through the whole 
 community. But our responsibility for others ex- 
 tends only to our own duty. "We are not answer- . 
 able for results which depend on another's will. 
 The heart of the pious parent yearns towards his 
 child, and having first brought him to baptism 
 and made his vows to God for him, he labors 
 and prays, as the child's age opens, for his spirit- 
 ual welfare ; he teaches him the right way, warns 
 him against temptation, and if he incline to evil, 
 entreats him to forsake it that he may live. But 
 after all is done, it may fail ; the vows of baptism 
 may be disregarded, the counsels of the parent 
 scorned, his reproof set at naught, and his entreat- 
 ies contemned. — ^But he has delivered his own 
 soul, and none of the guilt of his child's folly and 
 wickedness can rest upon him. And yet so long 
 as he lives, will he weep and pray in sadness for 
 him, ready to encourage any reviving sense of duty, 
 and with open arms to welcome his return. And 
 when he dies, he will weep for him in the bitter- 
 ness of sorrow, but not of self-reproach. Time 
 will heal a grief that touches not the conscience, 
 and, in the end, the scoruer, who thus in the stub- 
 bornness and pride of his individuality, separated 
 himself from the guide of his youth, will suffer 
 unshared the whole grief and shame of his wick- 
 edness. 
 
94 SERMON IV. 
 
 'No man will be saved by any of his associations 
 or connections in life. He must be " wise for 
 himself." He will not profit by a parent's piety, 
 unless it be the means, by God's blessing, of his 
 own ; nay, like the Gospel of the blessed God, and 
 every means and instrument of Grace, if it be not 
 the savor of life unto life, it will prove to him the 
 savor of death. It will be to no purpose that he 
 is made a member of Christ's body, the Church, — 
 to no purpose that he is in the purest Coriimunion 
 of Saints on earth, and surrounded with the high- 
 est spiritual privileges, — if he attain not that holi- 
 ness whereto they minister, and " without which 
 no man shall see the Lokd." Salvation is individ- 
 ual — Acquittal at the bar of God is individual. It 
 is every man's self that is saved or lost, — and 
 saved or lost on the ground of his individual char- 
 acter in the sight of his Judge. He cannot so 
 identify himself with others, as to escape personal 
 responsibility before God ; and when he stands at 
 the bar of final judgment, with countless multi- 
 tudes of men around him, — each filled with in- 
 tensest hopes or racking fears in expectation of 
 his own everlasting doom, — it* will be in perfect 
 and awful isolation to answer for himself. 
 
 2. But, ( as I have before intimated) this power 
 of man's will, which is the ground of his individ- 
 ual responsibility, is not the whole of the case. 
 Though he can escape the absolute control of others, 
 he needs their aid, and is more or less under their 
 influence. Though circumstances cannot bind him 
 beyond the power of escape, they often do bind 
 
PERSONAL RESPONSIBILITY. 95 
 
 him beyond actual escape. He is weak in the 
 midst of his power, and dependent notwithstand- 
 ing that measure of independence which God has 
 given him as an accountable agent. He needs all 
 that can be done for him in domestic discipline, 
 to control the waywardness of his childhood, to 
 check his innate corruptions, and to train him up 
 in the way he should go ; all that masters can do 
 for him in subjecting his unwilling neck to the 
 yoke of discipline, and training his reluctant pow- 
 ers to useful labor ; all that Religion with its aw- 
 ful sanctions, and its ministers and means of Grace 
 can do, to keep him from following the carnal 
 mind, giving himself to the service and reaping 
 the wages of sin. 
 
 While then it is man's duty to consider well 
 his responsibility, there can be no greater folly than 
 to boast of his independence. He is independent 
 so far as to secure his complete moral aecountar- 
 bility, but not beyond. 
 
 Let him not scorn then the ministries and helps 
 to virtue and piety, which God has provided for 
 him. Let him not scorn the restraints of society, 
 the control of authority, the voice of experience, 
 the advice of friends. Above all, let him not 
 scorn those which are formally established to be 
 the Means of Grace, in this sinful world, — the 
 written Word, — the Church, — its Sacraments and 
 its Ministers. 
 
 Let him humbly remember that he is of a fallen 
 race. Let him reflect upon the power of sin with- 
 in him, and consider that the pride of indepeud- 
 
96 SERMON IV. 
 
 ence throws him off his guard, and under the 
 power of temptation and of the Adversary of souls ; 
 and that so much is the power of his will dimin- 
 ished by the Fall, toward all that is holy, that per- 
 fect obedience is possible to him only by the grace 
 of God. 
 
 Let him remember too, that his independence 
 does not confer rights, but responsibilities ; that 
 it gives him no right to believe other than that 
 which is true, or to do other than that which is 
 commanded. 
 
 Let him remember too, that the power of the 
 will has other limits, arising from the very nature 
 and constitution of man. We cannot change mir 
 characters by a mere volition. Acts are the objects 
 of the will. It reaches the character through acts, 
 and the power of habits which may be formed by 
 repeated acts. One may " resolve and re-resolve, 
 and die the same." And whatever may be his 
 purposes, this will be the brief summing up of his 
 history, if they are not duly carried out in his life. 
 The power of acts to form habits is always opera- 
 ting upon us for good or for evil. By constantly 
 acting in obedience to conscience and the com- 
 mands of God, we are forming habits of virtue and 
 pietj' ; by acting in disregard to duty, habits of 
 vice. Duty is a stern thing. A violation of it in 
 the smallest matter brings inevitable injury to our 
 souls; and the tendency of habit is to overbear 
 even the power of the will, so that whatever may 
 be its original force, its motions towards the good, 
 after a course of wickedness, will be impotent; 
 
PERSONAL RESPONSIBILITY. 97 
 
 and though the will to do the right may be present, 
 how to do it, one may not find. 
 
 Adbkess to the Gkaduating Class. — To all, 
 who are preparing for the duties of life, the trutlis, 
 of which I have now briefly spoken, seem to me 
 to be of the last importance, and for this time pe- 
 culiarly appropriate. Those of you, who are about 
 to leave us, will allow me earnestly and aflfection- 
 ately to press them upon your consideration. You 
 are about to enter upon life under your own guid- 
 ance. If othing can be more important to you, at 
 such a moment, than to reflect seriously upon your 
 individual responsibility. Life is a serious thing, 
 to a being of such powers and capacities as man. 
 It is not mere existence and enjoyment. It is not 
 a mere theatre whereon to strive for place and 
 power. It involves duties, and it issues in ever- 
 lasting punishment or rewards. 
 
 There rests upon each one of you a heavy weight 
 of responsibility, which you cannot devolve upon 
 any others; which you cannot escape by following 
 any party, or any multitude ; and from which no 
 disguises, no shutting of your own eyes, no attempt 
 to blind "others, will ever shield you. You stand 
 before God invested with personality, — and in your 
 personal responsibility for the discharge of your 
 duties to yourselves, to your fellow men, and to 
 Him, will you be pledged. 
 
 But my young friends, though I would impress 
 you with a deep sense of your responsibilities, I 
 would not present a discouraging picture of life. 
 
98 SERMON IV. 
 
 There is a high and difficult duty before you, but 
 there are glorious rewards. The way is rugged, 
 but it leads to Heaven, and the light thereof shines 
 upon it, to those who would walk thereby. "We 
 are weak, but we can do all things thi-ough Christ, 
 which strengtheneth us. 
 
 If we look only upon our duties, our dangers, 
 and our infirmities, and the eternity which lies 
 before us, we may well ask, " who is sufficient for 
 these things ?" But when we consider the. kind 
 providence of God, which so often in unknown 
 ways, aids our infirmities, and His abundant grace 
 in the Gospel of His Son, we may reply, — " every 
 man is sufficient for them, who girds himself to 
 the work in earnestness of spirit, and in humble 
 reliance on Him, who never fails them that put 
 their trust in Him." 
 
 For the guidance of your future course, then, 
 we commend you to God ; and we beseech Him, 
 to make you earnest in the discharge of every 
 duty, and the humble followers of Him, who to all 
 His living members, is wisdom and righteousness 
 and strength. "We have watched your course hith- 
 erto, with many anxieties, and our prayers follow 
 you through the pilgrimage of life. 
 
 And now unto Him, who is able to keep you 
 from falling and to present you faultless before 
 the presence of His glory, with exceeding joy, — 
 to the only wise God our Saviour, be glory and 
 majesty, dominion and power, both now and for- 
 ever : — Amen. 
 
SERMON V. 
 
 THE CHRISTIAN'S VOW AND WARFARE. 
 Heb. xii. 4. " Ye hate not yet resisted unto 
 
 BLOOD, STRIVING AGAINST SIN." 
 
 We are taught, at our very entrance upon the 
 Christian life, that this life is a warfare. When 
 we come to the Font to receive that Sacrament, by 
 which we are incorporated into Christ's hody, the 
 Church, we are made solemnly to promise, in per- 
 son or by our sureties, that we will " renounce the 
 devil and all his works, the vain pomp and glory 
 of the world, with all covetous desires of the same, 
 and the sinful desires of the flesh." And after the 
 soletnn words of consecration have been pronoun- 
 ced, the significant sign of the cross is made upon 
 our foreheads, "in token that we shall not be 
 ashamed to confess the faith of Christ crucified, 
 and manfully to fight under his banner, against 
 ein, the world, and the devil; and to continue 
 Christ's faithful soldier and servant unto our life's 
 end." 
 
 The word Sacrament signified among the Ro- 
 mans an oath, and especially the oath taken by 
 Soldiers upon their entering the military service ; 
 and hence it was adopted by Christian writers." to 
 signify Baptism and the Lord's Supper, as being 
 
100 SEBMON V. 
 
 two solemn oaths or engagements into which 
 Chritstians enter to Christ, the Captain of their 
 faith." "We enter then at our Baptism upon a 
 warfare. "We become Christ's soldiers, and in a 
 solemn of&ce we take our oath of allegiance and 
 fidelity. 
 
 "What is the meaning of all this ? Is there reali- 
 ty in it, or is it a mere imposing ceremony ? Are 
 there indeed enemies against which we must con- 
 tend, and contend earnestly, in the pursuit of our 
 own salvation and our Master's service? Or is 
 this all mere allegory, figuring to us, in the warmth 
 of Eastern fancy, some sober truth, important 
 indeed, but beginning and ending in our own 
 inward life ? 
 
 I. These enemies are named, in the office of 
 Baptism, — the Devil, — the "World, — the Flesh. 
 
 1. The first of these is often spoken of in Holy 
 ' Scripture as the great Enemy of man's salvation, 
 and of the kingdom of Christ. Christians are ex- 
 horted by St Peter, to " be sober, and vigilant, be- 
 cause their adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, 
 walketh about, seeking whom he may devour;" 
 " He beguiled Eve through his subtilty," as St 
 Paul tells us; and he expresses his fear lest his 
 Corinthian converts should be corrupted through 
 the influence of the same false spirit, "from the sim- 
 plicity that is in Christ." The same Apostle ex- 
 presses the same anxiety for his Thessalonian dis- 
 ciples. " For this cause," says he, " when I could 
 no longer forbear, I sent to know your faith, lest 
 
THE CHRISTIAN'S VOW AND WARFARE. 101 
 
 by some means, the tempter have tempted you, 
 and our labour be in vain." 
 
 Both these great Apostles had learned spiritual 
 wisdom in the school of experience, as well as by 
 the immediate inspiration of God, and they were 
 not ignorant of the devices of Satan. 
 
 Peter had met the great Adversary of souls in 
 the weakness of self-confidence, and had fallen, 
 though not beyond the reach of that omnipotent 
 Saviour who suffered him to fall, that he might 
 rise again and learn thereby the salutary lesson of 
 his own weakness. 
 
 Paul also had a messenger of Satan to buffet 
 him, and through continual temptation to impa- 
 tience under his infirmity, he learned to watch and 
 be sober, and to put others on their guard against 
 the wiles of the long practiced adversary of man. 
 
 "We have many instances of his devices on rec- 
 ord for our instruction. 
 
 He tempted our first parents, through the desire 
 of higher knowledge; — he tempted David, in a 
 moment of vain-glorious elation at the prosperity 
 ■ of his Kingdom, to number his people, and thereby 
 to offend Him in whom alone was his strenffth ; 
 — he tempted Judas through his sordid cupidity, 
 — Peter through his self confidence, — Ananias 
 through his desire to make a fair shew of Christian 
 zeal in the eyes of the Apostles, while he grudged 
 the cost. The early Christians were in general 
 tempted to swerVe from their steadfastness, through 
 their manifold trials and sufferings brought upon 
 them by their Christian profession. From the 
 
102 SERMON V. 
 
 hearts of careless hearers the same false spirit is 
 said to " take away the word that is sown in them." 
 He is called the Deceiver of the " whole world," 
 and is douhtless a perfect master of the strategy of 
 mischief. "We know not the secret of his power 
 or the manner of his working, we know not how 
 he can gain access to the minds of men, and we 
 may easily raise questions on these points which 
 we cannot answer; and if we choose to assume that 
 the limit of our knowledge is the limit of all being 
 and all power, we may at once deny, as many have 
 done, the existence of evil Spirits and their influ- 
 ence over weak and sinful men. It is the tenden- 
 cy of the age. Much as our Lord and his Apostles 
 admonish us of the subtilty, the vigilance and the 
 power of our adversary, we overlook it all. "We 
 do not see the danger, and we do not fear it. This, 
 doubtless, is one of his own wiles. He hides his 
 snares, that we may the more easily be caught. 
 If we would be safe, however, we must recognize 
 the danger and prepare ourselves for our defence, 
 not by our own wisdom, but by His who has made 
 it known to us. " Put on," says one of His Apos- 
 tles, " the whole armour of God, that ye may be 
 able to stand against the wiles of the Devil; for we 
 wrestle not with flesh and blood, but against prin- 
 cipalities, against powers, against the rulers of the 
 darkness of this world, against spiritual wieked- 
 ,ness in high places. Wherefore take unto you the 
 whole armour of God, that ye may be able to with- 
 stand in the evil day." No language can more 
 (Clearly express, not only the real existence, but the 
 
THE CHEISTIAN'8 VOW AND WARFARE. 103 
 
 dangerous character, of this enemy. And what 
 is this armour of Gob ? The loins must be girt 
 about with truth; the heart defended with a breast- 
 plate of righteousness ; and the feet shod with the 
 preparation of the Gospel of peace. Above all we 
 must take the shield "of faith, — that hearty and 
 unwavering belief in GrOD, and what he hath taught 
 us, " wherewith we may quench the fiery darts," 
 the subtle insinuations, the honeyed falsehoods, 
 the specious doubtings, " of the wicked One." 
 Then there is " the sword of the spirit which is 
 the word of God," and the persevering prayer, 
 and the watching thereunto. Truly one clad in 
 this armour and accustomed to it, may stand upon 
 his guard against any enemy of his soul, certain 
 that none can harm him however stealthy his ap- 
 proach. He may use it against unseen as well as 
 visible enemies. The weapons of it are not carnal. 
 They are the M^eapons of a spiritual warfare, and 
 mighty through God. 
 
 2. The next enemy is the World, I need say 
 but a few words in setting it forth. It is more 
 distinctly in view than that spiritual adversary 
 just spoken of, and if we please, more readily rec- 
 ognized. 
 
 Its " pomps and vanities" tempt us to forget the 
 work of our salvation. Its pleasures engage our 
 aftections and soil our spirits. Its maxims corrupt 
 our principles, and its examples embolden us in 
 transgression. "We renounce it in our Baptism, 
 but it has its hold upon our hearts, and the prom- 
 ise is not the whole of the battle. The World 
 
104 SERMON V. 
 
 entered into no engagement not to allure us, but 
 we not to follow it. It approaches us through a 
 thousand avenues, and we must be perpetually on 
 our guard. It comes to us with the offer of pleas- 
 ure, gain and distinction, and we must arm our- 
 selves with the stern habit of self-denial, and un- 
 yielding obedience to our higher calling. It is 
 ever present and every day must have its conflict. 
 
 Plain however as our duty would seem to be in 
 regard to the World, its pomps, its vanities and its 
 pleasures, our " fleshly wisdom" finds many excep- 
 tions, sees no harm in this indulgence, no use in 
 that restriction ; and though the duty stands still 
 on the statute-book, and the renunciation on the 
 record, we who call ourselves Christians are found 
 too often to dress as gaily, to be as free and as ex- 
 pensive in our amusements, as narrow in our char- 
 ities, as sharp and unscrupulous in our bargains, 
 and as eager in the pursuit of honors and distinc- 
 tions, as the children of disobedience. "We have 
 achieved as we flatter ourselves, that which Christ 
 pronounced impossible, the recoijciling of the love 
 of the World with the love of the Father, and it 
 remains to see whether the final judgment of God 
 will sanction our casuistry. 
 
 3. The third enemy is the Flesh. We are be- 
 ings of a double nature, and " the flesh lusteth 
 against the spirit, and the spirit against the flesh, 
 ajid these are contrary the one to the other." 
 
 The flesh is of the earth, and its desires are 
 earthly. The spirit is of celestial origin and its 
 uncorrupted yearnings are for heavenly things. 
 
THE CHRISTIAN'S VOW AND WARFARE. 105 
 
 Its business is to elevate itself to a formed and 
 matured character of virtue and piety, under the 
 trials and temptations of an earthly residence and 
 a sensual body, — ^to fit itself for its home in heaven, 
 and so to subdue the body to the rules of an holy 
 life, and to sympathy v?ith its own spiritual hopes 
 and joys, — that when by the final change from 
 natural to spiritual, the body becomes fitted for en- 
 teri];ig the unseen world as the vehicle of its spirit- 
 ual tenant, they may rise together to a glorious 
 immortality. It is the destiny of the spirit that, as 
 it resides here in a mortal body, so shall it, in its 
 eternal state, reside in the same rendered immor- 
 tal ; and the issue of their contest here will decide 
 their common condition hereafter. 
 
 The body has its appetites and is urgent for 
 their gratification. It is at home and surrounded 
 with all the means of indulgence. The spirit in 
 this world is a stranger in a strange land, and but 
 dimly conscious of its higher being and expecta- 
 tions. By its alliance with the body it has come 
 into sympathy with it, and rejoices in its joys; 
 and in their mutual struggle for the ascendency, 
 if it be not the conqueror it is the conquered, — ^its 
 high powers become ministers to the fiesh, its lofty 
 hopes are surrendered, it is sordid in its desires, 
 sordid in its aims, sordid in its expectations. The 
 contest has gone against it, and it is lost. It sows 
 to the fiesh and of the flesh reaps corruption. 
 
 The conflict of the flesh and spirit is one in 
 which there is no rest. The combatants are ever 
 tace to face, and the one or the other is ever gain- 
 
106 SERMON V. 
 
 ing ground. Never does the spirit yield its right- 
 ful power of control even for a moment, never 
 does it suffer the flesh in a forbidden pleasure 
 however slight, but it gives advantage to its 
 adversary; and never on the other hand does it 
 compel the body to yield its gratifications to the 
 obligations of duty, but it gains strength for its 
 future conflicts. 
 
 Such, then, are the Enemiep with which we are 
 brought into contention, the foes of God and of 
 our own souls, which we are called upon so solemn- 
 ly to renounce at our entrance upon the Christian 
 life. It is to be remembered that the Church calls 
 us to this solemn renunciation, because she knows, 
 and would teach us to know and to remember, 
 that we are by nature children of wrath, in allegi- 
 ance to these very enemies of God and Man ; and 
 that their strength, in their warfare against our 
 souls, lies in the corruption of our own natures. 
 
 n. How far, now, are we called upon to resist 
 these Enemies ? What is the point to which we 
 must carry on our warfare with them, and at 
 which we may lay aside our weapons and shake 
 hands? The asking of the question answers it. 
 "With such Enemies there can be no limit to the 
 contest but victory. It is not for a point of honor, 
 it is not to shew our courage to others, nor to give 
 ourselves the comfortable assurance that we are 
 men of spirit. It is for life or death. If we pre- 
 vail, we gain a glorious Crown ; if we yield, we 
 become the captives of Satan, and fall into the 
 bondage of Sin and Death. 
 
TEE CHRISTIAN'S VOW AND WARFARE. 107 
 
 It IB no holiday sport, — the war which these 
 Enemies wage against us. They may choose to 
 cheat us with gaieties, but their aim is the destruc- 
 tion, of soul and body in hell, and this end they 
 relentlessly pursue. Every step they take is to- 
 wards it, and eveiy inch we yield, in any part of 
 the battle, is in the same direction. 
 
 And what is the method of their warfare ? They 
 seek to ijiduee us to sin against God, to do the 
 things which we ought not to do, and to leave un- 
 done the things which we ought to do. They 
 tempt us to indulge in forbidden gratifications, 
 and to make the heart worldly and sensual in its 
 affections. They tempt us to remissness in duty, 
 magnifying every obstacle in the way of its per- 
 formance; suggesting to us, or encouraging the 
 suggestions of our own hearts, that it is not of 
 such importance as never to be omitted,— and that 
 we can make up for the present omission by great- 
 er punctuality at another time, — and that though 
 it is not well to omit it, yet our engagements are 
 pressing, and we cannot attend to it without a 
 sacrifice. How manjj^ times do men put their 
 hands in their pockets to give to the cause of God 
 and of charity, and then draw them- out empty, 
 because the pittance they would give might cost 
 them the sacrifiee of some little gratification ; how 
 many times do they neglect the public worship of 
 God, from some slight illness, from uncomfortable 
 weather, or the crowding of some of the last week's 
 business upon the day of rest; little thinking that 
 these are suggestions of the Adversaries of our 
 
108 SERMON V. 
 
 souls, and that they are then making a move, and 
 it maj'^ be an important one, in the contest of life 
 and death. 
 
 They tempt ns, through the little vexations of 
 life, and the perverseness of others, to soil our 
 spirits and offend our Master by fretfulness and 
 the outbreaks of temper, and would make us re- 
 gard the occasion as a full excuse. They tempt 
 us to sin with our tongues against the reputation 
 of others, and would make us think we had done 
 only our duty in speaking against the wicked. 
 
 Satan and the carnal mind are always at hand 
 to settle for us our cases of conscience. Whether 
 they will settle them so as to secure our peace 
 with God, or so resolve our doubts and counsel 
 our practice, as to further us in the divine life or 
 in bringing our members into captivity to the will 
 of Christ, judge ye. We maj' always believe them 
 to be of the counsel, when we find ourselves gloss- 
 ing over an offence, or arguing in favor of an 
 omission of duty ; and always at hand when we 
 find a struggle between the will and the sense of 
 duty. And whenever we yield to their temptation, 
 and sin' in whatever way, we give them an advan- 
 tage which will help on to their final victory. 
 
 The contest which we have to carry on with the 
 Adversaries of our souls may be a difficult one. 
 " We wrestle not with flesh and blood, but against 
 principalities and powers" says St Paul in ref- 
 erence to one of them ; and in reference to 
 another, he utters the exclamation, " wretched 
 man that I am, who shall deliver me from the body 
 
TEE CHRISTIAN'S VOW AND WARFARE. 109 
 
 of this death." It is a difficult contest. It re- 
 quires vigilance. It requires the denial of our pas- 
 sions and appetites. It requires the subjection of 
 our high thoughts and ambitious designs to the 
 commands of GrOD. It requires the sacrifice of our 
 interest to our duty, and the maintedaance of our 
 integrity towards God and Man, at whatever haz- 
 ard of ease, or possessions, or of life itself. 
 
 But however difficult, it is not impracticable. 
 There are none of our enemies whom we may not 
 overcome, by that omnipotent Grace of God, which 
 is promised in measure sufficient for all his ser- 
 vants. 
 
 If we resist the Devil he will flee from us. And 
 a habit of self-denial, formed by a consistent obe- 
 dience to the commands of God, will make it easy 
 to repel the temptations of the World and the Flesh. 
 
 The Christian is no where promised by his dy- 
 ing Master an easy victory over his spiritual ene- 
 mies, nor taught to expect an easy road to Heav- 
 en. He is admonished that in the world he shall 
 have tribulation, and is exhorted to be of good 
 cheer, because the Captajn of his salvation has 
 overcome the world, and will give him the victory 
 also, if he faithfully follow him and fight manfully 
 under his banner. He is admonished not to think 
 it strange concerning even fiery trials, as though 
 some strange thing had happened unto him, but 
 to rejoice, inasmuch as he is thereby a partaker of 
 Christ's sufiferings that when His glory shall be re- 
 vealed, he also may be glad with exceeding joy. 
 He is encouraged to glory in tribulation, because 
 
110 SERMON V. 
 
 "tribulation worketh patience;" and he is told 
 that " blessed is the man that endureth temptation, 
 for when he is tried he shall receive the crown of 
 life ;" and in the glorious vision of the Apocalyp- 
 tic seer, he learns that " they which stand before 
 the throne ari^yed in white robes, are they which 
 have come out of great tribulation, and have 
 washed their robes and made them white in the 
 blood of the Lamb." He is surrounded by a great 
 crowd of witnesses, of those who " had trials of 
 cruel mockings and scourgings, of bonds and im- 
 prisonments, who were stoned, were sawn asunder, 
 were tempted, were slain with the sword, who were 
 tortured not accepting deliverance, that they might 
 obtiiin a better resurrection;" and he is directed to 
 look to his Lord and Master, and great Exemplar, 
 and " consider how He endured the contradiction 
 of sinners against Himself," lest he be weary and 
 faint in his mind. 
 
 Here then we have the true answer to the ques- 
 tion, how far are we to resist sin; and we learn 
 that the phrase " unto blood" needs no softening. 
 
 The war against sin, as it assails the Christian 
 from without, is one in which there must be no 
 truce, and one never ended but with life. The 
 war against it, as it assails him from within, is 
 one of extermination. The Christian can aim at 
 nothing less than entire freedom from sin, and 
 though he may not expect it so long as he is inves- 
 ted with a mortal body, he must make no com- 
 promises. 
 
 This subject, my friends, is deeply practical, 
 
THE CHRISTIAN'S VOW AND WARFARE. Ill 
 
 and it would be useful to us to meditate much 
 on those heroic disciples of old, who preferred 
 suffering to sin, and death to a stain upon their 
 escutcheon, as the soldiers of Christ. We live in 
 times unlike theirs, but I fear we are more unlike 
 them. From the IS'ew Testament one would gather 
 that Christianity is a religion of self-denial, and 
 the life of a Christian one of struggle and eudur^ 
 ance ; and the crowd of witnesses, " the blessed 
 company of the Apostles" and " the noble army 
 of Martyrs," and all in whom the power of the 
 Gospel has shone out with great lustre, have 
 testified the same. But we look abrouJ almost in 
 vain to find self-denial among ourselves. Here 
 and there we may detect one \\\io is making sac- 
 rifices for Christ, denying himself tliat he may 
 assist others, and in weariness and painfulness 
 laboring to do tlie will of God ; here and there 
 one who is faithful and patient in the midst of 
 affliction , and working out his salvation with fear 
 and trembling. But in general, Christianity seems 
 to involve no trials, no self-denying, no mortifica- 
 tion of the flesh, no watchfulness against tempta- 
 tion, no fasting, no special earnestness of prayer. 
 
 It is one of the maxims of our times that God 
 delights to see his creatures happy, and we would 
 fain persuade ourselves that our duty need never 
 conflict with our ease nor our interest ; that our 
 charities need never trench upon our convenience, 
 our efforts at subjecting the body upon the free 
 enjoyment of the comforts of life, nor our renunci- 
 ation of the world upon our free enjoyment of its 
 honors and its good will. 
 
112 SERMON V. 
 
 If the testimony of God be true, we must be 
 under some illusion, and it is necessary for us to 
 be more earnest in our piety, more strenuous in 
 our obedience, than such reasonings would sup- 
 pose. There is meaning in the solemn renuncia- 
 tion of the pomp and vanity of the world, and the 
 sinful desires of the flesh, and we must discover it 
 and act upon it. There is self-denial to be practiced 
 in keeping the commandments of God, notwith- 
 standing that therein is our happiness and our life, 
 and we must cheerfully practice, not seek to avoid 
 it. Christ's " yoke is easy" but it is still a yoke, 
 — " His burden is light" but it is still a burden ; 
 and the former is " easy" only to those who have 
 submitted their wills to His will, and the latter 
 " light" to those only who have learned to bear it, 
 and who love Him and His service with all their 
 hearts. Human nature is the same now that it 
 has ever been since the Fall. No Age conquers 
 sin and subdues the infirmities of the flesh, for that 
 Age which follows it ; and whatever the progress 
 of Civilization and of Society, it only varies the 
 character of the dangers and trials of the Christian 
 life ; it does not remove them, nor render watch- 
 fulness and self-discipline and the determination to 
 resist sin even unto blood, less necessary. The 
 want of any very palpable dangers, and the habits 
 of an age busy with physical improvements, and 
 rejoicing in its success in multiplying and cheap- 
 ening the comforts and luxuries of life, are favor- 
 able to this reduced tone of Christian obedience ; 
 and if God in mercy did not sometimes send us 
 
TEE CHRISTIAN'S VOW AND WARFARE. 113 
 
 afflictions and sufferings which we cannot escape, 
 to discipline us to something higher than a fair- 
 weather piety, it is to be feared that much of that 
 religious profession so common and so fair in its 
 own eyes, would in the trial of the great day be 
 found wanting. We need trials to teach us what 
 is in us. We need sharp and severe discipline to 
 bring us to a sober and settled recollection. We 
 need to have our purposes crossed and our plans 
 defeated, to bring down our high thoughts, and 
 make us submit to God, and cheerfully to obey 
 Him, without objecting our wishes or our reasons. 
 The disease of our nature is desperate and requires 
 severe remedies, and God, as a kind Father, does 
 not refrain from giving them because they are 
 bitter. 
 
 Let us then learn to take patiently the trials of 
 life, and to consider seriously and earnestly its 
 duties. Its trials will come in the course of God's 
 good providence. Its duties we must seek for. 
 They are every-day matters. They are what we 
 must every day do and refrain from doing, in the 
 way of our own religious improvement, in refer- 
 ence to our fellow-men, in the discharge of the 
 trusts which God may have committed to us, and 
 for the promotion of His glory and of His cause 
 in the world ; — and we must remember that obedi- 
 ence, even unto death, if need be, is the way to the 
 crown of life. 
 
SERMON VI. 
 
 THE INVISIBLE EEALIZED BY FAITH. 
 
 Hbb. xi. 27. '"For he endtjebd as seeing Him 
 Who is invisible." 
 
 The Invisible is one of the titles commonly 
 affixed in the Holy Scripture to the name of God, 
 and by which He is presented to man. He is the 
 "invisible God;" — "the King eternal, immortal 
 and invisible." 
 
 It is a term which intimates His spiritual nature, 
 and places Him in contrast with the visible forms 
 of the universe and other objects of idolatrous 
 worship. He is invisible to mortal eyes. He 
 dwelleth in the light which no man can approach 
 unto. N"o man hath seen Him nor can see. 
 
 God has, however, sometimes manifested Him- 
 self by a visible appearance, — as when He shewed 
 Himself in the burning bush to Moses, when He 
 testified His presence to the camp of Israel by the 
 fiery pillar and the cloud, to the worshippers in 
 the Jewish temple by the Shekinah. 
 
 But these visible appearances .were not God, 
 although they manifested His presence, an.l be- 
 came to the weak in faith and to the dull in spir- 
 itual perception, signs of His merciful regar t. 
 
THE INVISIBLE REALIZED B Y FAITH. 115 
 
 'Sov is it to these, that the Apostle refers in the 
 text, when he speaks of Moses as " seeing Him 
 "Who is invisible." It doubtless strengthened the 
 faith of this " man of God," that he had seen the 
 miracle of the burning bush; and though he may 
 not have needed it as a help to his spiritual dis- 
 cernment of God, as the invisible Maker of all 
 things, the Judge of all men, — he did need it to 
 satisfy his meek spirit, that he was chosen to be 
 the leader of God's people; and if doubt ever 
 assailed him or darkness came over his faith in 
 God, amid his trials and hardships, doubtless the 
 remembrance of the visible glories of the awful 
 Presence came up to strengthen his heart, as he 
 proclaimed the message of the Invisible to the 
 unbelieving Pharaoh, or enforced His worship 
 and obedience to His laws upon the stiff-necked 
 Israelites. 
 
 Moses saw the " invisible." He saw something 
 more than the flame, which so marvellously envel- 
 oped without consuming the bush, more than the 
 luminous glory which guided the camp of Israel. 
 He saw Him with the eye of his own invisible 
 spirit. He saw Him as the Maker and informing 
 Soul of this wonderful creation ; saw Him as the 
 power and the cause, in which all things live and 
 the course of all events moves on ; saw Him as the 
 object of all worship and religious fear, as the 
 moral Governor and the final Judge of all men, 
 and as the gracious and merciful God, and present 
 help of those who trust in Him. He saw Him, as 
 we may see Him. For though invisible to mortal 
 
116 BERMON VI. 
 
 eyes, He may be " spiritually discerned." " The 
 fool may say in his heart there is no God," and 
 the wicked, through the pride of his countenance, 
 may not seek after Him. The man of fleshly 
 wisdom may profess that he cannot see Him, — and 
 He may be hidden from him who looks only at 
 things visible, and satisfies himself with the pleas- 
 ures and possessions of the present world. "We 
 have a fearful capacitj'^ of seeing or not seeing God 
 as we may choose, and it involves a fearful respon- 
 sibility. Though we live and move and have our 
 being in Him, — though He be not far from every 
 one of us, — nay though He be nearer to us than 
 any other being, the very life of our life, and 
 strength of our strength, — we may pass on through 
 life forgetful of His presence, and that there is any 
 thing more real or substantial than the visible 
 things which are cheating us with their illusions. 
 Multitudes do it, nay nothing is more common 
 than this living without God in the world. 
 
 But we are not all of the earth, earthy. There 
 is a spirit in man, and if it listen, it may hear the 
 footsteps of the Deity, as He moves in the cool 
 breeze, — if it look, it will see Him. It may feel 
 the sustaining and comforting power of His pres- 
 ence, it may lean upon Him and gather strength ; 
 It may fly to Him for succor in the hour of need, 
 for support in trial, for protection in danger, and 
 it will find Him " a very present help." " I have 
 set the Lord always before me," said the holy 
 Psalmist, " He is on my right hand, therefore I 
 shall not fall." 
 
THE INVISIBLE REALIZED BY FAITH. 117 
 
 "We live, or perhaps I should say are fitted by 
 nature to live, in two states — a state of reflection 
 and a state of sensation. We may make our home 
 in the one or in the other. "We may have our life 
 wholly in this world, busy ourselves with no other 
 cares than heaping around us its possessions and 
 its comforts, looking for no other honors and no 
 other satisfactions but such as it can confer, and 
 feelinsr the obligation of no other duties but such 
 as result from our relations to society and to other 
 men. And thus living we shall incur no censure 
 from the world, — nay, if we are successful, be 
 thought worthy of its commendations though our 
 life would be totally without God, and such as an 
 Atheist might live. 
 
 On the other hand, though we cannot get beyond 
 the necessities of our physical condition, till we 
 are emancipated from the bondage of mortality, 
 yet the life we lead in the flesh may be by the faith 
 of God. "We may accustom ourselves to " set God 
 always before us," to refer to Him in every act of 
 our life, to measure our conduct not by our own 
 wishes or the opinions of the world but by His 
 will, to seek the praise which comes from Him, 
 the wealth not of this world but of another and 
 better, and the happiness not of physical enjoy- 
 jnent, but of communing with Him. 
 
 "Would such a life be less real than the other ? 
 Not unless God is less real than the visible and 
 material world, not unless the soul is less real than 
 the body. It was such a life that Moses lived. 
 Introduced as an adopted son into the palace of 
 
118 SERMON VI. 
 
 Egypt, and blessed with an intellect of wonderful 
 perspicacity and force, what was there within the 
 scope of ambition which he might not have aimed 
 at, what indulgence in which he might not have 
 gratified himself to the full? And if he had made 
 himself Egypt's monarch, impressed his character 
 upon her institutions, and erected a pyramid for 
 his monument. History would have commended 
 the fortunate child of captivity and applauded his 
 sagacity and talent. And had he not gained fame 
 in another way, though it was the last thing he 
 sought for, she would, perhaps, if she had at all 
 preserved his memory, have censured him as a 
 driveller, for refusing " when he came to years, to 
 be called the son of Pharaoh's daughter." 
 
 But who of us would so esteem him ? Who of 
 us will not admit that he chose the better and the 
 wiser part? "What Christian does not look with 
 admiration on the man, who abandoned the pleas- 
 ures and distinctions of a court to share the re- 
 proaches and the fortunes of a captive people ? 
 What man does not feel that his kind has been 
 honored in the life of one, whe bore the toils but 
 rose above the temptations of power, — the ruler 
 and leader, who forgetting himself and his family, 
 forgetting almost the passions and infirmities of 
 humanity, labored to the end of his weary life,» 
 against the discouragements of unreasonable and 
 ungrateful tempers? The secret of the eminent 
 virtue of this great man is given us in the text, 
 — " He endured as seeing Him Who is invisible." 
 He lived by faith, not by sight. He lived that 
 
THE INVISIBLE REALIZED BY FAITH. 119 
 
 higher life, which every man may live by the grace 
 of God ; and he is an eminent example to shew us 
 that man may live to God while he lives to man, 
 and, in the daily and hourly discharge of duties, 
 the most arduous and exhausting, never forget his 
 obligations to his Maker. ]S"ay, as the trials and 
 labors which befel him were all sustained by a 
 deep sense of his duty to God, and of the Divine 
 presence, they were all acts of faith, and strong 
 motions proceeding from and invigorating the 
 higher life. 
 
 I. This higher life then is no un-realiiy. It must 
 have been something of unquestionable power, 
 which operated on the mind of the Jewish Law- 
 giver, to entice him from everything which in the 
 wisdom of the world is of great price, and to 
 sustain him in forty years banishment in Midian, 
 and forty years of sojourn in the desert, in training 
 a race of bondmen to be the people of God and the 
 depositary of His laws. Was it fanaticism ? Calmer 
 reason never dwelt in the bosom of man, than in 
 his. Never was code of laws proclaimed for the 
 government of a people, more complete and better 
 adapted to the times and the people, than that 
 which goes under his name ; and the brief sum- 
 mary of the Moral law, which we have received 
 through him, in 3000 years has never been im- 
 proved. His writings betray no excitement of the 
 imagination, he uses the utmost plainness and 
 directness of speech. His intercourse with the 
 Deity was not in visions nnd in dreams, and the 
 
120 SERi^ON VI. 
 
 Divine message through Hira was not covered 
 with mystic symbols nor veiled in mystic language. 
 God said, "with Him I will speak mouth to mouth, 
 even apparently, and not in dark speeches." The 
 revelation made to Moses, was not addressed to his 
 imagination but to his intellect, and in conveying it 
 to men he addresses not their imagination but 
 their understanding, and it is to this day regarded 
 by the learned Jews as the highest, because the 
 clearest, form of revelation. But why need we ask 
 if he was a fanatic or an enthusiast. He did noth- 
 ing which was not reasonable, men themselves 
 being judges; and no man has received more 
 reverence from his fellow-men. He believed in 
 God, and he obeyed Him. He was accustomed to 
 look to God, and he placed a wiser estimate than 
 men generally do upon the pleasures and honors of 
 the world. He believed in another life, and looked 
 for the recompense of the reward, and was willing 
 to discharge his religious duties in self-denial. 
 He was too much practiced in spiritual discern- 
 ment, not to see the folly of preferring the treasures 
 of Egypt even to the reproach of Christ, or of choos- 
 ing the pleasures of sin for a season, though the 
 alternative must be affliction with the people of 
 God. We are all wise enough to see that there 
 was sufficient ground f )r his choice, and that he 
 was right and prudent in making it, though we 
 may not have wisdom enough to make a similar 
 choice for ourselves. We all believe that there is 
 a reality in that life which man lives to God, and 
 not to sensuality and the world ; for we all believe 
 
THE INVISIBLE REALIZED BY FAITH. 121 
 
 .that there is a soul to be saved everlastingly, and a 
 God to be loved reverenced and obeyed. And if 
 we turn our thoughts to these great subjects, when 
 we have been miserably cheated by the expectation 
 of worldly good, and found the happiness we 
 coveted to be only sorrow, and the possessions to 
 be mere gilded poverty, leaving the heart unenrich- 
 ed and unsatisfied, we shall perceive that they are 
 not only real, but the only real. "Who now would 
 rather have been Pharaoh, than Moses in poverty ? 
 The wealth, the pomp, the luxury, which once 
 delighted, have all gone down to the dust, but the 
 honest and faithful doing and endurance of God's 
 will, lives and ever will live before the Eternal 
 throne. 
 
 This higher life, this life of the soul, this life 
 which is " hidden with Christ in God," is real. It 
 is full of real satisfaction and joy here, and full of 
 promise hereafter. It has power over the tempta- 
 tions of the world, over sorrow, and over death. 
 It has a vigor which brings it out into higher 
 brilliancy and beauty under trials and suiferings. 
 N"ay, the strength which the Christian derives 
 from above is made perfect in weakness, and, with 
 the Apostle, he learns to glory in his infirmities, 
 that the power of Christ may rest upon him. 
 
 n. It is real then, not only to angels, but to 
 men, and therefore it is possible to men. 
 
 I need not argue this point. The virtues of 
 Moses, although inspired and sustained by the 
 grace of God, and extraordinary in measure, were 
 
122 SERMON VI. 
 
 yet the virtues of a man, — perfectly intelligible to 
 us, within the range of our sympathy, and such as 
 we feel that we might practice if we had but his 
 living faith in GrOD. 
 
 III. But if real and possible we may yet deem a 
 life of i&\Xh. inexpedient and unprofitable, under the 
 apprehension that if it should flourish to any great 
 extent, it would interfere with the duties which 
 men owe to the world. 
 
 But is it so ? The life of G-od in the soul of man, 
 will undoubtedly diminish his love for the world, 
 for its riches and pleasures, — will make him inde- 
 pendent, in a measure, of its hopes and its joys. It 
 will remove him in a measure from the sympathy 
 of those whose life is wholly in the world. But 
 will it make him less useful or less practical ? If it 
 induces him to neglect the pleasures of this world, 
 will it the duties ? Does it not develop itself in a 
 higher and more conscientious regard to duty? 
 Does it not make him more kind, moi'e laborious 
 in doing good, more self-denying, more self-sacri- 
 ficing? His object here is not pleasure nor ease nor 
 honor. Neither of them therefore can turn him 
 aside, as they turn too many aside, from uninvit- 
 ing duties. The weariness and painfulness, through 
 which the duties of life must sometimes be pursued, 
 only invigorate the inward life ; and to the truly 
 spiritual mind, therefore, they give vabie to these 
 duties. 
 
 The world is the common arena of all its inhab- 
 itants. It is the sphere of the Christian's duties, 
 
THE INVISIBLE REALIZED BY FAITH. 123 
 
 as well as of the worldly man's follies. It is here 
 he lives to God, as well as the other to himself. 
 If the one finds trials, the other finds disappoin1> 
 ments. It is a discipline to both, to the one — o± 
 life, to the other — of death. 
 
 The Christian lives to God by keeping His com- 
 mandments; and a great part of these concern 
 his duties to his fellow-men. 
 
 He is to become like God, and that, as our 
 Saviour tells us, by imitating His benevolence, — 
 blessing those that curse him, and doing good to 
 those that hate him, even as He is kind to the evil 
 and unthankful, and sends His rain upon the just 
 and upon the unjust. 
 
 The Christian is to overcome the world, not by 
 reti-eating from it, but on proper occasions facing 
 it, and exerting the power of his faith in with- 
 standing its temptations, and resisting its assaults. 
 
 He is to overcome himself, not himself quiescent 
 only, bui active; for in retirement and repose he 
 never meets his whole self. He must learn to be 
 patient, not only in solitude, but amidst actual 
 sufiferings and reproaches ; full of charity, not only 
 in his retired thoughts and wishes, but amidst 
 provocations, and when charity seems an unde- 
 served gratuity; and he must learn to be pure, not 
 only when out of the way of temptation, but to 
 attain a purity which temptation cannot assail. 
 
 The real higher life of the Christian cannot 
 then be intelligently cultivated without profit to 
 the world, and our Saviour truly said to His disci- 
 ples, that they were " the salt of the earth." They 
 
124 SERMON VI. 
 
 are its salt, profitable to it so. long, and only so 
 long as they retain their savor. Of what value 
 is he to the world, who while he is in it does no 
 more than study his own comfort and provide for 
 his own wants ? He may leave it without being 
 missed. He has filled up a gap, which any com- 
 mon earth may fill. 
 
 From the Christian the world expects more. It 
 expects that, touched with the benevolence of 
 Him "Who has imparted to him His own Spirit, he 
 will se,ek the good of others as a cherished end of 
 living, and look for his own wealth and happiness 
 in the wealth and happiness of others. The 
 Christian's is a public soul. His life is in God, a 
 life of faith. Present and sensual pleasures are 
 little to him. Possessions which cannot extend 
 into the eternity, to which his eye is directed, are 
 little to him. His work in time is work for eter- 
 nity, and he counts it most profitable that his 
 works be such, as will turn to his account in the 
 great day of retribution. 
 
 The great Lawgiver, whose example is before 
 us, was not rendered a useless man to his genera- 
 tion by the assiduity with which he cultivated the 
 life of God. His life was one of extreme labor and 
 care, one which gave exercise to all his meekness 
 and all his faith. Had he forgotten God, he would 
 have lost all heart, and given up the hope of prof- 
 iting the stifihecked and rebellious multitudes, 
 who surrounded him with their clamors and even 
 their repinings. " He endured as seeing Him, who 
 is invisible," He labored for the good of his 
 
TEE INVISIBLE REALIZED BY FAITH. 125 
 
 people, in spite of themselves ; for God was before 
 liim, and His promises lived in his inmost heart. 
 His spiritual mind saved him from being governed 
 by those lower maxims of the world, which excuse 
 men from thankless labors, and would leave 
 those who know not their misery out of the pale 
 of sympathy and aid. Like his Father in Heaven 
 he was willing to 'labor "for the evil and the un- 
 thankful," 
 
 ~So greater mistake can be made than to say 
 that a spiritual mind unfits a man for living in 
 the present world. They who possess it are in 
 very deed the salt of the earth, standing between 
 it and corruption. 
 
 I have spoken of this living in the sight of God, 
 of the life of God in the soul, and of the life of 
 Faith, as the same thing. The words of my text 
 present Moses' vision of God, and its effects as 
 one of those illustrations of faith, by which the 
 Apostle sets forth this eminent Christian virtue 
 as "the substance of things hoped for, and the 
 evidence of things not seen." " ^y faith he forsook 
 Egypt, not fearing the wrath of the King, for he 
 endured as seeing Him who is invisible." In these 
 examples of faith you may study its nature. You 
 see it, not as a single spasmodic act, but a life; 
 not as a substitute for works, but the living prin- 
 ciple from which they cannot fail to flow ; not as 
 an unwarranted presumption, touching one's own 
 spiritual condition, but a clear vision of God, and 
 of the reality of the invisible world, fixed in the 
 heart, and become the governing principle of the 
 inward and thence of the outward life. 
 
126 SERMON VI. 
 
 Christianity in the life of man can start from no 
 other point. The Christian must live by faith, 
 not by sight. It is by f^ith he overcomes the 
 world, — by faith, he works righteousness, — by 
 faith he obtains promises, — and out of weakness 
 is made strong. 
 
 But so it is with every future or distant object. 
 We believe in it, or we do not pursue it; and the 
 Christian must live by faith, because the realities 
 which he pursues and for which he lives are not 
 visible, or not present. 
 
 We are led by the very constitution of our 
 nature to believe in G-od; and we cannot be 
 speculative Atheists, but by the perversion of our 
 understandings. 
 
 We may easily however be practical Atheists, 
 and in our lives deny Ilim, if not with our lips. 
 The corruption of our nature turns us away from 
 Him, and the world takes His place in our hearts. 
 It is necessary for us, then, by pains and diligence, 
 to cultivate the life of faith. And we must do 
 this in the use of the special means of Grace, in 
 which God meets us and imparts to us the bless- 
 ings of His Covenant ; and by living and acting 
 upon our belief in God and in the realities of the 
 invisible world in every thing we do ; strength- 
 ening this principle by exercise, and making it by 
 constant use the iixed habits of our souls. 
 
 Every act done from the consideration of God's 
 presence, and in obedience to Him, is an act of 
 faith, and tends to form the religious habits oi 
 walking by faith and not by sight. Live then, 
 
THE INVISIBLE REALIZED BY FAITS. 127 
 
 every day you live, "as firmly believing you can 
 say nothing but God bears it, can do nothing but 
 God sees it, and that you shall one day receive 
 according to that you now do, whether it be good 
 or evil." Live every day you live, in the full 
 belief, that whatever befalls you is ordered by Infi- 
 nite wisdom and goodness. Live, believing that in 
 all your trials and afflictions, God, although He 
 may have appointed them, looks down upon you 
 with a Father's eye; and that tht;y will if faithfully 
 endured, work out for you an eternal weight of 
 glory. Live in the full and active belief, that 
 there is in God present help in» every trouble, 
 present strength for all your infirmities. Set Him 
 always before you till you feel His presence to be 
 a reality, and find your faith so growing into the 
 evidence and very substance of things not seen, 
 that temptation can no more lead you into trans- 
 gression of His commands, than if you were 
 surrounded by His visible glory ; and the riches 
 and honors of the world can no more turn you 
 aside from choosing God for your portion, than if 
 Heaven and its crowns and its shining throngs 
 were in full view before you. 
 
SERMON Yl- 
 
 OPINIONS NO EXCUSE FOR ACTIONS. 
 
 Prov. xxiii. 7. "For as he thinketh ix his 
 
 HEART, so IS HE." 
 
 It is not uncommon for. persons to think to justify 
 their conduct by their opinions, as if there could 
 be no wrong when thei'e is no violation of their 
 own judgments. Now couple this with another 
 notion, which is not unfrequently held, that a 
 person is not responsible for his opinions, and 
 you have- a very convenient shelter for all manner 
 of wickedness. For if one can persuade himself 
 that a course which he may wish to pursue, is right, 
 or nM wrong, he may just pursue it and hold him- 
 self innocent before God and man. 
 
 I have heard this monstrous notion defended 
 by an appeal to Scripture, "As he thinketh in his 
 heart so is he." It is by a strange interpretation 
 that this passage is quoted in defence of this no- 
 tion, but it is so quoted and that with great confi- 
 dence. " As he thinketh in his heart, so is he." 
 The obvious meaning is, as a man's thoughts are 
 so is he himself; if his thoughts and his purposes 
 are wicked, he is wicked, if right, he is right. It 
 does not say, as he thinks so he may do, — or, he 
 is right because he thinks he is right. No such 
 
OPINIONS NO EXCUSE FOB ACTIONS. 129 
 
 folly is to be found in the word of God. It never 
 iustifies the sinner because he justifies himself, nor 
 makes the fluctuating opinions of men the ulti- 
 mate judges of human conduct. Opinions which 
 are generally not so much the result of careful 
 consideration, as of prejudice, which come more 
 frequently from the passions of men than from 
 their reasons, and are shaped more in reference 
 to their wishes than their obligations. There is a 
 right and a wrong in action independent of our 
 opinions, and our opinions are wrong if they are 
 not conformed to this standard ; and our actions 
 will be wrong, whatever we may happen or may 
 choose to think. 
 
 Most persons are very careless in the formation 
 of their opinions. They take them from others 
 upon trust, without examination. They take them 
 from the companions with whom they associate. 
 They receive them from some plausible declaimer. 
 They embrace them because they inculcate an easy 
 morality, and seem to justify them in following 
 out their wishes and desires. They hold them, 
 because they chime in with their other notions, 
 or are in harmony with the doctrines and views of 
 the party to which they belong. They are taken 
 upon the strength of that sort of plausibility, 
 which an ingenious statement can easily give to 
 the foulest error, and that which comes from 
 apparent harmony with our wishes or previous 
 conceits. 
 
 E'othing is more common than the remark that 
 such an one thinks so, because he wishes to think 
 
130 SERMON VII. 
 
 80, or because it is his interest to thinK so ; and 
 you seldom see a man who is in any evil or wicked 
 habit, but he holds opinions which tend to justify 
 it. He is led into wickedness by his evil passions 
 and by temptations ; and not having the moral 
 force to govern himself by a strict and honest rule, 
 he persuades himself that he is not far from right. 
 He judges partially in his own case. He does not 
 study to see things as they are, but to make them 
 appear as he would have them. He deals dishon- 
 estly with his Conscience, and uses his Reason as 
 a criminal employs his lawyer, to defend him at 
 all events. And as one may sometimes, by a per- 
 verse ingenuity, make wrong seem right to an- 
 ther, 80 may a man play this game with himself, — 
 for every man is in one respect two. He has a con- 
 scimce, which persuades him to the right, and pas- 
 dons which urge him to the wrong. He finds in 
 himself a contest, and sometimes the right, and 
 sometimes the wrong, prevails, as conscience or 
 passion gains the victory. A man may gain a 
 victory over himself. He does so, when he con- 
 quers his passions and brings himself into subjec- 
 tion to reason. He does so in another and a worse 
 sense, when he subjects himself to the dominion 
 of passion, and reduces himself to the miserable 
 servitude of sin and Satan. A man also may de- 
 ceive himself. He does so, when he is led by the 
 uneasy desire of gain into some wild speculation, 
 which his better judgment would have condemned, 
 but which he has persuaded himself, by partial 
 views, to be full of the promise of wealth. He 
 
OPINIONS NO EXCUSE FOB ACTIONS. 131 
 
 does so, when, undef the influence of temptation, 
 he revolves a subject till he can see it in some 
 shape agreeable to his wishes, catches at the plaus- 
 ible suggestion, and makes out a justification of 
 the sin he desires to commit. 
 
 This is no uncommon case. A boy is ambitious 
 to indulge himself in some of the vices and follies 
 which he sees men guilty of, and although taught 
 to consider them vsTong from childhood, and 
 feeling himself checked in his wishes constantly 
 by his conscience, yet no sooner does he hear some 
 plausible justification, than he seizes it and throws 
 himself into the indulgence, with an assurance 
 that if called to account he has something to say 
 in his defence. He does not examine the plausible 
 suggestion, to ascertain whether it be really valid 
 or not. He fears to do that, lest it prove to be 
 nothing. His wish is to be deceived, that, under 
 the deception, he may follow his humor. The de- 
 ception comes and he embraces it. He is reminded 
 of its hoUowness but he will not believe it. He 
 shuts his eyes to conviction, and is determined to 
 remain in the error which "flatters his wishes. 
 
 I might refer you to the arguments which are 
 used to defend the practice of duelling; or to 
 protect idleness in the neglect of the means of 
 improvement and distinction ; or those which are 
 current among the licentious, or the dishonest. 
 All have their force in the depraved will. Wishes 
 are the parents of many thoughts and many argu- 
 ments. There are abundance of what are called 
 in scripture " refuges of lies," which men build 
 
132 SERMON VIi: 
 
 up for shelter against the rebukes of others and 
 the shafts of conscience, which may abide, so 
 long as the power of self-delusion lasts, but which 
 will disappear and leave the soul in all its naked- 
 ness, when the judgments of God, in this world or 
 another, shall sweep them away, and Conscience 
 shall be restored to its power and armed with its 
 scourge. 
 
 A little experience of human nature is sufficient 
 to satisfy us, that the opinions of men are influ- 
 enced and often controlled, by prejudice, by pas- 
 sion, by party zeal, by private interest; that we 
 are influenced by causes within our power, and 
 that we govern our opinions by our wills; having 
 the power to open or close our eyes to evidence, to 
 choose when to give and when to refuse attention 
 to arguments ; and again that by often repeating 
 a position and making it familiar to our under- 
 standings, we may make that which we saw at 
 firs,t to be false, appear at length to be reasonable. 
 I have more than once heard it said of a person, 
 that by often repeating a lie, he had himself come 
 to believe it. 
 
 "Whence then has it been held by so many, and 
 been indeed a favorite position with some, that 
 men are not accountable for their opinions ? 
 
 It has come doubtless from a desire to escape 
 accountability, and obtain a charter for self-will. 
 
 But the ground of defence of this position, is 
 found in partial views of human nature, in that 
 narrow philosophy, which flnds the whole of hu- 
 man nature in one small theory, and that perhaps 
 a mechanical one. 
 
OPINIONS NO EXCUSE FOR ACTIONS 133 
 
 A man's opinions, say they, are the result of 
 his reasonings, conclusions from premises. They 
 have nothing to do with his will. If the premises 
 lead to certain conclusions, it is not at the choice of 
 his will to accept them or not, or to choose between 
 them and others which may be more agreeable. 
 
 It is very true that when premises are accurately 
 stated, they must lead to a definite conclusion. 
 But is this the whole account of human nature in 
 its actual condition, and in reference to the for- 
 mation of human opinions? Whence is it, since 
 one man cannot draw one conclusion and another 
 the contrary from the same premises, that human 
 opinions are so multitudinous, and so contradic- 
 tory? 
 
 The truth is, that exact and explicit argumenta- 
 tion, requires more care and pains than most men 
 are inclined to take, more love of truth than 
 most men possess, to induce them to make the 
 sacrifices of ease and favorite prepossessions, which 
 are necessary to attain it. 
 
 There may be great carelessness and conse- 
 quently great errors in accepting premises, and 
 then the more logically conclusions are drawn the 
 more certain are they to be false. Here is room 
 for error of the largest scope. Prejudice or passion 
 or party or anything may give us premises, and^ 
 then truth has no security in mere logic. 
 
 But one may say, a person must reason from 
 such premises as he has, and if he has not sound 
 ones to reason from, it is his misfortune, not his 
 fault. 
 
134 SERMON VII. 
 
 Nothing can be more groundless as a general 
 excuse for the errors of men. A person may he 
 possessed of falsf notions, without any fault on his 
 own part. But as a general matter, the sources of 
 our opinions are very much determined by our 
 voluntary choice. We may associate with the 
 wise and good, or with the depraved and the 
 ignorant. We may apply ourselves to the read- 
 ing of books that are virtuous in tendency and 
 designed to instruct us, or those which are intend- 
 ed to make themselves acceptable by flattering our 
 prejudices, and exciting our passions, and furnish- 
 ing us with excuses for our follies and frailties. 
 We may, in places of public instruction, put our- 
 selves within the hearing of unpalatable truth, or 
 of agreeable error. We may make conscience 
 and a sense of duty our guide in these matters, or 
 passion and a love of indulgence. 
 
 I have said, " there is a right and a wrong in 
 actions," and this I take to be undeniable. This 
 right and wrong is also independent of our opin- 
 ions, — i. e. our opinion cannot make right and 
 wrong. Things are right whether we approve of 
 them or not. They are wrong, whether we cen- 
 sure them or not. The rule of right and wrong 
 is that by which we are to govern our conduct. 
 .It is the most important of all rules; obedience to 
 it brings after it the greatest of blessings, the vio- 
 lation of it the greatest misery. 
 
 There is absurdity in the very thought, that the 
 rule, by which our conduct is to be judged and 
 governed, is one for ourselves to make. It may be 
 
OPINIONS NO EXCUSE FOR ACTIONS 135 
 
 left for us to ascertain, as to many of the human 
 race it is in a great measure ; or it may be made 
 known to us with greater or less clearness, and 
 some pains may be necessary on our part under 
 the most favorable circumstances, entirely to sat- 
 isfy our minds in regard to it in all particulars. 
 But the rule is to be found, not made. "We are to 
 accommodate ourselves to it, not it to ourselves. 
 
 ITow, is it possible that in any of the great lines 
 of human duty, there should be an earnest and 
 honest desire to find the right way, which is not 
 able to succeed ? There is in all men the same 
 Reason, and the same Conscience. The same 
 World lies before them with its lessons of instruc- 
 tion, and the same Providence is giving them ex- 
 perience. What is argument and proof to one, is 
 equally so to another who is equally intelligent 
 and open to conviction ; and there never is a case, 
 there never was a case, in which, under the same 
 circumstances, with the same evidence before them, 
 two men were impelled to opposite conclusions by 
 differences in the original constitution of their 
 minds. Men differ in the reach and vigor of their 
 intellectual capacities, but in its character and 
 quality, if I may so speak. Reason is the same in 
 all. What one sees by intuition to be true, another 
 cannot see to be false. That which is a just log- 
 ical deduction to one mind is equally so to another ; 
 and as to experience, which is a mere induction 
 from observed facts, it cannot differ in men but 
 as they have been more or less exact in observing 
 facts, and their observations have been more or 
 
136 SERMON VII. 
 
 less extensive. The same facts, well observed 
 and understood, cannot have led to different in- 
 ductions. I 
 
 Where then is there room for men to shelter 
 themselves in the commission of v^ickedness, un- 
 der their differences of opinion, as if these differen- 
 ces were unavoidable ? In the passions of men and 
 in their perverse wills, in. their indifference to 
 truth, and their inclination to the errors which 
 will serve to justify them in their evil ways, there 
 is sufficient to account for the multitude of wrong, 
 nay the flagitious opinions, which are found among 
 them, without recurring to any supposed necessity 
 of their erring. And the considerations which I 
 have now suggested, show that the whole tendency 
 of the intellectual constitution of men, unperverted 
 by prejudice or passion, is to their thinking justly, 
 and thinking alike. It is by a violation of his con- 
 science that one commences to violate his duty. It 
 is by a perversion of his reason, that he comes to 
 a false opinion. It is by misunderstanding and 
 misrepresenting facts, that his experience teaches 
 him falsehood. 
 
 I cannot see, then, but that the prevalence of 
 perverse opinions is in itself a proof of moral de- 
 pravity. I know that in the weakness of man 
 there is room for error, — ^that there are mistakes 
 into which the most honest mind may fall. But 
 men err through weakness of their understand- 
 ings, when, as is too frequently the case, they 
 presumptiously essay to pry into matters which 
 are beyond their reach , and the mistakes of the 
 
OPINIONS NO EXCUSE FOR ACTIONS. 137 
 
 honest often grow out of that moral corruption of 
 human nature, which gives to passion too much 
 power over the judgment even of the best men, 
 and is the ground of prejudices which often ob- 
 scure the reason of the wisest. The mass of hu- 
 man errors is the direct result of human wicked- 
 ness. Vast numbers o/ them are voluntary, and 
 are as completely the subject of accountability, as 
 human vices. 
 
 And why should we not be as much accountable 
 for our opinions as for our actions, in so far as 
 they are the products of our wills ? They are cer- 
 tainly as inportant : Nay, one false opinion may 
 make many actions false to the law : One false 
 opinion may involve a whole community in moral 
 delinquency and moral ruin. Shall the voluntary 
 author of the opinion, then, escape the severest 
 judgment ? 
 
 But I have not yet presented the whole of the 
 case as it stands with us. We have not only the 
 provision of a reason and an understanding, which 
 are constituted essentially alike in all, and put in 
 all into the same relations with the world around 
 us, and to the great truths of morals and of exist- 
 ence; but we have been furnished with supernat- 
 ural light in the word of God ; with a rule, which 
 is so clear in its requirenients, that there seems 
 scarce any excuse left in human infirmity for 
 practical error. If any man desires to know his 
 duty, he need make no serious mistake. If his 
 wish is to do the will of God, simply and honestly, 
 he will find very little obscurity in the way of 
 knowing it. 
 
138 aERMON VII. 
 
 "What excuse then remains for the flagitious 
 opinions which too many, in Christian Countries, 
 not only hold but circulate ; opinions behind 
 which vice shelters itself, and which are apologies 
 for all manner of wickedness ? None, — none in 
 the eye of human reason, none in the mind of God. 
 From the Celestial City are excluded not only 
 " sorcerers, and whoremongers, and murderers 
 and idolaters," but " whosever loveth and maketh 
 a lie." 
 
 This is an important point for us well to under- 
 stand, — that so far as our opinions are voluntary, 
 so far as they are influenced by any circumstances 
 over which we have control, we are accountable 
 for them; and no errors of opinion can excuse 
 errors of conduct, unless those errors of opinion 
 are themselves blameless, unless we have been 
 honest and faithful in our endeavors to know the 
 truth, and are honesjt and faithful in our desire 
 to obey it. 
 
 The condition of one, who is so bent upon doing 
 that which he ought not to do, that he is willing 
 to pervert the truth in order to defend himself, 
 who not only breaks the commands of God, but 
 teaches men so, is certainly fearful. In such a 
 condition there are too many. In such any one 
 may find himself, who begins by dealing disingen- 
 uously with his conscience, and instead of confess- 
 ing his sin excuses it. 
 
 From such a condition, may God in His great 
 mercy deliver us. 
 
 May he deliver us, as we pray in the Litany, 
 
OPINIONS NO EXCUSE FOR ACTIONS 139 
 
 from the deceits of the world, the flesh and the 
 devil: 
 
 From false doctrine, and heresy, from hardness 
 of heart, and contempt of His Word and Com- 
 mandment. 
 
 And to Him, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, be 
 all honor and glory, forever. — Amen. 
 
SERMON VIII. 
 
 MAN'S WORK AND GOD'S GRACE. 
 
 Phil. ii. 12, 13. "Work out tour own salvation 
 
 WITH FEAR AND TREMBLING. FOR IT IS GOD WhICH 
 WORKETH IN YOU BOTH TO WILL AND TO DO OF HiS 
 good' PLEASURE." 
 
 "We are so familiar with the fact, that whatever 
 good things we may expect or hope for in this 
 world are to be certainly obtained only by labor 
 and pains, that we do not complain that we have 
 them not, if we are conscious that we have not 
 made the requisite effort for their attainment. 
 IsTay, we indirectly vindicate the providence of 
 God for not giving them to us, when we explain 
 the reason of our not having them by averring 
 that " We have not tried for them." We are 
 however so partial in our judgments of ourselves, 
 that we sometimes fret for the want of blessings, 
 for which we have not labored. But the judg- 
 ment of others places the censure in the right 
 place, and tells us we have not deserved them, — 
 and we ourselves form the same judgment of 
 others, under the like circumstances. 
 
 By some strange perversion of judgment, how- 
 ever, we expect religious blessings without labor 
 or pains. We expect to become pious and the 
 
MAN'S WORK AND OOD'8 GRACE. 141 
 
 cliildren of God, by some off-hand process ; with- 
 out that constant effort, which we admit to be 
 necessary in other matters. We expect God to 
 give us spiritual blessings, — not in the use of 
 means, not as a reward of our earnest and painful 
 endeavor, not gradually and in their full measure 
 as the result of a long process, — but at once. We 
 seem to imagine that we must begin with being 
 what we are to become, that we are to find relig- 
 ious dispositions in us in some way not dependent 
 upon ourselves, or that we cannot help the want 
 of them, and may as well content ourselves with 
 remaining as we are. 
 
 This is a way of judging which we have not 
 learned by the analogy of our natural condition. 
 It springs up in us perhaps as a development of 
 that evil nature and disinclination to God's service, 
 which belongs to us as children of Adam ; and it 
 may be aided by some of those partial theories of 
 religion, which while they may utter a part of the 
 truth neglect the rest, and utter the part they hold 
 in such separation from the whole body of Christ- 
 ian doctrine, that it becomes a centre of error. 
 We may imagine, for instance, that we are not to 
 " work out our salvation" by efforts properly our 
 own, since that would be placing salvation upon 
 the ground of works and not of grace, and doing 
 dishonor to God's mercy. 
 
 But while we admit that salvation is all of 
 grace, — that it was God's grace which provided 
 for it in the sacrifice of his Son, in the Revelation 
 of His will, in the appointment of a Ministry, in the 
 
142 SERMON nil. 
 
 institution of a visible Churcli, and Worship, and 
 Sacraments, in the operations of the Holy Ghost 
 upon the hearts of men, whereby they are enabled 
 to turn to God and to serve Him, — it is neverthe- 
 less true, and an essential part of the truth, that 
 we are " to work out our salvation," — to work 
 properly, — to work constantly, and with continued 
 effort, — to work as earnestly as if it all depended 
 upon us. 
 
 God's grace is not given us unconditionally. 
 He giveth the Holy Spirit to them that ask Him. 
 It is the importunate prayer, the prayer without 
 ceasing, to which He listens and to which He 
 grants the blessing. He grants forgiveness upon 
 repentance, and works meet for repentance. He 
 blesses the pure in heart — the merciful — the poor 
 in spirit. He requires us to believe, though we 
 may have to struggle with unbelief. He com- 
 mands us to mortify our members which are upon 
 the earth, to deny ourselves, and all ungodliness, 
 and every worldly lust. "What are these but con- 
 ditions, — what are they but works, to be done by 
 us, and according to the spirit of the text — " Work 
 out your own salvation." 
 
 " Work it out " we must, by efforts to do, that 
 which we are perhaps disinclined to do, that which 
 we perhaps find it difficult and painful to do, that 
 which we would rather not do. We may not be 
 inclined to pray, yet we must do it. We may not 
 have a heart to believe, yet we must do it. We 
 may find in ourselves a greater disposition to 
 justify ourselves than to repent, yet we must re- 
 
MAN'S WORE AND GOD'S GBAOE. 143 
 
 pent. We may find it hard to deny ourselves, to 
 refuse to gratify our inclinations, to forsake sin 
 when we are strongly disposed to it, to apply our- 
 selves to our duty, when we are strongly averse to 
 it and every feeling of our heart urges us another 
 way, — yet we must do it, and we must do it as the 
 very condition of salvation. If we would enter in 
 at the straight gate, we must strive to do it, being 
 well assured, for we have the plain words of our 
 Saviour for it, that we may seek to enter without 
 being able. 
 
 And observe, the text is very specific, "work 
 out your own salvation." 'No one can work it out 
 for us. Even the grace of Gon will not profit us, 
 if it do not put us upon this duty. It is the grace 
 of God which provides salvation, and all the means 
 and appliances thereto, but it ofiers it to us on 
 conditions, and it works in us not so as to save our 
 labor, but to enable us to labor, and to labor 
 successful ly. It may not at first be given to us in 
 such measure, as to make our labor immediately 
 a delightful task. We may have to struggle with 
 a reluctant spirit in the duties of devotion, — with 
 a proud heart in humbling ourselves before God, 
 — with a revengeful temper in the exercise of 
 forgiveness, — with strong passions in self-denial. 
 Are we to stop till the grace of God becomes suffi- 
 ciently strong in us to enable us to go on our way 
 rejoicing? 'Sol 'Sol The Christian life is a struggle, 
 it is a warfare not only with foes without, but foes 
 within. We have to do our duty in weariness and 
 painfulness, and we grow in grace as in every 
 
144 SERMON VIII. 
 
 blessing, by faithfully using what we have. We 
 must force ourselves to our duty, if need be, and 
 strive for the attainment of a Christian temper, 
 strive to love God and His service, strive to subdue 
 the power of sin. 
 
 We can do it by the grace of God. We are 
 told to work out our own Salvation with fear and 
 trembling, for it is God that works in us. He 
 does work in us by the Spirit which He hath given 
 us, and He never works in us more certainly than 
 when we are honestly and earnestly striving against 
 evil passions that are tormenting us with their as- 
 saults, and temptations that would hurry us to sin, 
 and unbelief which almost leads us to deny His 
 being. We are not to suppose that the proof of 
 His presence is our conscious comfort. He does 
 not promise us that our labor shall be made easy 
 and delightful. Honest, earnest, faithful labor to 
 do his will, is a better proof that He is with us than 
 mere agreeable emotions, and is the most sure of 
 the reward. He doubtless does give comfort to 
 the weary and heavy laden, to encourage them in 
 their work, but the comfort which he has who does 
 not work, is undoubtedly the illusion of the devil. 
 Work in the way of God's commandments, — work 
 in subduing the corruptions of our evil nature, — 
 work in doing good in imitation of our divine 
 Lord, — is the condition of our salvation, it is the 
 law of Christian progress. 
 
 It is not God's method to set aside the laws of 
 Nature by those of Grace. His grace enables us 
 to work according to the laws of nature for subdu- 
 ing the corruptions of nature. 
 
MAN'S WORK AND GOD'S GRACE. 145 
 
 If we have ia us wrong tempers and dispositions 
 think 3'ou there is no way of remedying them ? 
 Can we not by the grace of God bring our religious 
 sense of duty to condemn them, and ourselves for 
 indulging them ? Can we not so represent them 
 to ourselves, that we shall, as beings endowed with 
 a moral judgment, desire to reform them ? Can 
 we not by the exercise of a free will control their 
 manifestations, and keep them in check ? N"ay, can 
 we not constrain ourselves to act, as we know we 
 ought to act, in defiance and denial of such tem- 
 pers and dispositions ? And is it not the law of 
 our nature, that thus acting we should gradually 
 effect a change in our tempers and dispositions ? 
 Unquestionably : And it is to this end that the 
 law of God commands us to do, — and to do perse- 
 veringly, many things which we are not inclined 
 to do ; and the grace of God works with us, not 
 merely in the way of giving us sensible pleasure 
 but inward strength, and to help our infirmities and 
 to make our labor profitable, against the desperate 
 disease and corruption of our nature. 
 
 I know that the fault and corruption of our 
 nature is so great that without the grace of God it 
 will never be corrected; that it needs not only 
 amendment but renewal. I acknowledge that 
 " we have no power to do good works, pleasant 
 and acceptable to God without the grace of God 
 by Ch rist preventing us, that we may have a good 
 will, and working with us, when we have that good 
 will." But the grace of God does not take the 
 work out of our hands. It gives us the good will, 
 
146 8EBM0N VIII. 
 
 and works with us when we have it. It gives us 
 the will to work, it works with us, not vnihout us. 
 
 "We must work " with fear and trembling." 
 "We must work, though we do not see the profit, 
 and may apprehend ourselves even to be growing 
 worse instead of better. Indeed, we shall be very 
 likely to form this opinion, if we are really grow- 
 ing, for as we become more spiritual in our dis- 
 cernment, and know more of ourselves, by expe- 
 rience of the hardness of our hearts, we shall 
 judge ourselves more severely, and may easily 
 suppose we are becoming more and more wick- 
 ed, when the truth may be that we are gradually 
 gaining the victory over our corruptions, while at 
 the same time we are becoming more conscious of 
 them, and more sensitive to our failures. 
 
 Though in " fear in trembling" — we must work. 
 We may well fear, when the danger is so great 
 and temptation to remit our labor is so strong; 
 and we may well tremble, for the result of a trial, 
 which is a hard one for human infirmity. The 
 danger is, that we shall cease to work for our sal- 
 vation, under the discouragements which surround 
 us ; and under the temptations to unbelief which 
 may assail us, through these very imperfections 
 which thie practice of religious duty and the expe- 
 rience of our backwardness reveals to us; and 
 under the apprehension that with all we do we 
 are becoming no better. In the discouragements 
 which are met with in the trials and troubles of 
 life, a resolved spirit only works the harder, and 
 determines that, whatever may come, failure shall 
 
MAirS WORK AND QOD'S GRACE. 147 
 
 not be his fault. So in Eeligion. Whatever dis- 
 couragements may be met with, he who is re- 
 solved to save his soul above all things, will per- 
 severe. He will hold on to his work and his hope 
 of God's blessing. He must do it if he would 
 win the prize. Ifay he must do it, or he is guilty 
 of disobedience and unbelief. " Though He slay 
 me," said Job, "yet will I trust in Him." He held 
 fast his integrity, by cleaving to God, when he 
 had nothing but his faith to assure him that God 
 had not cast him off. He had no sensible proofs 
 of his favor. Every thing was against him and 
 his soul was in bitterness, — but, as the apostle 
 saith, " we have heard of the patience of Job," 
 "and have seen the end of the Lord." 
 
 It may please God to try our faith and patience. 
 It may please Him to permit us to walk in dark- 
 ness and see no light, but our duty is plain ; 
 " Work out your own salvation with fear and 
 trembling." Here is a plain command, and it is 
 accompanied with a plain assurance, "for it is 
 God that worketh in you." K we work, God 
 works with and in us. If we are faithful He will 
 be. If we hold on our way with perseverance, 
 it will bring us to the desired end at last. He 
 that endureth to the end, the same shall be saved. 
 
 What right have we, sinners against God, to 
 demand an easy road to Heaven, an easy victory 
 over our corruptions, or that He shall make our 
 duties agreeable as a condition of our performing 
 them, or by a miraculous interposition make His 
 service easy to us, as the condition of our engaging 
 
148 SERMON VIII. 
 
 in it. We hear not only of the patience of Job, 
 but of the patience and faith of the Saints. We 
 are told to take the Prophets as examples of suffer- 
 ing affliction and patience, and the lives of the 
 Apostles, and early Christians, may famish us 
 abundantly if we want more. They all under- 
 stood, that Eternal life was the reward of those 
 who, by patient continuance in well doing, seekiov 
 glory and honor and immortality. 
 
 In the parable of the Sower, some seed is said to 
 have fallen on a rock, and some on good ground. 
 Under this figure, we have a Advid representation of 
 the different kinds of hearers. Some are spoken 
 of as hearing the word with joy. Are they the 
 faithful hearers, those who go on to perfection, 
 and bear fruit to God's glory, and reap the fruits 
 of righteousness in eternal life ? nay, they are the 
 stony ground hearers, who have no root and in 
 time of temptation fall away. Who then are they 
 that hear the word with profit represented in the 
 Parable by the good ground? They who in an 
 honest and good heart, having heard the word, 
 keep it, and bring forth fruit with patience. 
 
 I do not say, that in the service of God, though 
 followed amidst difficulties and trials, there is not 
 a holy joy which may brighten the face of care, 
 and cheer the wearied spirit ; — Thanks be to God, 
 there is such a reward of the toils by the way. — 
 But I say that in the work of our salvation we are 
 to regard duty rather than comfort, and to value 
 fruit vastly more than feeling. 
 
 God tries the patience of His children, that lie 
 
MAN'S WORK AND GOD'S OBACE. 149 
 
 may bring them to a higher perfection. Patience 
 teaches them more of their own infirmities and of 
 His grace. It is the school in which they are 
 trained to be good soldiers and to fight manfully 
 the fight of faith. 
 
 He tries our patience by external difBculties, or 
 by the experience of our internal weaknesses, but 
 however He may do it, we must press on. "We 
 must, work out our own salvation, though we ai-e 
 left to do it with fear and trembling. But the 
 fear is merely the fear of our own failure. We 
 need never fear that God will not work in us, until 
 we faithlessly give up the contest. 
 
SERMON IX. 
 
 GOD'S TRUTH THE ONLY TRUE LIGHT. 
 
 Matt. vi. 23. " If the Light that is in thee 
 BE Darkness, how great is that Darkness." 
 
 The darkness of whicli our Lord here speaks is 
 neither blindness nor ignorance. It is the dark- 
 ness of hght, and of a light within. We may be 
 assisted in understanding what it is, by referring 
 to the illustration which our Saviour himself makes 
 use of, — " The light of the body is the eye ; if 
 therefore thine eye be single, thy whole body shall 
 be full of light. But if thine eye be evil, thy 
 whole body shall be full of darkness." What is 
 the single eye, but a sound one which gives clear 
 and distinct images? — or the evil one, but one 
 which gives them indistinct, blurred, or double, 
 or colored, or some other way false or imperfect. 
 
 One who knows himself to be blind may borrow 
 light of him who sees, and n,ot be led by his blind- 
 ness into error. But one who sees, but sees falsely, 
 and trusts to the guidance of his own vision, is in 
 double darkness. " The light of the body is the 
 eye," if the eye be evil this light is darkness, — a 
 darkness irremediable because not suspected, a 
 darkness in which men are more sure to wander 
 out of the way, because it is not a mere negation 
 
OOD'S TEUTS THE ONLY TRUE LIGHT. 151 
 
 of light, but the substitution of a false one. It is 
 like illuminating physical darkness by throwing 
 out upon it luminous figures from a Magic-lantern, 
 whereby the objects after which the eye is search- 
 ing, are not irradiated with a pure light and re- 
 vealed in their own real forms and colors, but 
 invested with hues other than their own, with 
 images foreign from themselves. ' 
 
 In a similar manner the light that is within us 
 may be darkness, deeper darkness, more hopeless, 
 and more certain to lead us astray, than total 
 ignorance. We all know the force of prejudice, 
 in perverting the mind and placing it beyond the 
 reach of truth. 
 
 It has not this force because it has been adopted 
 without deliberate examination (though perhaps 
 we are more tenacious of opinions so formed.) 
 But the preoccupation of the mind with false theories, 
 IS always disadvantageous to the truth, and mis- 
 leads in practice. 
 
 The Epicurean of old, placed the summum honum 
 of human existence in happiness, or as another part 
 of his Creed compels us to say, in pleasure. Here 
 was his brief but intelligible theory. Mark its 
 consequences. Happiness or pleasure alone was the 
 absolute good. Even virtue was good only as it 
 might lead to happiness. Hence man's highest 
 duty was to seek happiness, — and though he might 
 do it prudently, and conscience and experience 
 might warn him against flagrant vices and brutish 
 excesses, because conscience rendered and expe- 
 rience proved such things to be foes to happiness, 
 
152 SERMON IX. 
 
 — ^yet within the influence of such a theory virtue 
 could have no being. In its light every noble and 
 generous and self-denying sentiment became folly. 
 Until such a theory was utterly abandoned and 
 eradicated from the mind, no one could compre- 
 hend an absolute good or an absolute duty. 
 
 The ancient Stoic too had his theory, a more 
 generous one than the Epicurean, and its perfect 
 antipode. It was a theory of virtue, but so exclu- 
 sive that it held virtue to be its own full and suffi- 
 cient reward, and vice its own full and sufficient 
 punishment. In its extravagant deductions it re- 
 jected the notion of judicial rewards and punish- 
 ments, and thus took away the sanctions of virtue 
 which are taught by Religion, natural and reveal- 
 ed. It was a proud and self-sufficient doctrine, 
 and though apparently favorable to virtue, I know 
 not that the Gospel found readier converts among 
 its followers, than among the pleasure-seeking 
 Epicureans. 
 
 These were the sects that encountered Paul at 
 Athens, regarded him as a babbler, and a setter- 
 forth of strange gods, because he preached unto 
 them Jesus and the Resurrection. The Gospel did 
 not make its first or most numerous converts 
 among those men whose minds were preoccupied 
 with theories, or whose hopes of happiness lay in 
 the wealth and power of this world : " ISTot many 
 wise men after the flesh, not many mighty, not 
 many noble were called." 
 
 So fully was the Apostle persuaded of the hope- 
 less nature of that darkness which comes from 
 
GOD'S TRUTE THE ONLY TRUE LIGHT. 153 
 
 false light, that he bade his converts among the 
 Colossians beware lest any man deceive them 
 through philosophy and vain deceit; and to the 
 Corinthians he said, "If any man among you 
 seemeth to be wise in this world let him become 
 a fool that he may be wise." 
 
 But it was not only false Heathen: philosophy 
 which thus darkened the mind to the truth of the 
 Gospel. The same effect was produced by false 
 theories among the Jews. Their religion was a 
 schoolmaster to bring them to Christ. All its 
 promises pointed to Him ; and everything in their 
 religion, and, for many ages before his Advent, 
 everything in their national condition, led them 
 to place their hopes upon him who was to come. 
 But the Jews applied to the study of their Scrip- 
 tures their own private interpretations. They 
 had their theories which they sought to sustain by 
 proofs from Holy-writ, and Holy-writ was made 
 to speak, not the mind of the Spirit which inspired 
 it, but the mind of the reader. They sought in 
 the unwarranted interpretation of prophecy to 
 unravel the course of events, and to decide upon 
 the future in advance of the developments of G-od's 
 providence ; and, like modern efforts of the same 
 kind, theirs produced groundless and arrogant 
 confidence before the event, and unbelief after- 
 wards. These Jewish speculators in Holy Scrip- 
 ture believed themselves wise, and doubtless flat> 
 tered themselves in their wisdom much in propor- 
 tion to the originality of their views ; and we find 
 in the history of the New Testament that none 
 
154 SERMON IX. 
 
 more opposed the mission of our Saviour and His 
 Apostles, than those who did it on the supposed 
 warrant of their Sacred "Writings. Their private 
 interpretations had led them to form false expecta- 
 tions as to their Messiah and the fortunes of their 
 nation, as well as their duty to God. The light 
 that was in them was darkness, a darkness which 
 could not comprehend the true and living light. 
 Their minds were so filled with unreal expecta- 
 tions that they could not receive the real fulfil- 
 ment of God's glorious promises. 
 
 It is so at all times and everywhere. The light 
 that is in us may be darkness. The theories we 
 have formed may be utterly false, and throwing 
 their false light around us may prevent us from 
 seeing the plainest truths as they are. We may 
 have adopted principles and rules of judging, which 
 will as certainly lead us into error as the use of 
 false weights and false measures. It were easy to 
 illustrate this from the history of modern science, 
 to shew how particular false theories have stood in 
 the way of scientific progress, and a general false 
 theory of the origin of knowledge, for generations 
 led the human mind astray in the mazes of scepti- 
 cism. 
 
 And it must be so. The mind furnishes its part 
 in all its judgments. K there were no truth self- 
 evident to it there would be nothing known or 
 knowable beyond the simplest matters of sensible 
 observation. It would be useless to place facts 
 side by side, for the purpose of comparing them 
 and evolving the consequences of the comparison, 
 
OOD'S TRUTH TEE ONLY TRUE LIGHT 155 
 
 if there were not in the mind itself certain laws, 
 which in the progress of religion develop them- 
 selves in axioms or first truths, by force and 
 authority of which conclusions may be drawn. 
 Its deductions thus made become the ground of 
 further enquiries, and form a simple element of 
 knowledge, — the discursive intellect proceeds from 
 consequence to consequence till the vast fabric of 
 human science is achieved. But in every step the 
 mind famishes, from original or acquired stores, 
 one moiety of the argument. It may furnish the 
 general principle, which gives fertility to the par- 
 ticular instance. It may contain the theory which 
 gives light to an obscure fact, or that information, 
 which shews the value and signifieancy of some 
 fact otherwise insulated and unfinished. In all 
 these cases, the course and issue of the deduction is 
 as much determined by the element which the 
 mind furnishes, as by that which comes from with- 
 out. These principles, and theories, and intelli- 
 gence are the light within. If they are false, as 
 they mingle with all our reasonings, they inevita- 
 bly lead us astray. The light within is dark, and 
 that a darkness not in which we may, but must 
 wander. 
 
 Thanks to' the Author of our being, there are 
 first truths, which are so much the necessary 
 convictions of our understandings, that we cannot 
 deny nor very far distort them, and thus we are 
 saved from that universal or irrecoverable false- 
 hood, in which we might otherwise be involved. 
 
 It is a general principle. If the light within us is 
 
156 8EBM0N IX. 
 
 darkness, it produces not only exposure to error but 
 certainty of it. It is error itself. It mingles with 
 and misleads us upon all our opinions and enqui- 
 ries, witli whicli it may have to do. 
 
 There is in most men a pride of intellect, upon 
 a larger or smaller scale, which leads them to 
 value at a high price their own opinions and their 
 own inventions. 
 
 There is in the present age, a very general 
 assertion of independence, whether of thinking or 
 of acting, which is unfavorable to that proper sub- 
 mission to authority which every sound mind 
 recognizes as just and honorable in itself, and 
 which all experience shews to be necessary to the 
 existence, not to say the well-being, of society. 
 It is perhaps the result of a reaction from that 
 exaggerated authority under which the Christian 
 world groaned a few generations ago ; and like all 
 reactions, it rushes to the other extreme before it 
 finds its true place of repose. But it exists, and is 
 favorable to private views in opposition to those 
 which claim authority. It bids a man follow the 
 light within, with much more zeal than it bids him 
 seek for that which is true. 
 
 The present also is an age of invention and of 
 progress. We do not /ear change, we look for it. 
 Everything (if this age is presumed to excel every 
 thing of the past and the last new opinion or 
 theory, like the last new fashion, is deferred to 
 as a matter of course. Everything old is pre- 
 sumed to be exhausted, if it ever had vitality, — to 
 be wrong now, if a different condition of things 
 
GOD'S TRUTH THE ONLY TBTJE LIGHT. 157 
 
 ever made it right, — or if not wrong, to have 
 grown up in an age so inferior to our own, as to 
 be -unable longer to perform its office. 
 
 Again the circumstances of the present age 
 peculiarly favor that which exists in all ages and 
 among all men, the love of theory. "We may talk 
 of facts, and suppose our opinions to be grounded 
 on facts, when in truth their strength lies wholly 
 in the exposition. Facts have little interest, except 
 as they are viewed in the light of some theory ; 
 and it is not the force of facts, but of plausible 
 exposition, that gives currency to many a preten- 
 ded science, which has its day and dies when it 
 has become stale. We love theory because we 
 love to see things in the light of reason . "We love to 
 see with the mind better than vsdth the eye. It is 
 a consequence of our higher nature, and a mark 
 of it. But we are limited in capacity, and when 
 things are plausibly put together, We may imagine 
 we see relations which do not exist. We allow 
 others to give us our point of view, and we may 
 see or think we see things themselves quite other- 
 wise than they are. No age has been more fertile 
 in theories, great and small, than the present. The 
 feverish expectation of change and improvement, 
 the ambition of the glory of reform, has kept the 
 heads of many at work, to discover evils, on the 
 one hand, to be remedied, and means of remedy on 
 the other; and we have visionary theories of moral 
 political and social regeneration, pressed upon us 
 daily as matters of the highest moment. 
 
 I do not deny the existence of evils, or their 
 
158 SERMON IX. 
 
 remedies, or that we are to seek out the former, 
 and apply the latter ; but I do deny that God has 
 left it to man to contrive the remedy for the funda- 
 mental evils of humanity. The experiment has 
 been made. For four thousand years GtOD left the 
 greater part of mankind to feel the evils of their 
 fallen condition, and to discover the remedies, with 
 no other light than that of reason and experience, 
 aided by so much of the light of tradition as may 
 have gone down from the first ages,, and perhaps a 
 little of that which gleamed from mount Sion 
 through the darkness of the surrounding pagan- 
 ism. The experiment was well made, for in genius 
 for philosophical speculations no people have sur- 
 passed the Greeks. In their little active republics, 
 they had sufficient facility of experiment and 
 change; and the evils which called for remedy, 
 never existed in a more palpable and crying form 
 than under their observation. If we have the 
 advantage of them in discerning evils and their 
 remedy, we owe it not to ourselves, nor to any supe- 
 riority of our times which is due to ourselves, but 
 to the existence of that light among us, which too 
 many of us are disposed to undervalue and disre- 
 gard. "After that in the wisdom of God, the 
 world by wisdom knew not God, it pleased God, by 
 the foolishness of preaching to save them that 
 believe." It pleased God in His wisdom that the 
 experiment of man's sufficiency for his own regen- 
 eration, and the attainment of spiritual wisdom, 
 should be made; and after its failure, it pleased 
 him to provide a remedy. 
 
GOD'S TBVTH THE ONLY TRUE LIOET. 159 
 
 There are evils still in the world, but they need 
 no new remedy. It is not true, as some would 
 foolishly and profanely say, that the experiment 
 of the Gospel and the Church, has failed. The 
 world is not all Christian, nor is that which is 
 nominally Christian all under the dominion of 
 religious principles. What then ? The Gospel is 
 set forth for the spiritual recovery and regenera- 
 tion of those who will believe and obey it. If men 
 vrill not apply the remedy, the fault is not its but 
 theirs. The Gospel has its effect. It is a touch- 
 stone and test of character, as well as a remedy, 
 and so must be every moral remedy. It proves 
 men, and it is a savor of death unto death, as 
 well as of life unto life, and so it was designed to 
 be. It comes to them as moral agents, free to 
 accept or reject its offers of mercy, free to use or 
 neglect its means of grace and recovery from the 
 power of sin. It works not like those inevitable 
 powers of nature which embrace alike the willing 
 and the unwilling. Our Saviour came to the peo- 
 ple of His own nation, and some believed unto life, 
 and others rejected Him unto their own condem- 
 nation. His Apostles preached His Gospel and 
 His Kingdom among many people, and accom- 
 panied their preaching with mighty signs and 
 wonders, and some believed and some believed 
 not. And so it has been and so in all probability 
 it will be till the end of the world. 
 
 But the triumphs of the Gospel have not been 
 small. Much as remains to be done, much, very 
 much, has been accomplished ; and so much, as 
 
160 SERMON IX. 
 
 clearly to indicate a Divine hand. If you would 
 estimate its power as a remedy for moral evil, try 
 it by its effects upon those who have heartily em- 
 braced and followed it. Watch the lives of the 
 thousands, who, since the time of our Saviour, 
 have, in obedience to its commands, denied them- 
 selves and all ungodliness and every worldly lust, 
 and striven with an earnest and sincere heart to 
 cultivate every virtue ; who have lived to God, in 
 the spirit of obedience and of a pure and exalted 
 devotion, — to the loorld in work« of untiring benfev- 
 olence and charity, — and to themselves only in the 
 endeavor to become more and more holy, and to 
 subject body soul and spirit to the rule of purity 
 and virtue. They have not been men of one idea, 
 nor sought to become eminent in one virtue only. 
 They have followed no theory of man's devising, 
 exhibited no one-sided development of possible 
 human excellence, but that universal law of the 
 universal Law-giver, which covers evenly the 
 whole ground of the human nature and human 
 life. They have relied upon no fancied power of 
 the will, or of truth, or of ideas, but upon that 
 grace of God, which flowing from His infinite ful- 
 ness, gives " grace for grace." 
 
 And besides these, ten thousand times ten thou- 
 sand have followed the same law, though less per- 
 fectly, and have struggled on against the infirmi- 
 ties of the flesh, with the same high end in their 
 view though not with the same clearness, and 
 sought the same grace, though not with the same 
 constancy and fervor; and though they have not 
 
aOD'S TRUTH THE ONLY TRUE LIGHT. 161 
 
 shewn the full power of the grace of God in His 
 Gospel and His Church, they have shewn a virtue 
 of which the world was unaware before the coming 
 of Christ, and of which the Philosophers, even 
 the purest of them, in the heathen world, never 
 dreamed. 
 
 This is but the honest way of testing the power 
 of the Gospel; by observing its effect upon those, 
 who have yielded themselves in a hearty obedi- 
 ence to its influence. 
 
 But there is a difficulty in the way of the ap- 
 plication of this text. How shall we know these 
 men? The Christian Church has been rent with 
 schisms and heresies. The character of the best 
 men has been maligned, their virtues represented 
 in caricature, and their infirmities, ( for they were 
 men) so exaggerated as to make them seem like 
 dotards. They were many of them of another age, 
 and the present measures them by its own con- 
 ventionalities, and, finding them wanting, ridicules 
 them. Some of our most popular and most read 
 Histories have been written by unbelievers, who 
 in the way of subtle insinuation have sought to 
 discredit the Gospel, its forms, its principles, and 
 its followers. It is doubtless true that many have 
 sought to gain influence through its means, and 
 under the profession of its purity to cover up their 
 own vices, and have thus given occasion to the ad- 
 versaries to blaspheme ; but the adversaries have 
 stretched the occasion to cover their own wicked 
 purposes, and the undiscriminating reader allows 
 himself to be cheated of rich examples of faith. 
 
162 SERMON IX. 
 
 and patience, and purity, and charity, which have 
 adorned the Christian ages and the Christian 
 Church. According to a popular opinion, the 
 Christian Church cannot shew such a Hne of wor- 
 thies in different ages, as St Paul gives us in the 
 Epistle to the Hebrews, from the Hebrew History, 
 as witness of our faith. But it is not so. Every 
 age has produced its saints, men " of whom the 
 world was not worthy." 
 
 But let us turn to another proof of the power of 
 the Gospel. Christ and His Apostles preached 
 when the Roman Empire had grown old, and was 
 already ripening to its decay. Many converts 
 were gained from the corruptions of its licentious 
 worship and morals, from its vain philosophies, 
 from its chase of ambition, from its camp and its 
 court. The Gospel's power was displayed to the 
 astonishment of the world, and to its own rapid 
 spread against the force of bitter persecutions. 
 But it was no part of God's purpose to sustain the 
 overgrown power of pagan Eome. Rome did not 
 deserve it, and the well-being of the world did 
 not require it. The eternal City became a prey to 
 barbarians, and the empire of the Caesars was par- 
 celled-out among the ignorant and ferocious hordes, 
 who rushed upon the spoil from the depths of 
 northern wilds. Among these barbarous people 
 the Church of God sent its ministers, and its mar- 
 tyrs, and taught them the truth, as they were able 
 to bear it, and patiently trained them in her holy 
 ways ; till of the new stock she has made the 
 great Kingdoms of Europe. I do not say the 
 
QOD'8 TRUTH THE ONLY TETJE LIOHT. 163 
 
 Church has always done her work as she should. 
 Wlien she had gained power, bad men sought to 
 wield it, as bad men will seek power everywhere ; 
 but amidst the corruptions which ambition has 
 brought within her, and the hostilities which have 
 been directed against her from without, she has 
 lived, and the truth has lived in her keeping, and 
 whatever there is higher and holier in modern 
 than in ancient civilization, is due to her. 
 
 lu the present age, the light of truth has no an- 
 tagonist so formidable as the darkness which pro- 
 ceeds from false light. There have been ages 
 of ignorance when men were not prepared to re- 
 ceive the truth ; there have been ages of faith, as 
 some call them, or ages of credulity, as others, 
 when superstition found easy access. The present 
 is an age of intellectual excitement, active if not 
 always deep, and its error is rationalism. Men are 
 not prone to believe, they require to see. 
 
 But profound truths lie not upon the surface, 
 they are not to be picked up, as an idle man gath- 
 ers shells or minerals. The law of gravitation is 
 simple, but the world had attained almost its 
 present age, before it was discovered; and its 
 application to all the phenomena of the visible 
 universe that depend upon it, has not yet been 
 made ; and to understand its application so far as 
 it has been investigated, requires patient study, 
 and a degree of preparation beyond the scope of 
 most men. The visible heavens are a mystery, 
 and must remain a mystery to far the greater 
 number of those who gaze upon them, and the 
 
164 SERMON IX. 
 
 scientific expositions of their order and system are, 
 and will remain, sealed books to all but the few. 
 
 How then can it be imagined, tbat every man, 
 or that any man, is competent to make a theory 
 which shall embrace the whole moral order of the 
 universe ? He who knows nothing of the problem 
 may suppose it to be very simple, but the specula- 
 tions of the ablest men have never reached its 
 solution. Theories of morals and politics have 
 been framed with vast labor, only to be refuted. 
 Constitutions have been formed, embodying the 
 last results of human science ; and the shout of joy 
 and triumph at their completion has scarce died 
 away, before human nature, working as it works 
 daily, has contradicted their provisions and princi- 
 ples, and they were remanded to the already well 
 filled depository of the monuments of human 
 weakness and presumption. 
 
 And how should it be otherwise? The physical 
 Universe, large as it is, is but an adjunct to the 
 moral, its vast arrangements but part of a greater 
 scheme. No law of gravity has yet been discov- 
 ered, which governs the movements of the moral 
 world. Its disturbances have been reduced to no 
 order. "We know not its extent, we know not its 
 infinite relations. Each man even to himself is a 
 mystery. He is daily influenced by motions, which 
 are hidden even from his own eye; and he cannot 
 foretell his own conduct, nor be sure of his own 
 purposes. Give him a child to train, and he 
 knows no certain method of guiding him to wis- 
 dom and virtue amid the temptations which beset 
 
aOUS TEUTS THE ONLY TRUE LIGHT. 165 
 
 Mm. How then is lie to prescribe a law for the 
 Universe ? to say how, not one man, but all men, 
 are to be trained to wisdom and virtue ? to reform 
 the errors of humanity and to bring back the 
 golden age to a corrupted and depraved world ? 
 
 And yet we have theories for the reformation of 
 man which pay no respect to the Revelation of 
 God, but starting from a narrow observation of 
 some corner of human nature, arrogantly profess 
 to reveal its whole law. 
 
 We have schemes of moral reform, which aim 
 to do in a single generation, what the Gospel of 
 the Son of God has not done in many. We have 
 plans of social regeneration, which are to prove 
 that the very starting point of Christianity is all 
 wrong and that man would be everything that is 
 good, if only his social circumstances would allow 
 him. We have theories of government, which 
 want only to be adopted, as their advocates fondly 
 imagine, to cure all the evils of ambition and 
 violence and mutual wrong, and to unite men in 
 one great brotherhood. If you will believe it, 
 there is nothing easier than to make all men wise 
 and virtuous and happy; and there are so many 
 methods by which it may be done, that it is not 
 the least of the unsolved riddles of the day that a 
 thing so obvious and easy has never yet been 
 accomplished. 
 
 But the evil of human nature lies deeper than 
 Ignorance, or the accident of a particular vice, or 
 inequalities in social condition, or in oppressive 
 governments. It needs a more universal remedy 
 
166 SERMON IX. 
 
 thafi human theories prescribe. It needs a power 
 exterior to itself to give strength to its efforts for 
 recovery. It needs a wisdom higher than its own 
 for its guidance, that it may repose in a sure belief 
 when it cannot see ; — and an organization which 
 carries with it the weight of authority, and is not 
 subject to the shiftings of expediency. 
 
 We have all we want in the Gospel and the 
 Church of God. If the world is not reformed by 
 it, it is because the world does not receive it. 'So 
 man has ever yet embraced the Gospel, and used 
 in faith and sincerity the means of God's grace, in 
 vain. And no society has become heartily Christ- 
 ian without finding that it had discovered a real 
 and sufficient remedy for its real evils. But the 
 Gospel of the Kingdom comes to men as moral 
 beings, they may receive or reject it. If they 
 reject it, it leaves them as it finds them, and what 
 remedy for moral evil can do otherwise ? 
 
 It is no new thing for the highest truth to be 
 excluded by the means of plausible error. The 
 Adversary has used it from the beginning, and we 
 are taught by the vivid parable of Micaiah to 
 Ahab, that the most certain way of misleading 
 men is by a lying spirit in the mouth of their 
 prophets, " Thou shalt go and shalt also persuade 
 him." 
 
 Lying spirits there have been in every age, but 
 an age of abounding and unrestrained intellectual 
 activitj' must especially abound in them. The 
 principles of religion and even of morality are 
 assailed in every direction. Lying spirits of every 
 
OOD'S TRUTH THE ONLY TEVE LIGHT. 167 
 
 rank from the legions of darkness, seem to have 
 been sent upon the earth upon their errand of 
 falsehood. 
 
 Some there are who assail intellects of a high 
 order with pantheistic visions, cheat them with 
 speculations which seem to savor of a higher piety, 
 and from the semblance of finding God everywhere, 
 lead them at last to find Him, as the Creator and 
 Moral Governor of the world, no where ; no where 
 a personal being, possessing Will, and prescribing 
 Law, and appointing a Judgment to come. 
 
 Some preach to intellects of a less transcendental 
 character the doctrines of materialism, and may 
 carry their teachings to another form of Atheism ; 
 or if not so far, to the mortality of the soul, or to 
 fatalism, or to such conceptions of the laws of the 
 material Universe as to exclude miracles, the very 
 seal by which God authenticates his revelations 
 to man. 
 
 Others again apply themselves to mislead men 
 in the application of a fond and boastful criticism 
 to History,, and under the influence of principles 
 which would find no quarter in a court of law, the 
 facts of the Christian History turn to fable, and 
 the gibing demons go back and report their success 
 in taking away the substance of faith and leaving 
 only shadows in its room. 
 
 Others again, of the lowest rank, mislead the 
 weak with spirit-rappings, and the lowest tricks of 
 imposture, and in their wanton confidence of suc- 
 cess scarcely conceal the coarseness of their de- 
 ceptions. 
 
168 8ERM0N IX. 
 
 They succeed, because men are prone to remain, 
 as they are born, the children of unbelief; be- 
 cause they do not receive the truth in the love of 
 it, and are therefore permitted to be the subjects 
 of strong delusion, and to believe lies. 
 
 If the theories of reform lead you away from 
 the truth of the Gospel, if they hide from your 
 view the fundamental evil of humanity, its rebell- 
 ion against God, its fall and corruption ; if they 
 would supercede repentance, and the humble ac- 
 knowledgment and the earnest forsaking of sin, 
 as the essential ground of any real improvement ; 
 if they would supercede the grace of God by the 
 power of science and intelligence, or the Church 
 of God by some new organization which is their 
 own embodiment ; then unquestionably are they 
 false lights, which lead you away from the true. 
 Eeceived into the mind they corrupt it. They fill 
 it with a fuliginous darkness which no light can 
 penetrate. 
 
 I cannot close my admonitions to you better 
 than by exhorting you to see that you put not 
 darkness for light. Beware of false theories, 
 whether of Philosophy or of Religion. Try th& 
 spirits whether they be of God. Take care that the 
 light that is in you be not darkness. God has 
 given you the true light ; keep your eye upon it, 
 and walk in it. Christianity is the profoundest 
 philosophy, it is the truest rule of life, it is the 
 only radical remedy for the evils of human corrup- 
 tion. Follow no political theory which ignores 
 the revelation, which God has made to man. 
 
OOD'8 TRUTH TEE ONLY TRUE LIGBT. 169 
 
 Fear that philosophy which flatters the pride of 
 humanity, and makes it GoD-deseended, without 
 recognizing the fact that it has fallen from God, 
 and that the grace of God is necessary, for its 
 regeneration. Be Christians in every thing. You 
 can nowhere safely substitute human reason for 
 the truth of God. This truth is absolute truth as 
 well for this world, as the next ; truth as well for 
 the improvement of society, as the salvation of 
 the individual; truth fundamental as well for 
 political as for moral government. 
 
 Guide yourselves thpn by its light, live in obedi- 
 ence to -all the commands of God, walk in His 
 ordinances, believe His truths and promises. You 
 will find it the true wisdom, whatever human folly 
 may boast ; and you will escape the darkness of 
 that light which only leads to bewilder and dazzles 
 to blind. 
 
 And may God be with you and bless you, lift 
 up His countenance upon you, and give you 
 peace, now and evermore. 
 
SERMON X. 
 
 NO EELEASE FEOM GOD'S SERVICE. 
 
 EzEKiEL XX. 32, 33. " And that -which combth 
 
 CNTO YOUR MIND SHALL NOT BE AT ALL, THAT YE SAY, 
 We WILL BE AS THE HEATHEN, AS THE FAMILIES OF 
 THE COUNTKIES, TO SERVE WOOD AND STONE. AS I 
 LIVE, SAITH THE LoRD GoD, SURELY WITH A MIGHTY 
 HAND, AND WITH A STRETCHED OUT ARM, AND WITH 
 FURY POURED OUT, WILL I RULE OVER YOU." 
 
 There is nothing more striking in the history of 
 the Jews, than their tendency to idolatrous confor- 
 mity with the nations among whom they dwelt. 
 In the verses preceding my text, the Prophet tells 
 us, that the Elders of Israel came to enquire of the 
 Lord and sat before Him, and that the Lord com- 
 manded him to tell them that He " would not be 
 enquired of by them," and bade him, " cause them 
 to know the abomination of their fathers." He 
 then charges them in the name of the Lord, with 
 their early idolatries in Egypt, with their rebel- 
 lions in the wilderness, and with their continued 
 and multiform departures from Him, after He had 
 brought them to the Land of Promise ; sins which 
 were not only visited upon them in hereditary 
 judgments, but of which the present generation 
 were guilty, and for which the present generation 
 ought, by every rule of justice, especially to suffer. 
 
NO RELEASE FROM QOD'S SER VICE. 171 
 
 It was for this tliat God would not be enqiaired of 
 by them. They had broken His covenant; and 
 yet against the judgments which they thereby 
 incurred, they would fain plead the promises of 
 the covenant. 
 
 They had desired to be as the Heathen round 
 about them, to have the liberty of selecting their 
 own worship according to their own tastes, and to 
 put themselves under a religious rule less strict 
 than the law of Jehovah, more indulgent to their 
 corrupt passions and appetites. So in the assump- 
 tion of a freedom which God never concedes, they 
 had said " We will be as the heathen, as the fami- 
 lies of the countries,(or Gentiles) to serve wood and 
 stone." Jehovah tells them, that " This shall not 
 be at all." He will not in the least allow it, but 
 " "With a mighty hand and with a stretched out 
 arm, and with fury poured out He will rule over 
 them." 
 
 This language is both in the way of threatening 
 and promise; God would not and could not allow 
 their claim to reject His covenant, and to put 
 themselves into the condition of those to whom 
 He had granted no special promises and blessings, 
 and of whom He had claimed no peculiar duties ; 
 and in this point of view His words tell them of 
 His severe judgments incurred by their rebellions 
 against Him. But the words following speak of 
 a result which should at length follow these judg- 
 ments. • " I will bring you into the wilderness of 
 the people, and there will I plead with you face to 
 face, I will cause you to pass under the rod, and I 
 
172 SERMON X. 
 
 will bring you into the bond of the covenant, and 
 I will purge out from you the rebels, and ye shall 
 know that I am the Lord." 
 
 If we consider only the absurdities of pagan 
 idolatry, and the light which the Jews had receiv- 
 ed in regard to the nature and worship of the true 
 God, it will seem strange that these chosen people 
 ct)uld possibly go back to the service of idols. 
 But men are not governed by reason alone ; many 
 a man of strong intellectual capacities is ruled by 
 the basest passiofls, and sometimes is as complete- 
 ly under their control as if he knew no better way. 
 "We can very well understand how the Jews could 
 be seduced from the worship of Jehovah by the 
 surrounding idolatries. The worship of the Hea- 
 then world, and of the Canaanitish nations in 
 particular, was tempting to the flesh. Their gods 
 demanded of them no careful purifications of their 
 hearts or their persons, no denial of their appe- 
 tites, no restraint of their passions, but were 
 served with rioting and all manner of wickedness. 
 They demanded human sacrifices, but not the 
 sacrifice of any part of our corrupt nature. Their 
 religion was an easy one, — pretending to secure 
 the happiness of the future life, it encouraged the 
 most licentious enjoyment of the present. This 
 was the great source of temptation to the Jews, 
 and, while they were mingled with the Heathen, 
 as in Egypt and in Canaan, they were exposed to 
 it ; and doubtless those who were enjoying a more 
 free religion, ridiculed their strictness, and laughed 
 at their scruples, while they were soliciting them 
 
NO RELEASE FROM GOBS SERVICE. 173 
 
 tc depart from the covenant of their God, and to 
 join their party. It was the policy of the heathen 
 to make them break the covenant and incur the 
 displeasure of that terrible GrOD, whose wonders 
 in Egypt, and at the Red Sea, and at Jordan, and 
 in the overthrow of the Canaanites, had shewn 
 Him so terrible to their own power. It is the 
 tendency also of subjugated people, like the Cana- 
 anites, to endeavor to weaken their conquerors by 
 corruption. And it is the tendency of corrupt 
 human nature to drag down the virtue that is above 
 it to its own level, and to extend as, widely as pos- 
 sible, the companionship of sin. 
 
 If we consider these things we shall not be at a 
 loss to account for the apparent severity of God, 
 in commanding the utter extirpation of the Heath- 
 en nations from the Land of Promise, and we shall 
 see in the disobedience of the Jews on this point 
 — a disobedience which probably excused itself on 
 the ground of mercy, but which was in truth a 
 vain assumption of being wiser and more benevo- 
 lent than God — the source of the multiplied 
 corruptions and judgments and disasters of their 
 nation. The Jews felt the temptation to which 
 they were exposed, they smarted under the taunts 
 and sarcasms of their heathen neighbours, they 
 fretted at the strictness of their own law compared 
 with the others' liberty ; and sometimes in consid- 
 erable numbers, and sometimes almost in a mass, 
 they went over to idolatry. There were periods of 
 reformation. "When they had suffered defeat and 
 hard servitude at the hand of their enemies, 
 
174 BEBMON X. 
 
 accompanied with all the cruelties and bitter 
 oppressions, which the petty tyrannies of the 
 heathen world knew so well how to inflict upon 
 subjugated people, they returned to God and were 
 restored to their national independence and wor- 
 ship ; and they continued faithful, till a new gen- 
 eration had arisen which had no memory of suffer- 
 ings, and temptation and sin again brought in 
 transgression aud revolt. 
 
 Such, in brief, was the history of the Jews down 
 to the time of their long captivity at Babylon. 
 This event, followed by incessant troubles from 
 pagan states after their return, cured them of 
 their propensity to idol worship, until their history 
 as God's chosen people was closed by the bringing 
 in of a better covenant. It is a history which 
 may seem strange to those who look at it from 
 a distance, unmoved by the temptations and trials 
 which pressed upon them. It may seem strange 
 to those who look at it as the history of a chosen 
 people, favored of God above all other people of 
 the earth, with means of knowledge and of grace, 
 and taken into covenant with Him and made the 
 depositaries of His promise, — if they do not reflect 
 that God's blessings are a trial of what is in us, 
 that they are not' bestowed for the purpose of 
 forcing us into the right way and keeping us 
 therein by the Omnipotence of His power; and 
 that they will always prove in the result, accord- 
 ing to the use which is made of them, a savor 
 of death unto death to some, as well as life unto 
 life to others. The Jewish history is the history of 
 
NO RELEASE FROM GOD'S SERVICE. 175 
 
 men acting freely, and according to known princi- 
 ples of human nature, under great blessings; and it 
 is full of instruction to us in regard both to the 
 ways of God to man, and the ways of man to God. 
 It would cease to be a marvel to us, if we would 
 consider how much men — those who profess to be 
 Christian men — are drawn aside from the service 
 of God at the present day by the very same pas- 
 sions, under inferior temptations, and against a 
 clearer knowledge of their duty. ITo folse religion 
 offers itself to us as the patron of licentiousness, 
 and yet God's law is daily and constantly forsaken, 
 His service contemned, and His judgment braved, 
 — and that in the service of those very lusts which 
 tempted the Jews to idolatry. 
 
 But let us return to the matter before us. The 
 Jews had a knowledge of God by a special revela- 
 tion. They were instructed in regard to His wor- 
 ship and the moral obedience which lie required. 
 They had a law given to them, which however 
 imperfect we may deem it, was yet such as the 
 Divine vdsdom saw fit to give them, and concern- 
 ing the eflB.caey of which the same Divine wisdom 
 has solemnly said, " I gave them my statutes, and 
 shewed them my judgments which if a man do, he 
 shall even live in them." 
 
 But instruction, and statutes and judgments 
 were not all. They were taken into covenant 
 with God, He who made them, who redeemed 
 them as a nation from bondage, who planted them 
 in " the glory of all lands," and gave them so 
 many spiritual blessings, bound them to Himself 
 
176 _ SERMON X. 
 
 also by a special tie, sealed His promises by a spe- 
 cial sign, and confirmed them by an oath. Well 
 might He ask " what more could I have done to 
 my vineyard which I have not done ?" 
 
 If we admit that God's laws can place man un- 
 der obligation, we must admit that nothing was 
 wanting to place the Jews under highest obliga- 
 tions to revere Him, to keep His commandments, 
 and to refuse under whatever temptation to give 
 His honor to others. 
 
 It was no excuse for their defection from His 
 service, that the service of idol gods was more to 
 their inclination, or that they were provoked by 
 example or by ridicule. It is no defence that they 
 did it in the exercise of moral freedom, and ought 
 not to be restrained in the matter of religion ; for 
 this is denying all law and all obligation, inasmuch 
 as we never sin but in the exercise of moral free- 
 dom ; and if in the matter of religion, i. e. of our 
 highest duty to God, we are not the subjects of 
 law and command and restraint, we can be no- 
 where. 
 
 Man's obligations, however, do not depend upon 
 his own will. They are not matters of his choos- 
 ing. His very nature makes him a subject of 
 moral obligation. There is a right and a wrong 
 in actions, independent of all will ; and he has not 
 only the power to discern it, but in all the great 
 lines of human duty he cannot but discern it. He 
 cannot but feel that it is his duty to do the right 
 and avoid the wrong. He has the power of choice, 
 and the power of doing. There is nothing then 
 
NO RELEASE FROM GOD'S SERVICE. 177 
 
 that can discharge him from responsibility. He 
 is subject to it, whether he will or not. 
 
 His duty, too, is independent of his determina- 
 tion. In its principle it is the same for all, but in 
 its particular distribution, it is modified by the 
 circumstances and condition of the individual. One 
 man is rich and another poor. One is learned and 
 another ignorant. One is in the vigor of health, 
 and another exhausted with sickness and suffering. 
 One possesses power and influence, another is 
 weak and impotent. The measure of duty for all, 
 then, cannot be the same, for their capacities are 
 not the same, and their relations to others are not 
 the same. That which is required of us must ob- 
 viously be measured by our ability to do it ; and 
 that which is due from us to others governed by 
 the relations in which we stand to them. 
 
 At a time, when the nations of the earth were 
 gliding into idolatry, and some of them had whol- 
 ly forsaken and forgotten God in their devotion to 
 corrupt and lying vanities, the family of Abraham 
 was selected, as the beginning of a people to be in- 
 structed in the knowledge of God, and to be plan- 
 ted in the centre of the world as then known to 
 civilized man, — to preserve the knowledge of Him 
 and His worship, to be the depositaries of His 
 promises, and, I imagine, to be in no small degree 
 a light and a guide to other nations. He protected 
 and guided the Patriarchal founders of this people 
 in their wanderings. He planted them in Egypt 
 for a succession of ages, and then delivered them 
 by a series of stupendous miracles, which not only 
 
178 SERMON X. 
 
 put tlie knowledge of Himself and His claims to 
 tlieir undivided homage beyond all question of 
 their own minds, but struck with amazement and 
 awe the nations among whom the report was 
 spread. He gave them His law, amid still farther 
 demonstrations of His being and His power in the 
 thunderings of Sinai; schooled them to an habitu- 
 al dependence upon himself by the daily miracle 
 of the manna, and the pillar of cloud and fire 
 which guided them for forty years in the wilder- 
 ness ; led them into the Canaan by a repetition of 
 the miracle of the Red Sea, and gave supernatural 
 power to their arms against its cities and nations. 
 When they were established in the Land of prom- 
 ise. He dwelt among them by His visible Presence 
 in the Sanctuary, and His no less visible Provi- 
 dence, and called them continually to their duty 
 by the daily sacrifices of the Temple, and the 
 ministry of His Prophets, and His Priests. 
 
 It could not be at the option of such a people, 
 whether to believe and serve God or not. They 
 could not at their choice " be as the heathen 
 the families of the countries," and at liberty if 
 they preferred it " to serve wood and stone." It 
 was impossible that they could reduce themselves 
 to the responsibilities of those, to whom GrOD had 
 not manifested Himself as He had to them ; to 
 whom He had given no Revelation, no Law, no 
 Covenant, to whom he had given no Priest to 
 minister, and no Prophet to preach in His name. 
 If the heathen sinned it was without law. If they 
 worshipped in the idol's temple, it was in violation 
 
NO RELEASE FROM GOB'S SERVICE. 179 
 
 only of the light of nature, and teachings of an 
 obscure tradition, or a remote report. If they 
 violated the everlasting laws of truth and right- 
 eousness and purity, they sinned only against a 
 conscience unenlightened by revelation and con- 
 tradicted too often by authority and custom. In 
 this respect the Jew was not, and could not be, as 
 they. If he chose even to go and live among 
 them, the knowledge of God and His law and the 
 bond of the covenant still followed him, and his 
 duty must be governed by these, and not by the 
 ignorance and the customs of those around him. 
 He must impart to them his light and not follow 
 their fables, and by this light he must live visibly 
 and inflexibly that they might the more readily 
 see and understand it. 
 
 But following their corrupt inclinations, the Jews 
 showed the strong tendency in human nature to 
 defection from God. After the death of Solomon, 
 ten of the tribes, in their revolt from his son and 
 successor, were led by the policy of the usurper 
 Jeroboam into a modified and real, though not 
 confessed, idolatry ; and in the time of Ahab, the 
 worship of Baal had so far taken the place of that 
 of the true God in the kingdom of Israel, that but 
 seven thousand were found who did not bow the 
 knee to the idol. Could this be allowed ? Must 
 not the Divine justice forbid it, or avenge it? 
 " This shall not be at all", saith the voice of God 
 in my text, " this shall not be at all, that ye say 
 we will be as the heathen, to serve wood and 
 stone. As I live, with a mighty hand and with 
 
180 SERMON X. 
 
 fury poured out will I rule over you." The fear- 
 ful judgments of God fell upon hem, for their 
 departure from Him in following the foul super- 
 stitions of the heathen ; and their history remains 
 a lesson to man, all the more instructive in that 
 it is a record of human frailty, and of God's just 
 judgments against the violation of His laws and 
 the abuse of His mercies. 
 
 Peculiar as were the privileges of the Jews, and 
 heinous therefore as were their defections from 
 God, is their guilt not to be matched by any thing 
 that can occur among ourselves ? 
 
 It is true they sinned against clear and striking 
 manifestations of the greatness and goodness of 
 Jehovah. Do we sin against less ? Hear the 
 Apostle. If "he that despised Moses' law, died 
 without mercy, of how much sorer punishment, 
 shall he be thought worthy, who hath trodden un- 
 der foot the son of God." Clear as the light was 
 that beamed from Sinai, that which comes from 
 Calvary is clearer still. Under the old dispensation 
 God spake by His Prophets, but under the Chris- 
 tian by His Son, Who came as a light into the 
 world, not only to illumine the darkness of pagan- 
 ism but the shadows of the Law, and to turn the 
 dim morning of the Mosaic revelations into the 
 clear noon of Gospel truth. Christ came to give 
 us a more spiritual Law, and a Covenant estab- 
 lished upon better promises, and sealed with His 
 own blood. 
 
 If there was much to bind the Jew to the Cove- 
 nant which God had made with his fathers, there 
 
NO RELEASE FROM GODS SERVICE. 181 
 
 is more to bind the Christian to that which in these 
 last days has been given unto us. I say the Chris- 
 tian. I mean all to whom the knowledge of Christ 
 has come; for the new Covenant was not made for 
 one people only, but for all, and the commission 
 to the Apostles was, " Go ye oat into all the world 
 and preach the Grospel to every creature. He that 
 believeth and is baptized shall be saved, he that 
 believeth not shall be damned." To every one the 
 message is sent. Upon every one that hears it, 
 rests the obligation of obedience. 
 
 It cannot be allowed the Christian any more 
 than the Jew, then, to forsake the Covenant of his 
 God, or to neglect it. He cannot put himself in the 
 condition of one who has not received the message 
 of mercy through Christ, he cannot reduce his ob- 
 ligations to the same level. Truth and righteous- 
 ness forbid it, no less than the positive require- 
 ments of God. 
 
 To be more particular, he is not and cannot be 
 at liberty to forsake the truth oi God for any 
 human speculations. He is not at liberty to for- 
 sake it, on any pretence of serving God on the 
 principles of reason and natural religion. He is 
 not at liberty to forsake the service of God, as He 
 prescribes it, because he finds it wearisome, and not 
 to his taste, because it forbids him in some of his 
 cherished indulgences, or commands duties which 
 it would cost him trouble or self-denial to discharge. 
 God's truth was given us for our guide, because 
 human wisdom, as a guide in religion, had proved 
 itself to be folly; and it is infinitely unreasonable 
 
182 SERMON X. 
 
 to substitute reason, or to pretend to substitute it 
 in God's service, for His own commands. God 
 has not given us commandments and ordinances 
 for our pleasure but our profit, and that He may 
 bring us into that obedience and subjection to 
 Himself which becomes us as moral beings, and 
 to train us to that holiness, without which no man 
 can see Him, or attain to the perfection and happi- 
 ness of which he is capable. It were not fit to be 
 a Religion for fallen beings, if it did not forbid us 
 many cherished indulgences, or command us 
 duties, which could not be performed without 
 self-denial and effort ; nor worthy of God to give 
 to weak and erring creatures, if it did not teach 
 them something higher and truer than their own 
 wanderings and uncertain speculations, and com- 
 mand them higher and holier duties, than in their 
 self-indulgence, they would impose upon them- 
 selves. The religion of Jesus Christ leaves us at 
 no liberty " to be as the heathen" that are round 
 about us, at no liberty to follow poetry or philos- 
 ophy, or science, to adopt easier creeds or more 
 attractive worships. It comes with the authority 
 of Almighty God. It comes sanctioned by such 
 displays of power as could have proceeded from 
 none but Him. It comes with such provisions 
 and displays of grace, as increase a thousand fold 
 the guilt that rejects it. 
 
 But it may be supposed, that though we may not 
 be at liberty to reject the truth of Christianity, or 
 any of its teachings for any other faith or doctrine, 
 we may exercise our liberty whether or not to place 
 
NO RELEASE FROM GOD'S SERVICE. 183 
 
 ourselves under formal obligations to profess and 
 obey them. But is it so ? Is it not sin to neglect 
 in any degree the Gospel of Christ. It is the duty 
 of those who are commissioned to preach the Gos- 
 pel, to preach it to every creature, to make disci- 
 ples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of 
 the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. 
 It is the corresponding duty of all persons to re- 
 ceive the Gospel, and to come by baptism and the 
 voluntary assumption of its vows, under formal 
 obligations to keep the covenant of God's mercy; 
 and then, as members of the Kingdom of Christ, 
 to walk in all the commandments and ordinances 
 of their Lord, to be diligent in His worship, and 
 constant and earnest in all the means of grace and 
 salvation. Under the Jewish Law not only was 
 he guilty who forsook the God of Abraham for 
 idols, but it was promised against him who re- 
 mained uneircumcised, that " he had broken the 
 covenant" and shall be cut off from the people. 
 Let no one think tha;t he can remain safely out of 
 the Christian Covenant, or at all diminish his ob- 
 ligations, by declining to take those vows which 
 we make in publicly professing our faith in Christ, 
 and pledging ourselves as faithful soldiers and 
 servants to live in obedience to his Commands. 
 The obligation to a perfect and constant obedience 
 is prior to our engagement to render it, and is as 
 perfect as the command of God can make it. It 
 is the way of life. We have no hope on any other 
 condition. By declining to come, then, formally 
 and voluntarily into the profession and promise of 
 
184 SERMON X. 
 
 obedience we gain nothing, while we may lose the 
 grace which accompanies obedience to His instruc- 
 tions, and which He is always ready to bestow, if 
 we are faithful, in aid of our plighted vows. 
 
 If we consider seriously, for a moment, what 
 revelations God has made to us, what costly sacri- 
 fices for our redemption, what large provisions of 
 means and of grace, what urgent solicitations He 
 uses by the ministry of the Gospel, and what large 
 promises He holds out to those who come to Him 
 in the spirit of humble submission and obedience 
 to His will, — we shall feel that we cannot disregard 
 His Gospel without the highest guilt, that we can- 
 not stand aloof from it without sealing our own 
 condemnation. 
 
 Prom which may God of His infinite mercy 
 save us. 
 
SERMON XI. 
 
 A FIERY TEST OP FAITH AND DUTY. 
 
 Daniel iii. 16. " "We are not caeeful to an- 
 swer THEE IN THIS MATTER." 
 
 Few pageants, so splendid as the dedication of 
 Nebuchadnezzar's image on the plains of Dura, 
 have ever graced this our earth. The Empire of 
 the Chaldees was at the height of its power. Its 
 magnificent Sovereign had extended his sway over 
 all the great monarchies of the time, and reigned 
 without a rival or an equal. He had overrun 
 Egypt, Assyria with its proud Capital was subject 
 to his authority, and Syria, Palestine, Arabia and 
 Phenicia, had been incorporated into his domin- 
 ions. How far East his Empire extended, the im- 
 perfect records of the times do not inform us, — 
 but in the account which is given us 'by the proph- 
 et, we see a man who has achieved all that was 
 worthy of him in the field, and was giving himself 
 to the enjoyment of his honors and the erection of 
 monuments to tell to other ages the story of his 
 greatness. Babylon rose to a pitch of magnifi- 
 cence, which had never been equalled, and per- 
 haps, as mere magnificence, and barbaric splendor, 
 has never since been equalled. It was the Capi- 
 tal of a Monarch of large capacity and boundless 
 
186 SERMON XL 
 
 ambition, unscrupulous in accumulating in this 
 storehouse of his wealth and show-house of his 
 greatness, whatever he met with in his conquests 
 that was rich or rare. As he trode upon the roof 
 of his lofty palace, and surveyed the vast city be- 
 fore and around him, his heart swelled, and he 
 exclaimed "Is not this great Babylon which I 
 have builded for the house of my kingdom and 
 the honor of my majesty?" But this was not 
 enough. The permanence of his Empire, hetero- 
 geneous in material and aggregated by power, 
 required something more to make it really one, 
 and he conceived the vast project of imposing 
 upon it a single worship ; and to this end he erect- 
 ed a stupendous image, rivaling in magnitude those 
 colossal statues which he had seen in Egypt, but 
 of costlier material, and from all the provinces of 
 his vast dominions he assembled the viceroys, the 
 governors, the judges, and all the great men, for 
 its inauguration and the commencement of its 
 united worship. 
 
 The King was absolute, and all earthly prosper- 
 ity seemed to be in the sunshine of his favor. 
 The great men with their numerous retinues 
 crowded to the Capital, bringing with them visi- 
 ble wealth and splendor from their respective 
 provinces; and, on the appointed day, the vast 
 throng of Babylonians and strangers, military and 
 civil authorities, soldiers and people, with crowds 
 of camels and horses in their rich caparisons, 
 spread themselves over the vast plain, already 
 brilliant with tents and banners and the light and 
 
A FIERY TEST OF FAITH AND D UTY. 187 
 
 showy structures of the East. Doubtless there 
 have been more devout assemblies; but in all that 
 vast throng, whatever there might be of concealed 
 envy, of rankling jealousy, of disappointed ambi- 
 tion, of designing malice, there was a shew of 
 homage, and as little likelihood of dissent from 
 the worship appointed by the Monarch, as in any 
 assembly ever gathered for worship. 
 
 There were men of different nations and differ- 
 ent idolatries. "Idolatry is not the nurse of a 
 scrupulous conscience, and in the tone of Baby- 
 lonish morals we find no suspicion of any princi- 
 ple, which might stand in the way of compliance 
 with the monarch's will. 
 
 What then was the meaning of the fiery furnace, 
 and the threat solemnly announced against all 
 who should refuse to worship the image set up by 
 the King? Was it that he suspected a spirit of 
 disaffection, and intended, by an exhibition of his 
 imperial severity, to awe it into submission? Was 
 it that he designed, by one significant example, to 
 make known his purpose to bring his Kingdom of 
 many peoples into complete unity by the force of 
 his power? Or was it that the same jealousy 
 which moved the princes of Darius against Daniel 
 a few years later, excited the courtiers of ISTebu- 
 chadnezzar against the same great man and his 
 fellow captives, whom the king had set over the 
 provinces of Babylon ; and not being able to find 
 any occasion against them except concerning the 
 law of their God, they had by flattery and plausi- 
 ble insinuations persuaded him to a measure. 
 
188 SERMON XL 
 
 tbeir real purpose in which they dared not make 
 known ? 
 
 Whatever it was, we know of no other result 
 than to bring these three holy men into apparent 
 danger, to the confusion of their enemies, their 
 own triumph, and the honor of God. 
 
 They were present at the solemnity, for they 
 were Princes of the metropolitan province, and it 
 was their duty to render to Caesar the things that 
 were Caesar's. They surveyed the vast assembly, 
 — ^they saw the furnace, — they heard the procla- 
 mation and the signal of worship, — but when the 
 multitudes around them, as with one heart, fell 
 down and worshipped the golden image, they 
 bowed not with them. That which was God's 
 theji would render only to GoD. 
 
 The devotion around them however was not so 
 profound as to leave them unnoticed. There were 
 not wanting those who watched and were prompt 
 to report their recusancy. The King is informed 
 that certain Jews, men whom he had raised to 
 high honor, had not regarded him, — ^that they 
 served not his gods, nor worshipped the golden 
 image which he had set up. 
 
 There was malice in the very form of the accusa- 
 tion. Every circumstance tending to exaggerate 
 their offence in the eyes of the fiery Monarch, was 
 insinuated, and I^ebuchadnezzar commanded to 
 bring them before him. 
 
 The sight of his long-tried and faithful servants 
 softened his passion, and he could not but be 
 reminded by it of his dream, and the interpretation, 
 
A FIERY TEST OF FAITH AND DUTY. 189 
 
 and his confession that their " God was a God of 
 gods, and a Lord of kings." But his threat had 
 been uttered and his commands resisted, before his 
 assembled Empire ; and that too by captives, whom 
 his favor had raised to power ; and he would have 
 shown himself a rare example of submission and 
 self-control, had he acknowledged, in the person 
 of these his creatures, the Majesty pf Heaven. 
 
 Instead, however, of proceeding at once to the 
 execution of his threatened vengeance, he proposed 
 to them another trial, and would fain persuade 
 them that their God could not deliver them out of 
 his hands. " If ebuchadnezzar, spake and said 
 unto them. Is it true, Shadrach, Meshach, and 
 Abed-nego, Do not ye serve my gods, nor wor- 
 ship the golden image which I have set up ? Now 
 if ye be ready that at what time ye hear the sound 
 of the cornet, flute, harp, sackbut, psaltery, and 
 dulcimer, and all kinds of music, ye fall down and 
 worship the image which I have made; well: but 
 if ye worship not, ye shall be cast the same hour 
 into the midst of a burning fiery furnace ; and who 
 is that God that shall deliver you out of my hands?" 
 
 Soothing can surpass the self-possession and the 
 calm courage of their reply. " O Ifebuchadnezzar, 
 we are not careful to answer thee in this matter. 
 If it be so, our God whom we serve is able to 
 deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and He 
 will deliver us out of thine hand, King. But if 
 not, be it known unto thee, King, that we will 
 not serve thy gods, nor worship the golden image 
 which thou hast set up." 
 
190 SERMON XL 
 
 They were not anxious what reply they should 
 make. As St. Cyprian (Bishop of Carthage) ex- 
 pressed it, when placed by the Roman proconsul 
 under similar circumstances, — '' In a case so clear 
 there needed no deliberation." The case was 
 clear, and they had only to express their habitual 
 determinatiofl. Whatever might betide them, they 
 would not violate their consciences ao.d the express 
 commandments of the living and true G-od concern- 
 ing idols, — " Thou shalt not fall down before them, 
 nor worship them." The commandment was plain, 
 and their duty was plain. The consequences were 
 in the hands of God. If He chose to avert those 
 which were threatened. He could do it ; if not, the 
 way of duty was still the way of safety, for they had 
 learned in the school of faith which looks beyond 
 the present, " not to fear them that can kill the 
 body and after thSt have no more that they can do, 
 but Him which after He hath killed, hath power 
 to cast into Hell." 
 
 Here was a singular as well as a sublime specta- 
 cle. The Conqueror of the world is in conflict 
 with three of his captive subjects — men who had 
 been faithful as subjects, faithful as officers under 
 his government, and row faithful in disregarding 
 his commands, because they conflicted with those 
 of God. The king evidently wished ,to save them, 
 but he had committed himself in presence of his 
 assembled Empire, and must proceed. Their 
 steadfastness defied both his friendship and his 
 power, and even while he commits them to the 
 flames he is conquered. 
 
A FIERY TEST OF FAITH AND DVTY. 191 
 
 Ifever before nor since has it been given to men 
 to witness a good confession before so many wit- 
 nesses. But these holy men had grace to be 
 faithful to the end. And, in the constancy of 
 these, His servants, as well as by His own won- 
 derful interposition for their preservation, did God 
 give testimony to His being. His power, and His 
 care for His creatures, in rebuke of the wicked 
 and stupid idolatry into which almost the whole 
 race of men had fallen. 
 
 If we were to propose the question, whether 
 these three children of the captivity did right in 
 thus exposing themselves to death, in adherence 
 to the commands of God, there would, I think, be 
 no dissent as to the answer. I have never heard 
 any sentiment expressed but that of admiration 
 of their heroism. They did right, nay, they did 
 nobly; no more than their duty, but a duty for 
 which they are to be honored, because it was one 
 in which most men would have faltered. 
 
 ""When we consider the situation of these men," 
 says an able commentator, " that they were stran- 
 gers and captives, at a distance from the land and 
 ordinances of God, and without any person to 
 countenance or encourage them, — that they had 
 been under great obligations to the king, — that 
 most of their countrymen, even in their own land, 
 were given to idolatry, — that they were not re- 
 quired to abjure the God of Israel, nor to enter 
 upon a constant course of idolatry, but merely, in 
 one instance, to comply with the king's humor, — 
 and that when the whole Empire was against them 
 
192 SERMON XL 
 
 and the fiery furnace before them ; when, I say, 
 these things are duly considered, we shall perceive 
 that this instance of heroic constancy and intrepid- 
 ity in a good cause, was scarcely ever equalled and 
 certainly was never exceeded by mere man, since 
 the beginning of the world." 
 
 They had the testimony of their own consciences, 
 they have the testimony of ours, and they had the 
 testimony of God. They were cast into the fur- 
 nace, but the fire which slew the officers of the 
 king had no power on them. They walked in the 
 midst of it without harm, and, when they came 
 out of it, "the princes, governors, and captains, 
 and the king's counsellors, being gathered together, 
 saw these men, upon whose bodies the fire had no 
 power, nor was an hair of their head singed, 
 neither were their coats changed, nor the smell 
 of fire had passed on them." The king, who 
 though a proud and imperious man was a mag- 
 nanimous one, acknowledged his defeat and gave 
 glory to God. 
 
 AV"e may derive instruction from considering 
 more particularly this act of heroic virtue, and this 
 wonderful interposition for its protection. Both 
 are instances designed for our instruction and 
 encouragement. God teaches us by precept, but 
 the precept is made more intelligible by examples. 
 And, in some of the more difficult instances of 
 duty, we might hold ourselves excused, and imag- 
 ine that so much would not be put upon the im- 
 perfect virtue of frail humanity, if we had not 
 before us such examples as that of the three heroic 
 
A FIERY TEST OF FAITH AND DUTY. 193 
 
 Children of the captivity, or of the Martyrs of the 
 Christian Church. 
 
 Let me recall you then to the simple but singu- 
 larly significant words of my text, "We are not 
 careful to answer thee in this matter," as express- 
 ing the very spirit of these holy men. 
 
 I have already spoken briefly of it and touched 
 upon its obvious meaning, — that, in so clear a 
 case, they did not desire to deliberate, they had no 
 occasion to weigh their words, as must sometimes 
 be done in nice and diflacult cases, lest they should 
 say either less or more than they meant. Their 
 purpose was to do their duty, and their duty was 
 clear, involving no nice distinctions, no difiicult 
 casuistry. And herein we have a mark of lofty 
 and matured virtue. However clear a duty may 
 be, if it involve difficulty and danger, men are 
 extremely prompt and ingenious in seeing reasons 
 for evading it ; and the chances always are, that, 
 if the mind is not fully resolved beforehand to do 
 that which is right, whatever the consequences, 
 these reasons, however worthless, will prevail, and 
 the duty be evaded. There are many men who 
 are willing to do it when it does not cost too 
 much; many who have so just a sense of duty, 
 and are so little under the influence of the ordinary 
 temptations to violate it, that they appear virtuous 
 and may be said to be virtuous in their measure, — 
 though they are not so armed in upright principle 
 as to stand against whatever danger, and to do 
 right at all hazards. "We know not what is in 
 other men, nor even in ourselves, till the trial 
 
194 SERMON XL 
 
 comes; but under ordinary trials virtuous principle 
 may be nourished, which shall prove itself suffi- 
 cient, by the grace of God, for extraordinary ; and 
 a steady determination to do right, by the help of 
 God, will be found a steadfast one. But it is a 
 determination to do right, not doing it from custom, 
 nor doing it because we are not tempted to do 
 otherwise ; it is doing it because it is right, doing 
 it from principle, doing it in obedience to the 
 commandments of God, which will train us for 
 the trial. 
 
 In the conduct of these faithful men there was 
 no seeking for compromise between duty and safety. 
 Safety was doubtless a high consideration with 
 them, but they knew well that, however much 
 they might value it, it had no title to share with 
 duty, and their duty they determined to discharge 
 unequivocally. They might have done as many 
 have done, before and since their time, — complied 
 with the mandate, but under a protest — conformed 
 and explained — bowed and declared that they 
 meant no homage to the idol, but only obedience 
 to the king. They might have urged that their 
 lives were important, that they were in positions 
 of great usefulness, not only to the Civil State but 
 to Religion ; and, had they been less fixed in prin- 
 ciple, might have persuaded themselves that they 
 ought to bend before the storm and let it pass, 
 and that, as they would do it with a good motive, 
 they might hope for pardon, if it might not be 
 quite right. Such considerations might easily have 
 occurred to them, and doubtless, if they had 
 
A FIERY TEST OF FAITH AND DUTY. 195 
 
 chosen to act upon it, the king would have ac- 
 cepted their howing, and their protests and expla- 
 nations would have gone to the winds. 
 
 In cases of clear and absolute duty, compromise 
 is utter dereliction. The straight-forward fidelity 
 of these holy men appealed to the consciences of 
 all that immense multitude by which they were 
 surrounded ; it was a testimony to the true God ; 
 it was an example of fearless integrity which 
 preached to many hearts, not without effect, which 
 is known only to Him who knoweth all things ; 
 and it led to the public confession and decree of 
 the proud Monarch, before the Estates of his 
 realm, to the honor of the GrOD of Israel. 
 
 l^ow change the picture, and figure to yourselves 
 these three men, having saved themselves by some 
 respectable evasion, and living on in their profess- 
 ion of attachment to the true religion and abhor- 
 rence of idolatry, yet known to have bowed them- 
 selves before the golden image; where is their 
 testimony, and what is it worth ? The highest 
 truth they knew they had denied, and who will 
 respect either that or them ? Who, from their 
 testimony, will account their principles any thing 
 more than preferences which education has made 
 their choice, but which no conscientious conviction 
 has made their duty? Who will rfegard a pro- 
 fession, which those who hold it may put off at 
 their convenience, as having any imperative claim 
 upon him to assume ? 
 
 We are at liberty, in matters of expediency, to 
 consult safety and ease and to weigh probabilities 
 
196 SERMON XL 
 
 and results; though even in these a man mjiy 
 show a mean and truckling spirit, by giving undue 
 weight to personal or low considerations. In mat- 
 ters of duty, there is room for no question but the 
 right. All other considerations are impertinent, 
 and tend merely to distract and pervert the judg- 
 ment. To ask even for the useful is out of place ; 
 for in all the higher instances of duty the right 
 will be clearer than the useful, and though we may 
 not so see it in particular cases, the right will 
 always be found to be the useful. 
 
 You cannot fail to remark the extreme prompir 
 ness of the reply of these Children of the captivity, 
 to the proposal of l^ebuchadnezzar. Their decision 
 was instantaneous. There was no parleying about 
 it, no stopping to consider whether they should 
 obey God or man. There may be, nay there must 
 be deliberation, when there is doubt as to the 
 duty, — ^but when that is decided there should be 
 none as to compliance with it. Hesitation and 
 doubt on this point is moral weakness, and gives 
 room for those suggestions which disturb the judg- 
 ment and lead to sinful compromises and sinful 
 compliances. 
 
 You will remark, also, the extreme singleness of 
 purpose in their decision. " "We are not careful to 
 answer thee in this matter." They manifest no 
 weak desire to make explanations. They consid- 
 ered nothing but their duty. How their act might 
 be regarded by the Monarch, or by others, gave 
 them no concern. They were to suffer the pains 
 of martyrdom, it did not occur to them to bargain 
 
A FIERY TEST OF FAITH AND DUTY. 197 
 
 also for its honors. This again is a clear mark of 
 their eminent devotion to God. The^e are many 
 who care little to be right, if they only seem so ; 
 there are many who would be right, but who are 
 also anxious to appear right; there are others, 
 and they are the chosen few, who, in their single 
 desire to be right, think little how they will appear 
 to others. This anxiety to save appearances gen- 
 erally defeats itself. The absence of every selfish 
 consideration is, in the apprehension of all men, 
 no mean element of virtue ; and that always gets 
 most credit, which has the least appearance of 
 seeking it. And so it should be. God's command 
 is motive enough for obedience, — ^the right of an 
 act is motive enough for doing it. 'So lower 
 motive can weigh in regard to it, without dragging 
 it down from its proper sphere. In the midst of a 
 perverse generation, unapt to understand the right, 
 the anxiety for appearances might easily lead to 
 modify the being by the seeming, and to defeat 
 the end of the lofty example — ^which does good to 
 mcD, not by coming to meet them but by drawing 
 them upward to itself. 
 
 There is another point in the character of these 
 men, which these observations naturally lead to, 
 and which is well worthy of consideration. They 
 were not men of an uncertain Faith. Such clear, 
 uncompromising, unhesitating, unsolicitous obedi- 
 ence, can come only of settled and firm convictions. 
 
 They had been made captives in early life, and 
 had been selected by the king to be trained for his 
 service ;• new names, of idol origin, had been im- 
 
198 SERMON XL 
 
 posed upon them as in a sort of pagan baptism, and 
 they were educated, doubtless, in the superstitions 
 as well as in the learning of Babylon ; for, in the 
 Oriental nations, not only was learning in the 
 hands of the Priesthood, but their science and 
 their theology were intimately blended. But their 
 faith in the true G-od was not unsettled. They 
 remained faithful, though surrounded by the faith- 
 less. Custom had not inured them to look upon 
 idolatry as a light matter, and a false philosophy 
 had not led them to excuse it as the worship of 
 the true GrOD, under a veil or through a symbol. 
 They had not learned to look on all worships as 
 equally good and 'acceptable, and all faiths as 
 equally true and safe, if only men had been so far 
 imposed upon or imposed upon themselves as to 
 believe them. Their faith was positive. It held 
 to realities beyond themselves, and independent 
 of all opinions. It wavered not through any false 
 charity, and was too well grounded to be moved 
 by interest. They knew in whom they believed, 
 they knew what they believed, and hence the 
 promptness and the repose of their decision. Our 
 convictions are of necessity the premises of our 
 actions, and, in all matters of duty, unsettled and 
 wavering principles can lead to nothing better 
 than unsettled and wavering conduct. 
 
 We do not measure virtue by its results. It 
 remains virtue whether followed by good or evil 
 fortune. But, although virtue is not virtue because 
 it produces happiness, it is nevertheless true that 
 under the appointment of God, and, as we some- 
 
A FIERY TEST OF FAITH AND DUTY. 199 
 
 times say, in the very nature of things, — it does 
 produce happiness, and is the surest road to it. 
 And Faith in G-od involves a belief that, whatever 
 trials we may meet with in the way of obedience, 
 it shall at last be well with the righteous. I look 
 upon the narration before us as giving, in the 
 remarkable deliverance of the three pious Jews, 
 an assurance of this, and as making manifest that 
 care which God always exercises over His obedi- 
 ent children. It is true, He interposed in this 
 instance in an extraordinary and miraculous man- 
 ner, but it was extraordinary only in the manner. 
 That Providence which is unseen is as real as that 
 which is seen ; that which proceeds with no inter- 
 ruption of the ordinary laws of nature, and brings 
 deliverance to suffering piety in the natural se- 
 quence of events, is just as real as that which stops 
 the mouth of lions or controls the violence of fire.' 
 Wf may look upon this wonderful transaction,' 
 then, as a sort of divine drama, in which it pleased 
 God to cause to be enacted before the pagan mul-^ 
 titudes who were gazing upon the spectacle (thati 
 He might represent visibly to their apprehension) 
 His being. His power, and His providence ; much 
 as He had done to the Egyptians in the plagues' 
 and at the Red Sea, and to the nation of Canaan] 
 at the Jordan, and in the fall of Jericho. He does' 
 not leave Himself without a witness, even to 
 heathen nations. Ordinary providence is gener- 
 ally slow in working its results, and does it by 
 means which are not striking. There needs then 
 something extraordinary, some such lesson as this 
 
200 SERMON XL 
 
 to teach men ; and we are not to regard this as 
 conveying no instruction because in manner it 
 was miraculous. 
 
 These three men, thus rescued from the wrath 
 of the king, evidently expected that God would 
 interpose in their behalf, — " Our God is able and 
 He will deliver us-;" though their obedience did 
 not turn on this expectation, for they add, "If not, 
 be it known to thee, king, we will not serve 
 thy gods." It is right for us, it is indeed a part 
 of faith to believe, that in doing the will of God 
 we may expect His blessing; and that, if it do not, 
 as perhaps generally it will not, come in the shape 
 of protection from the dangers which immediately 
 threaten us, it will in final and everlasting reward. 
 
 To THE Graduating Class. — In parting with 
 you, young gentlemen, who are soon to receive 
 Academical honors, and to leave the quiet of Col- 
 lege walls, I cannot express a better wish, than 
 that, like the three Children of the captivity, whose 
 heroic piety has been under our review, you may 
 have the shield of fixed and unyielding religious 
 principle to defend you in every assault of tempt- 
 ation; and to sustain you in the discharge of every 
 duty. Their life was not without its analogy to ' 
 the one upon which you have entered. They were 
 in their earlier days separated from the business 
 and bustle of the world, to be trained in the learn- 
 ing and the language of the Chaldeans, as a prep- 
 aration for being employed in public functions. 
 They went through their training, and were ad- 
 
A FIERY TEST OF FAITH AND DUTY. 201 
 
 vanced as they were found qualified. Their relig- 
 ious principle did not hinder their elevation, nay, 
 it was in a great measure the means of it; for, 
 although it was sometimes doubtless objected 
 against them to their prejudice, it was found to be 
 the source of such noble constancy in the discharge 
 of duty, and high trustworthiness, as could not 
 but be valued by those who had confidence to 
 repose in men, and trusts to commit to them. 
 
 You have been training yourselves by educa- 
 tion, ( with what fidelity, I refer to your own con- 
 science), for some position in life, which other- 
 wise you would have been unfitted to occupy. 
 You expect, in some form, the confidence of the 
 public, — perhaps to be called to public office, — 
 perhaps professional standing, — perhaps higher 
 social consideration. Education is a preparation 
 for either, but, in the sense of intellectual training, 
 it is not the whole preparation. You acquire 
 power by knowledge, but it is the power to do evil 
 as well as good, power for selfish as well as for 
 public ends, power to oppress as well as to succor 
 and defend. You must unite just principle with 
 your acquisitions, or you will be unworthy of pub- 
 lic confidence, and if by any acts you may acquire 
 it you cannot retain it. 
 
 You will be exposed to trials, not like theirs 
 whose example I have set before you, but possibly 
 as difficult to abide. God give you grace to sus- 
 tain them as nobly. You will not be called to 
 bow before a golden image, at the sound of trum- 
 pets, but gold is worshipped now as well as then, 
 
202 SERMON XL 
 
 with as devoted a homage, and in as utter viola- 
 tion of all duty to GrOD, Whose service is forsaken 
 for that of mammon. You will not he called 
 upon to forsake principle in obedience to the 
 caprices of a Monarch, but the multitude have 
 will and caprices too as well as kings, and you 
 may be tempted to shape your course by the views 
 of others, rather than by your own convictions — 
 to follow the available rather than the true and to 
 sacrifice principle to political or social expediency. 
 You will not be called to confess the true God in 
 presence of triumphant and arrogant idolatry, but 
 you may have occasion to profess unpopular truths 
 in the face of sneers and insult, and possibly to 
 the ruin of your worldly expectations ; and if a 
 furnace seven times heated does not threaten you, 
 it may be as hard to endure the lingering death of 
 calumny and abuse. 
 
 The severer trials of faith and principle are not 
 put upon all men. Few have the opportunity of 
 exhibiting heroic virtue like that of the three holy 
 children, none of falling like Judas. The trials 
 you will meet with are of the sort which are com- 
 mon to men, but you do not the less need princi- 
 ple — firm fixed principle — to enable you to come 
 out of them like gold tried in the fire. If not so 
 hard to endure as those more eminent ones, nei- 
 ther do they furnish the same motives for endur- 
 ance. They are without eclat on the one hand, 
 without utter disgrace on the other. They form 
 the common and the best training for poor mor- 
 tals ; for the small number of those who approve 
 
A FIERY TEST OF FAITH AND DUTY. 203 
 
 themselves under common trials and temptations, 
 shew that they are sufficiently severe ; and trials, 
 which address themselves to the sense of duty 
 only, not to inferior motives, are less likely to 
 cheat us with the mere shew of success. The 
 common trials of life also are our proper training 
 for the higher and severer; to which those are 
 always most exposed, whose course of life leads 
 them to higher positions and higher responsibili- 
 ties. If we are trained to obedience by these 
 ordinary- trials, and endure them with constancy 
 and fidelity, we have the best preparation we can 
 have for the ^traordinary ; if we fail in the 
 former, the latter can coijie only to complete our 
 ruin, and render our failure the more conspicuous. 
 
 The most important of these considerations, my 
 young friends, are not now brought before you 
 for the first time. I trust this is not the last time 
 they will be weighed. I intreat you to carry them 
 with you, as the principles upon which to form 
 your characters, and as the firm ground-work of 
 true success. Take care that you be grounded in 
 a certain faith, fixed in the clear revelation of Al- 
 mighty God, — not in plausible theories, although 
 fabricated from the very words of Holy Scripture. 
 Take care that your principles be principles, not 
 conceits, and that they be such as shall have the 
 steady concurrence of your conscience, and stand 
 firmest where dangers most threaten and terrors 
 overwhelm. 
 
 The pious children of the captivity, of whom I 
 have been speaking, had an early religious train- 
 
204 SERMON XL 
 
 ing, and let me say to you, that one of the surest 
 safeguards of Christian virtue and piety in our 
 times also, is in an early profession of the faith of 
 our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. It implies a 
 formed and settled purpose, which in itself is 
 strong, and it brings with it the divine blessing. 
 God honors those who honor Him. They that 
 seek Him early find Him. His spirit dwells in 
 His Church, and is imparted freely to all its faith- 
 ful members. He has instituted it as the house- 
 hold of faith in which we may be nourished up to 
 eternal life. 
 
 The relationship which has existed between us 
 for several years is soon to be severed. It has 
 been to us all, I trust, a source of pleasure and 
 profit. Let me assure you that I cherish you in 
 my heart, and I pray God of His mercy to go with 
 you when you leave these quiet seats, to give you 
 that wisdom in which alone man can be wise, and 
 that strength in which alone he can be strong. 
 May He conduct you safely through all the trials 
 of life, aid you in discharging all its duties, and 
 finally bring you to His everlasting kingdom and 
 glory. 
 
.SERMON XII, 
 
 GOD WITH US. 
 
 Matt. i. 23. " And they shall call His name 
 Emmanuel, which being interpreted is, GOD 
 WITH us." 
 
 It is a matter of history, that the hest men in all 
 ages of the world, and under all the varieties of 
 religious belief, have never been satisfied with an 
 atheistic philosophy. They have never been satis- 
 fied to look upon themselves as merely parts of a 
 great material mechanism, the products of mate- 
 rial laws, the workmanship of blind appetencies, 
 brought into being by no higher intelligence than 
 that which belongs to magnetized matter, and des- 
 tined to give place to other developments of mate- 
 rial revolutions, without responsibility for the past, 
 or hope for the future. There have been Epicureans 
 and Materialists, but they were not the earnest men, 
 the men who looked upon life as a serious thing, in- 
 volving duties and responsibilities. Such men see 
 more in life than pleasure, as they see more in the 
 world than matter. They see in its wonderful 
 structure, with its infinite adjustments of means and 
 ends, a directing intelligence. They discern in 
 Providence a purpose. They discern in man's in- 
 tellectual and moral constitution, a law higher than 
 
206 8EBK0N XII. 
 
 that of physical nature, and the image of an intel- 
 ligence, that can be no less than infinite. They 
 seek after God, and though they may be without 
 the light of revelation, they dimly discern Him. 
 They know that He must he, and the recognition 
 of His presence in JSTature, gives it life and soul. 
 They try to know Him better, and appeal to the 
 speculative reason to give them the theory of the 
 infinite. It puts forth its feeble essays. It -gives 
 them conceptions of Him as the first and absolute 
 cause, or discourses of Him as the soul of the world, 
 or it dreams of the world and all that is in it, as 
 but manifestations or parts of one infinite sub- 
 stance ; but its essays cannot compass all that nat- 
 ural reason sees must be true, and that practical 
 reason demands; and the conclusion is easily 
 come to, that the world by wisdom knows not God. 
 Therp are those who deny the reality of that which 
 the speculative reason cannot explain, as if there 
 was a single thing in nature of which this reason 
 can give the whole account. We know much — 
 much that it deeply imports us to know ; but he 
 knows little, who does not know that there are 
 questions concerning things that he knows best, 
 which he not only cannot answer, but will never be 
 able to answer. We have many deep convictions 
 which the speculative reason cannot solve. The 
 reason may very well see that things must be, while 
 it may be utterly at fault in determining the ground 
 or the mode of their being. The child knows that 
 there is a sun, which gives light and heat to the 
 world, but the philosopher knows not what it is, 
 
aoD WITH us. 207 
 
 or how, through so many millions of miles of dark 
 and frigid space, its light and heat are conveyed to 
 us. And not only the reflections of the thoughtful, 
 but the intuitive convictions of the multitude, 
 may satisfy them that there is a God, and that He 
 lives through all life, and is the life of all things ; 
 though that philosophy, which springs up in the 
 thought, and grows in the experience of the finite, 
 must necessarily fail to explain His nature, and 
 the manner of His workings. To the thoughtful 
 man, the world without God is a world ^vithout life 
 or light. Such a conception of it, has never been 
 welcome to any but those, who felt th.-it the law of 
 a higher intelligence must condemn them. The 
 good in all ages have loved to believe, as far as 
 they could get hold of the thought, not only that 
 there is a God, but that " in Him they live and 
 move and have their being;" that the laws of na- 
 ture are but the constant workings of His intelli- 
 gence; that its powers are but His power. 'No 
 sound theism holds it derogatory to God to keep 
 the world in His constant care, a care so minute 
 that not a sparrow falls to the ground without Him. 
 The hope of the good and just is not in the laws of 
 Nature, but in His Providence, and they believe 
 that as He made it, so He governs it, and that His 
 presence gives it life. They look to Him for pro- 
 tection from the evil that is in it, and -for its 
 remedy. 
 
 The theoretical views of God, which could meet 
 these instinctive convictions of right-minded men, 
 are found only in Revelation. The conscience of 
 
208 SERMON XII. 
 
 man had told him of God as a being who cared for 
 him and to whom he was accountable ; but spec- 
 ulative reason had made Him an abstraction, or a 
 mere political head of the universe ; or lost itself, 
 and all notions of individual accountability, in 
 pantheistic dreams. 
 
 Though some few heathen philosophers entertain- 
 ed notions of God, which were not unworthy of Him ^ 
 yet it was the doctrine of the Gospel that first rep- 
 resented, not only the truth of His nature and rela- 
 tions to man, but just answered the instinctive 
 convictions of the unperverted practical reason. It 
 represents Him at once as our Father, and our 
 moral Governor ; not as an abstraction but a per- 
 sonal existence, a spirit, omnipotent and eternal, 
 holy just and good beyond our highest conceptions 
 of these qualities ; infinite in His being, outreach- 
 ing by His omnipresence the widest extent of His 
 boundless universe, and yet present in full power 
 and with minutest care in every point of His crea- 
 tion ; filling every drop of water, and almost every 
 grain of dust with the wonders of organized life. 
 The conception the Gospel gives us of God, is equal 
 to all the demands of our reason. He is the abso- 
 lute cause — He is the infinite upholder of all things. 
 Possessing personality and will, he is neither an 
 absolute fate, nor merely the absolute substance, 
 of which they are mere manifestations, but their 
 moral Governor, and their Judge. He has moral 
 attributes, which inspire their confidence and love, 
 and at once draw them to Him and Him to them ; 
 and so He is their Father, and in Him they live 
 
GOD WITH US. 209 
 
 and move, in Him they have hope and joy and 
 strength. 
 
 For the first time He was fully revealed in Christ. 
 He was known to the Jews hy His own revelations, 
 but not in all His grace, because not in His high- 
 est works of grace ; and our Saviour said truly, 
 " 'No man knoweth the Father, save the Son, and 
 he to whomsoever the Son will reveal Him," It is 
 a proof that the Christian's conception of God is 
 the true one, that the false notions of heathenism 
 BO easily fell before the Gospel, even when its 
 peculiar teachings were repelled. The defenders oi 
 paganism were obliged to invent philosophical 
 fables to cover its follies and give them the resem- 
 blance of truth. "When St. Paul preached at 
 Athens, and took his text from the inscription on 
 an altar, " to the unknown God," he met with no 
 interruption while he told them of God that made 
 the world, and all things therein — that He was Lord 
 of heaven and earth, that He dwelt not in temples 
 made with hands, nor was to be worshipped by 
 men's hands, as though He needed anything; that 
 He had made of one blood all nations of men, and 
 detei-mined the bounds of their habitation; that 
 He was not far from every one of us, for in Him 
 we live and move and have our being ; and brought 
 out his practical conclusion, that, as we are the 
 ofispring of God, we " ought not to think that the 
 Godhead is like unto silver or gold or stone, graven 
 by art or man's device;" that the time for such ig- 
 norance was passed, and that God now commanded 
 all men every where to repent. He met with no 
 
210 SEEMON XII. 
 
 interruption, I say, in this part of Ms discoiij-ae, 
 though there stood upon the Areopagus, in full 
 sight of his hearers, the august temple of their 
 patron Goddess with her statue wrought in ivory 
 and gold, with greater art and magnificeace than 
 any other of all antiquity and perhaps of all time. 
 But when he spoke of Jesus, and the Resarreetion, 
 they mocked, and turned away from him as a set- 
 ter forth of strange gods, though some were will- 
 ing to hear further from one who had told them 
 so much that commended itself to their consciences. 
 The revelation of our Lord Jesus Christ, then, 
 was a revelation of GtOD the Father, and this we 
 may note as the first result of the Incarnation. 
 " He that hath seen me, hath seen the Father," 
 JSTot that He was the Father, but by His coming in 
 the flesh. He had brought the divinity nearer to 
 man. He showed Ih his works the divine power 
 and benevolence. He illustrated in His life the 
 divine holiness, and in His discourses He unfolded 
 the moral wisdom of God. " The Word was made 
 flesh, and dwelt among us, (and we beheld His 
 glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the 
 Father), full of grace and truth " — John i. 14. 
 Those who heard him were constrained to say, 
 never man spake like this man. Though veiled in 
 human flesh, He carried with Him the evidence of 
 the divinity, and the story of His short public life, 
 the wisdom of His discourses, simple and yet pro- 
 found beyond all other teaching, the character of 
 His works, and the power that attended both, can- 
 not be accounted for on the supposition of His mere 
 
GOD WITH US. 211 
 
 humanity. He was a divine person — Immanuel — 
 God with us. God had come nearer to man, and 
 had made Himself known to him in all His grace 
 and mercy. 
 
 The incarnation of the Son of God ! "We ac- 
 knowledge it to be a great mystery. Great myste- 
 ries however surround us on every side, and they 
 are not incredible because they are mysteries. 
 To imperfect understandings there must be mys- 
 teries, because there must be things which such 
 understandings cannot fathom. To the finite 
 mind there must occur mysteries in its efforts to 
 grasp the infinite; and we shall attain to that 
 knowledge of them which is competent to us, as 
 well as that which is most important to us, by 
 looking at them, not in their absolute nature, but 
 in their relations to man. "We cannot find out the 
 Almighty to perfection, but we can understand 
 His relations to us as our Father, our Creator, our 
 moral Governor, our Judge ; and we know Him 
 best, when we form our conceptions of Him from 
 these relations. If we attempt a more absolute 
 method, and work out a theory of the divine nature 
 from the idea of cause, or the idea of substance, 
 we lose ourselves in wandering mazes, and our 
 notions become false as well as impracticable. 
 
 We know God in His relations to man, and we 
 shall get our best knowledge of the incarnation of 
 the Son of God, by studying it in relation to the 
 Redemption of man from sin and death. 
 
 That man is a fallen being, is not only clear from 
 revelation, but will not be disputed by any one 
 
212 SERMON XII. 
 
 who knows himself. "We too often find, " that 
 when we would do good," as St. Paul expresses it, 
 " evil is present with us." " The good that we 
 would, we do not, and the evil that we would not, 
 that we do." It needs not a Christian conscience 
 to shew us this. It was the confession of a heathen 
 man, "I see and approve the good — I pursue the 
 evil." Ifow such a condition as this — a condition 
 in which we do not follow, nay, are scarcely able 
 to follow the right when we see and acknowledge 
 it, is a disordered one, and argues a subversion of 
 the proper adjustments of the moral being. The 
 deeper thinkers among the ancient pagan philoso- 
 phers saw and lamented this disorder, but they 
 could find no remedy. Nay, after all their enquiries 
 they were constrained to say, that they must give 
 over all hopes of amending the morals of men, un- 
 less GrOD should be pleased (by particular interposi- 
 tion) to send them some person to instruct them. 
 He has done it in the mission of Christ, Whose 
 coming in the flesh, we celebrate this day as the 
 greatest event in this world's history. It is too 
 poor to speak of it, however, as the greatest event 
 in the world's history. It admits comparison with 
 no other. It is the one event, without which the 
 history of this world would have been simply that 
 of sin unredeemed, and ruin without repair. 
 
 The problem of the moral wants of man was 
 greater than man knew, and though the earnest 
 and sober-minded thinker would turn to God, as 
 the only refuge, He alone was adequate to de- 
 vise, as He only was able to provide the remedy. 
 
OOD WITH US. 213 
 
 Christ's special mission was to recover the world 
 from sin, and from its alienation from God. He 
 came as a mediator between God and man. He 
 came to make atonement for the sins of men, and 
 thereby to open the way to their restoration to the 
 favor of God. He came to set up a spiritual king- 
 dom, in opposition to that prince of the power of 
 the air who rules in the hearts of the children of 
 disobedience ; a kingdom, the voluntary subjects 
 of which must be under His more immediate 
 power and protection, and under the administra- 
 tion thereof, aided in living in allegiance to God. 
 To accomplish these great ends. He became in- 
 carnate. To accomplish these ends, He who was 
 the eternal Son of God took upon Him the nature 
 of man. 
 
 It has been asked, " Was this necessary ?" And it 
 has been presumptiously answered, " 'So." But 
 can any one take this position without assuming 
 that he knows the whole of the case, that he un- 
 derstands tbe whole range of the purposes and plans 
 of God, the whole extent of the divine administra- 
 tion, and is qualified to determine what is and what 
 is not necessary under every possible emergency ; 
 that he understands the whole of the diseases of 
 human nature, and all that could be necessary for 
 its restoration. 
 
 Upon such a question, we are not, and cannot be 
 qualified to decide. It were presumptuous in us 
 absolutely to affirm, or absolutely to deny. What 
 God has done, it was undoubtedly best for Him to 
 do. What He might have done otherwise, than He 
 
214 8EBM0N XII. 
 
 has done, it is moi*e than folly for us to enquire. 
 That there was a necessity for the Incarnation, the 
 Holy Scriptures seem to leave in no doubt, though 
 they do not inform us of its nature. "Forasmuch 
 as the children are partakers of flesh and blood, 
 says St. Paul, He also took part of the same, that 
 through death He might destroy him that had the 
 power of death;" and again, "Every high priest is 
 ordained to oflfer gifts and sacrifices, wherefore it 
 is of necessity, that this man have somewhat also 
 to offer." But leaving this question, which con- 
 cerns not us, but the wisdom or the propriety of 
 the divine administration, we can see the congruity of 
 this arrangement with the wants of man, and the great 
 work of Bedempiion. 
 
 Having through His incarnation a human as well 
 as a divine nature, it is manifest to our apprehen- 
 sion, that our blessed Lord was more perfectly 
 fitted as representing both, to be the Mediator 
 between God and man. 
 
 But let us look at the subject more particularly. 
 According to the divine appointment, it was an es- 
 sential part of the work of mediation, that our 
 Saviour Christ should make atonement for the sins 
 of men, and in order to this. His incarnation was 
 obviously necessary. " Taking to Himself our flesh 
 and by His incarnation making it His own flesh. He 
 had now of His own although from us, what to offer 
 to God for us," (Hooker, b. v. § 51.) " When the 
 fulness of time was come," saith St. Paul, (Gal. rv. 
 4, 5,) " God sent forth His Son, made of a woman, 
 made under the law, to redeem them that were 
 
QOD WITH US. 215 
 
 under the law, that we might receive the adoption 
 of sons;" and again, (Heb. ix. 15,) "For this 
 cause He is the mediator of the l^ew Testament, 
 that by means of death, for the redemption of the 
 transgressions, they which are called might receive 
 the promise of eternal inheritance." The Incarna^ 
 tion made the Atonement by the death of Christ 
 possible. The union of the divine nature with the 
 human, made His death adequate to the great pur- 
 pose of atonement, adequate to the putting away of 
 sin, adequate to the vindication of the honor of the 
 law, even when the sinner is pardoned. But we 
 are to look at the death of Christ, which was thus 
 dependent on his Incarnation, as not only making 
 atonement, but as a moral power. " And I, if I be 
 lifted up," said our Saviour, " will draw all men 
 unto Me." What can so demonstrate the infinite 
 holiness of God, and His hatred of sin, and the 
 certainty of the divine judgment against it if un- 
 relieved, on the one hand; and, on the other, the 
 infinite compassion of God towards the sinner, — as 
 the death of His Son upon the cross ? Let it sink 
 into the hearts of men, that He who thus died was 
 the eternal Son of God ; that He came down from 
 heaven and was incarnate and was made man that 
 He might be crucified for us; and there is a moral 
 power established which will, by the grace of God, 
 work the regeneration of the sinner, fill him with 
 repentings for his sin, with gratitude for the in- 
 finite mercy and grace of God, and with devotion 
 to His service. 
 
 Another and obvious bearing of the Incarnation 
 
216 SERMON XII. 
 
 of the Son of God upon His work as a Mediator, is 
 that He was thereby brought into full sympathy 
 with human infirmity. This point is strongly 
 brought to view by the Apostle Paul. " We have 
 not an High Priest, which cannot be touched with 
 the feeling of our infirmities, but was in all points 
 tempted like as we are, yet without sin," (Heb. iv. 
 15.) And he deduces this obvious consequence, 
 " Let us therefore come holdly unto the throne of 
 grace that we may obtain mercy and find grace to 
 help in time of need." Every one who in his 
 heart believes this great truth, must feel the power 
 of this appeal. We may reason on the mercy of 
 God, and draw our conclusions, that we need noth- 
 ing more than the assurance that God is love. I 
 have nothing to say iii derogation of the delightful 
 confidence, which the pure in heart cannot but feel 
 in the love of God ; but man is a sinner, and the 
 more conscious he is of his sin, the more does he 
 feel that he has forfeited that love ; and a doctrine 
 like that before us cannot but address itself to hu- 
 man sympathy, and act as a powerful persuasion to 
 faith and confidence. You all know what a fear- 
 ful heresy has within our times received its crown- 
 ing sanction from that power, which claims to be 
 the highest in Christendom, and has been adopted 
 by a large part of the Christian world. The real 
 power of this heresy of the immaculate conception 
 of the Virgin Mary, and of her exaltation to be 
 the great intercessor between God and man lies 
 not so much in decrees of the Pope, as in its appeal 
 to human weakness, and the apparent and plausible 
 
GOD WITH US. 217 
 
 substitution of the tenderness of the Virgin Mother 
 for the rigorous justice of God. This profane doc- 
 trine turns the very mercy of Christ into severity, 
 and represents Him as moved to acts of clemency 
 only by the appeal of His mother. But it is enough 
 for us that we have One to look to as our Mediator, 
 who having become our brother in the Incarnation 
 voluntarily bore our grief and carried our sorrows. 
 "We desire to substitute no more merciful days- 
 man between us and God, than Him who volunta- 
 rily took upon Himself the likeness of men, and 
 became, for our sakcs, obedient unto death. 
 
 But let us take still another view of this great 
 fact. Having taken our nature into union ^vith His 
 divinity, Christ has sanctified it and given us an 
 example of a perfect man. " He has given us an 
 example that we should follow His steps." His life 
 has become to us a living law. It is not an imprac- 
 ticable example which He has set for us, for- it is 
 the finite perfection of His human nature, His per-" 
 fection as a man, not His perfection as a God, that 
 we are required to imitate. It is such a perfection 
 as uncorrupt human nature might have been capa- 
 ble of, and such as restored human nature may at- 
 tain through the powerful aid of divine Grace, sanc- 
 tified through its alliance with the divine nature. 
 He was, as a man, without sin ; and, admitted to 
 such a union with God as he has provided for us, 
 we too may aim at the perfection of our moral nar- 
 ture. He who gives us the example, gives us the 
 power to follow it; and as we are exposed to trials 
 and temptations, which might be beyond the ordi- 
 
218 SERMON XII. 
 
 nary measures of His aid, He has promised that His 
 grace shall be sufllcient and requires of us only the 
 faith to follow Him. The Christian life consists in 
 the imitation of Christ. We may study His life as 
 a perpetual lesson and encouragement, and we have 
 reason to thank G-od, not only that He was placed 
 by His incarnation in a condition to give us such 
 an example, but that He subjected Himself to so 
 many trials, and to such contradiction of sinners, 
 that we might learn our duty under its most diffi- 
 cult emergencies. And we may rejoice and give 
 thanks too, that virtues so hard to human nature, 
 as Christian meekness and patience and forbear- 
 ance, so trying often to the pride of man, have been 
 honored and sustained by an example not only 
 human but divine. 
 
 Such are some of the most obvious relations of 
 the Incarnation of Christ to the moral condition 
 and wants of man. I might. go on to point out 
 others ; that through His death He hath abolished 
 death, and triumphed over him who held the power 
 of death — that His Sesurredion is the example and 
 proof of our resurrection ; that at His Ascension He 
 carried His glorious body into heaven, and there 
 sits on the right hand of the Father, our Intercessor, 
 holdingthe sceptre of His mediatorial kingdom and 
 head over all things to the Church. But the sub- 
 ject is too large for one discourse, nay, it is too 
 large for time itself to disclose, and the praises of 
 redeeming love, the mysteries of the Incarnation 
 will swell the anthems of Eternity. But great 
 as this mystery of godliness may be in itself — over- 
 
aoD WITH us. 219 
 
 powering as it is to our faith, when looked at 
 simply, and abstracted from all its relations to the 
 moral wants of- man ; it becomes luminous, when 
 studied in reference to these wants, and to the great 
 work of man's redemption. And how great a work 
 was this, not only in our view, but in that of God. 
 If all sound theism teaches His care for His crea- 
 tures to be such that even the very hairs cf our 
 heads are all numbered, it is not difficult to believe 
 that He has a deep concern for the moral wants 
 of man, for his restoration to holiness, and the 
 capacity of endless and boundless happiness. Great 
 then as is the condescension of God in the Incarna- 
 tion, there is nothing incredible in it. It is the 
 condescension of a God ; and we who are constant- 
 ly sinning and yet spared, constantly forgetting 
 Him, though never forgotten by Him, know that 
 the forbearance of God is not to be measured by 
 human forbearance, His love. by human love, His 
 condescension by that of man. 
 
 The true history of the world is its moral history : 
 it is its history, as the theatre from which are dis- 
 played the wisdom and the grace of God — not mere- 
 ly the ingenuity of its mechanical contrivances, 
 though these are worthy of our highest admira- 
 tion; but His wisdom and grace in the training 
 and bringing forward against all the powers of 
 evil a host of moral beings, created in His own 
 image, for happiness and Heaven. 
 
 The great fact in this history is the Incarnation. 
 May God give us the grace to study it, and the 
 moral wisdom to understand it, as far as it is com- 
 
220 SERMON XII. 
 
 petent for us, as finite beings, to do so, and not 
 only to study and understand, but to observe and 
 do all the duties which it imposes upon us, and to 
 follow the hopes which it sets before us. 
 
SERMON XIII. 
 
 FAITH A LAW OF LIFE. 
 
 Habakkuk ii. 4. " The just shall live by his 
 
 FAITH." 
 
 The Prophet who uttered these words, though 
 full of the deepest convictions regarding the moral 
 government of God over the world, and His prom- 
 ises to His people, felt his faith sorely tried upon 
 both these points. He saw before him " spoiling 
 and violence," " the law slacked," " the wicked 
 compassing — about the righteous" and "wrong 
 judgment proceeding;" and when relieved upon 
 this point, and certified that judgments were 
 about to come upon the people for these things, 
 he was again perplexed by discovering that the 
 punishment was to be inflicted by a people farther 
 from God than they. The instruments of Divine 
 vengeance were to be a heathen people, who would 
 ascribe the glory of their successes to their own 
 idol gods ; nay, make them the occasion of vaun- 
 ting these idol gods above Jehovah ! How then 
 was the honor of Jehovah to be vindicated, how 
 righteousness and truth to be sustained in such a 
 condition of things as this ! He would wait and 
 see : He would stand upon his watch and expect 
 the answer of the Lord. 
 
222 8ERM0N XIII. 
 
 This recovery of a better mind was immediately 
 met by an assurance from above : " The vision is 
 for an appointed time ; at the end it shall speak 
 and not lie; though it tarry, wait for it; it will 
 surely come." In the operations of Divine provi- 
 dence there are infinite complications, wheel 
 within wheel ; and the motions, as in the heavenly 
 bodies, are sometimes apparently retrograde; but 
 they all tend to their destined end, neither hast- 
 ened by our impatience, nor hindered by our un- 
 belief. We must watch their evolutions, watch 
 in faith that He Who made all things will do all 
 things right. Our soul must not be lifted up 
 with conceit that our narrow view embraces all 
 truth, and hurry to the conclusion that movements 
 apparently inverted are in violation of order and 
 hastening to ruin. God will vindicate Himself. 
 He will vindicate the confidence that is placed in 
 Him, and " the just shall live by his faith." 
 
 From the limited capacity of our minds, which 
 under any circumstances can only see a little part- 
 of the far-reaching providence of God, or of the 
 general system of His natural and moral govern- 
 ment over the world, it must often happen that 
 appearances will tend to deceive us. A few phe- 
 nomena exclusively studied may lead to partial 
 and therefore false theories. Plausible specula- 
 tions in abstract science may divert the incautious 
 from that which is intelligible and true. Facts 
 selected and arranged for the purpose may be 
 brought to bear upon some utterly worthless hy- 
 pothesis, so as to give it plausibility; and also 
 
FAITS A LAW OF LIFE. 223 
 
 they may be so presented as to seem other than 
 they are, and thus made, to minister to false con- 
 clusions. Though in themselves real and inflexi- 
 ble they are often among the most difficult things 
 to be ascertained in their genuine simplicity, and 
 most liable to counterfeits. 
 
 But not only are we liable to be deceived from 
 the narrowness of our capacities, but we are under 
 temptation — from a restless and impertinent curi- 
 osity, or petty ambition of being in advance of 
 others — to abandon settled principles for some- 
 thing new. We are liable also to invent or to fall 
 into false theories because they coincide with our 
 wishes or sustain us in our perverse practices. 
 We are liable to be deceived by others, who have 
 fallen into error themselves, and set forth with 
 extravagant zeal the plausible appearances by 
 which they have been cheated ; or who — ambitious 
 of the position of leaders, or seduced by the insane 
 passion for notoriety — endeavor to impose upon 
 others their own inventions, sticking at no plausi- 
 ble fiction in their statement of facts and phenom- 
 ena, and boldly assuming principles, which the 
 timid, in face of their confidence, do not dare to 
 deny. 
 
 To such dangers we are always exposed. There 
 are times when from special circumstances they 
 are greatly increased, and perhaps in some form or 
 other every age has its special dangers and tempt- 
 ations. Our age is characterized by physical im- 
 provements and a vast increase of material comforts 
 and material wealth, and to these we attach great 
 
224 SERMON XIII. 
 
 importance. It is a practical age and self-confi- 
 dent, making every thing of its own experience. 
 It idolizes success and is in danger of mistaking 
 gain for godliness. It has little respect for what 
 it calls impracticable scruples, and settles many of 
 the great questions which former ages have handed 
 down to us, by denying their importance. Creeds 
 lose their mysteries, difficult points of faith drop 
 out of sight, and we flatter ourselves that we have 
 become charitable when we have only become in- 
 different. Another characteristic of the present 
 age is, that it is one of diffused rather than of pro- 
 found learning. The many are well informed be- 
 yond all former precedent. Reading gives such 
 ample materials that it takes the place of study, 
 and the learning of the educated comes to have 
 more of breadth than of depth. The taste for 
 speculation, and the disposition to gain distinction 
 by discoveries in science, are more widely diffused, 
 and we have many liTewtons and Bacons in a small 
 way. If their claims to attention are less, how- 
 ever, thq|^ are more forward in asserting them, 
 and they find so many minds just in tune with 
 their own, that the note they utter is caught up 
 and vibrates through a wide circle, till the impulse 
 is expended. We have seen prophecies interpreted 
 by men who have no critical knowledge of the 
 language of prophecy, and none of history, and 
 vast numbers moved to madness by their predic- 
 tions, till the finger of time has passed the fatal 
 hour in the usual serenity of its movement. "We 
 have seen philosophasters of this sort setting forth 
 
FAITH A LAW OF LIFE. 225 
 
 their laws of biology, and pretending to exercise 
 control over the thoughts and volitions of others 
 by a few passes, and crowds wondering after them 
 until curiosity had become stale, and the pretended 
 science went out. "We have seen pretences to 
 intercourse with the spirit world, begun in mani- 
 fest' imposture but continued Math an apt cunning, 
 deceiving many for no deeper reason than that 
 they were prone to be deceived, and of a temper 
 to be caught with such pretences. 
 
 We have seen Revelation assailed with curious 
 measurements of crania, and unresolved problems 
 in Geology or Ethnology ; as if she were responsi- 
 ble for our ignorance in nature or in history; and 
 as if knowledge were not a thing of slow growth, 
 and it were not a matter of constant occurrence 
 ♦,hat things unintelligible, even to the learned of 
 one age, should become well received truths in 
 .he next; and as if, too, Revelation had not already 
 sustained many centuries of conflict, too many to 
 be disturbed by assaults, which, in their general 
 nature, are new only to the ignorance of the 
 assailant. 
 
 Credulity may yield to such transient illusions, 
 but Faith says "I will stand upon my watch, I will 
 wait to see what He will say unto me, and what I 
 shall answer." 
 
 "Without faith man cannot sustain himself in his 
 integrity, amid the dangers which beset him. He 
 must have faith in something beyond himself^ 
 faith in something unseen, something which re- 
 mains fixed amid all the chanffes and chances of 
 
226 SERMON XIII. 
 
 this mortal life, amid the fluctuations in the opin- 
 ions and doctrines of men and the oppositions of 
 so-called science. 
 
 Though we are limited in our capacities, and 
 the speculative reason is often at fault in making 
 out a clear and consistent theory upon many 
 matters most interesting to us, and finds itself in 
 error after its best efforts, we are not under any 
 such necessity of falling into practical misjudg- 
 meiits as this might seem to imply. The specu- 
 lative reason is not the only guide given us orig- 
 inally by our Creator. "We are endowed with 
 practical faculties, which if allowed fair play will 
 often guide us safely where the speculative reason 
 fails. Conscience accuses and excuses us without 
 reference to any theory of morals. It discerns 
 the moral character of actions, and disci-iminates 
 between them by its own force. It is a Law in 
 our minds, as well as a Judge, — a Law written by 
 the finger of Him who made us, a Law transcend- 
 ing in authority any of our speculative fancies. 
 
 And there are other judgments upon practical 
 matters, which are in a similar way instinctive 
 and intended for our guidance. Good sense, or, 
 as it is often called, common sense, will often 
 guide us safely in the practical conduct of life 
 without the help of science, and not unfrequently 
 save us from being im.posed upon by pretended 
 science, or from the intrusion of real science into 
 questions which are beyond its scope. 
 
 Trust in suf^h instinctive judgments is not im- 
 properly called faith, for it rests on the ground 
 
FAITH A LAW OF LIFE. 227 
 
 that such judgments come from practical princi- 
 ples, implanted in us by the Author of nature for 
 our guidance. It is not human faith, for it is not 
 reliance on human testimony, nor the mere work- 
 ing of human reasoning. ISTeither is it Christian 
 faith; but it may serve to illustrate the fact that 
 man must live by faith, and to show how general 
 this fact is, and that the Christian demand oi faith 
 is not singular. 
 
 If one is tempted to do that which Conscience 
 disapproves, and the temptation is backed by the 
 prospect of great convenience or profit, and plausi- 
 ble reasons are urged to meet and set aside his 
 inward scruples, — how can he resist it unless he 
 has faith in the still small voice within, as the 
 voice of God, when it whispers its monitions. He 
 cannot preserve his integrity amid temptations to 
 dishonesty, his purity amid temptations to sensual 
 gratifications, unless he believes in his heart in 
 something higher than himself, in some Law which 
 does not bend to his wishes, — and if in a law, in 
 some Author of that law. 
 
 Man truly would have been left in a deplorable 
 condition by his Maker, had he been endowed 
 with none of those instinctive judgments, with no 
 conscience to give him intimation of his moral 
 duties, with no intuitive sagacity and good sense 
 to guide him in matters of every day prudence; 
 if he had no other use of reason than the power 
 to make inductions, to construct theories, and to 
 deduce conclusions from premises. He would 
 have been infallibly the dupe of ingenious specu- 
 
228 8ERM0N XIIL 
 
 lations, his own as well as of others ; the slower in 
 mind the inevitable prey of the more rapid. There 
 would have been no steadiness of judgment, for 
 possible theories are almost as numerous as the 
 possible combinations of facts and of thought, and 
 the newer and the more subtle would have dis- 
 placed the older and the more common-place. 
 We see intimations of the wild chaos of opinions 
 which would have resulted from such a condition 
 of things, in the facility with which plausible 
 follies, and the most groundless doctrines when 
 worked up into theories, even now gain currency. 
 If we had no instinctive moral judgment to check 
 the pruriency of speculation in morals and. to 
 restrain us in our conclusions, no instinctive good 
 sense to keep us from falling into impostures 
 which have been moulded into the forms ofscience, 
 what limit would there be to the multiplication of 
 designing imposters but that which bounds their 
 own power of invention. These practical princi- 
 ples are given to all, though not to all in the same 
 measure, but some are also gifted with such a 
 facility of believing every new thing, especially if 
 it be such as to flatter their "vanity or minister to 
 their wishes, that they cannot be kept from mak- 
 ing shipwreck of faith, and character, and happi- 
 ness, at the call of any plausible and flattering 
 imposture. The waking up of the popular mind 
 by popular education, is generally spoken of as 
 having given the death-blow to superstitions. It 
 has perhaps to old ones, but it is multiplying im- 
 posters, and we have seen that education does not 
 
FAITH A LAW OF LIFE. 229 
 
 save men from being dupes to the most arrant 
 cheats. It only makes it necessary that impostures 
 should put on an air of science, and pretend to a 
 more refined observation ; and it will be no mar- 
 vel if this nineteenth century, which we flatter 
 ourselves is the most enlightened age the world 
 has yet seen, should be distinguished in history 
 by the currency of transient and most unaccounta- 
 ble delusions. If a sound conscience and sound 
 good sense commanded, as they ought, more faith, 
 than shallow pretensions to some new discovery, 
 there would be little danger of Mormon or Spirit- 
 rapping delusions, or from the farce of Biology, 
 or the transparent turpitude of the professors of a 
 profligate morality, or from fanaticisms — scientific 
 — political — or religious. Little danger too of the 
 hasty reception of new discoveries, which pretend 
 to subvert all former knowledge, and to demon- 
 strate the folly of all that the soundest minds have 
 hitherto held as best established in Science, or 
 most sacred in Religion. Good sense may see 
 that human progress cannot — as History shews 
 that it does not — go on by erratic movements, by 
 jerks, or by accident. The sober and time-attested 
 achievements of the past age are the starting points 
 for the present, and the sober mind will never 
 surrender well-weighed conclusions at the call of 
 upstart pretensions. It expects discoveries, but 
 it looks for them in legitimate processes. It re- 
 cognizes the fact that they may come in ways not 
 anticipated. However they come, it will receive 
 them, if they establish their right to be received 
 
230 SERMON XIII. 
 
 by unequivocal proofs, but it will uot stultify itself 
 by surrendering all its established beliefs and all 
 it holds dear, to the demand of some green and 
 immature speculation. The fabric of human 
 knowledge is built up stone by stone, and, like 
 some of those grand material structures, the vast 
 and time-honored Cathedrals of the old world, it 
 is the work of age§. Each successive builder 
 studies the work of his predecessor, and adds to it, 
 and the edifice rises, till its finished magnificence 
 becomes the wonder of the world. ^Nothing but 
 shadowy forms rise like exhalations, and they 
 vanish as easily as they come. No great works 
 except those of destruction are the works of an 
 individual or of an age, and it is no proof of sanity 
 for one to assert seriously that he alone is wise 
 and all beside are fools. Good sense, then, may 
 recognize and resist pretensions, though it may 
 not have discovered the method of logically refut- 
 ing them, just as we may be sure that tricks of 
 legerdemain are tricks, whether we can explain 
 them or not. Such pretensions are tricks attempt- 
 ed upon our understandings, and as their strength 
 is in their confidence, so their assertions, whether 
 principal or sabsidiary, are all unfiinehing. The 
 weak yield, but he who stands firmly on his past 
 convictions, and knows their strength, is unmoved. 
 These remarks are not aside from my purpose. 
 I wish to show that it is a law of our being, that 
 we must live by faith ; that our confidence in our 
 own reason is not merely confidence in a logical 
 process, which we can distinctly state, or in facts 
 
FAITH A LAW OF LIFE. 231 
 
 which we can weigh and measure ; that we have 
 instinctive judgments of which we can give no 
 account, but which legitimately carry it against 
 the bravest theory, and may tell us without hes- 
 itation that our inductions are false, because there 
 can be no lie in that which our Maker speaks 
 unequivocally in us. These instinctive judgments 
 however are of no private interpretation. They 
 are not the judgments of an individual merely, or 
 they would carry with them no proof of the divine 
 authority. They are common judgments, and 
 therefore in their aggregate constitute that com- 
 mon sense, which when rightly interpreted has 
 such high authority. They are the Catholic decis- 
 ions of the human race, and are the best founda- 
 tions of philosophy. Sound philosophy accepts 
 them, and her highest aim is to interpret them. 
 
 But human philosophy, like human nature, 
 must be finite. It grounds itself upon phenomena 
 which can be embraced in a finite view, and though 
 it may be expanding with advancing time does 
 not promise to grow up into a perfect structure. 
 Successive builders are not working upon the 
 same plan, and each adding to the labors of his 
 predecessors. There are schools of -philosophy, 
 and each is busy in subverting the foundations of 
 the others as well as in laying its own. No one 
 has yet received the sanction of the common voice, 
 because no one has yet reached that lofty stand- 
 point from which it can see all and speak in the 
 name of all. Can man accomplish such a philos- 
 ophy ? It does not look like it. There are ideal- 
 
232 SERMON. Xni. 
 
 ists and materialists, there are Stoics and Epicu- 
 reans now, just as there were two thousand years 
 ago ; and though we have accumulated facts and 
 phenomena, and have learned the interpretation 
 of many of them, and have constructed many sep- 
 arate philosophies, — a profound all-embracing 
 philosophy, a philosophy which embodies the 
 deepest convictions and the faith of all, in which 
 every man shall find himself more profoundly and 
 truly and wholly than he can in himself, is yet, as 
 a philosophy, a desideratum. 
 
 But what Philosophy could not give us, the 
 Gospel has, not as a speculative theory, but as a 
 practical system of Faith. 
 
 It is revealed to faith — not merely to the under- 
 standing but to faith — the deeper inner reason. 
 
 It was necessary for it, at its first coming, to 
 produce its external evidences, without which it 
 could claim no right to reception. It assumed, as 
 it ought, the burden of proof, it produced its mira- 
 cles, and wrought them openly in the eyes of the 
 world ; it appealed to well known ■prophecies, the 
 record of which was in the hands of its enemies ; 
 and in both these, it challenged controversy. 
 
 It appealed to the nature of its works, as shew- 
 ing therein its deeper spirit. The blind received 
 their sight, the lame were made to walk, and the 
 deaf to hear, the lepers were cleansed, and to the 
 poor the gospel was preached. It worked by 
 awakening echoes to its voice in the hearts of 
 men, and many felt what one expressed — "E"ever 
 man spake like this man." 
 
FAITH A LAW OF LIFE. 233 
 
 With such proofs and silch appeals it worked 
 its way, aud was received by multitudes, in au 
 age iu which the learned were sceptics, and the 
 ignorant given to all the follies of superstition; 
 and upon the former it imposed a positive faith 
 which made unbelief a sin, upon the latter an ex- 
 clusive faith, which denounced unsparingly the 
 fond fictions of false religion, the auguries, the 
 oracles, the incantations which had held them as 
 by a spell, as well as the open worship of false di- 
 vinities. It oftered nothing to ambition, it held 
 forth no promises of secular advantage, it minis- 
 tered no flatteries, it required self-denial and the 
 cross, of all its followers, and yet it made its way, 
 and established itself, or rather was established 
 by the power of God working in it, and became 
 the religion of civilized humanity. Considering 
 its character, considering the age in which it ap- 
 peared, considering the array of hostile opposers 
 — Jewish and Gentile, oflicial and private, — the 
 educated philosophy and taste of the age, aud the 
 ignorant followers of its superstitions, — and con- 
 sidering who they were to whom the ministry of 
 this religion was committed, — its reception is a 
 phenomenon, to be accounted for by nothing but 
 its divine truth. 
 
 As it has come down to us it has come with 
 accumulating proof. It has left its record in every 
 asre. It has combatted, and combatted success- 
 fully, with popular prejudices, with the hostility 
 of false religions, with the subtlety of philosophy, 
 and with the might of civil power. It has made 
 
234 SEEMON XIII. 
 
 its way against them all, and gained not only the 
 understandings but the hearts of the high and the 
 lowly, of the learned and the unlearned. It has 
 not only received the homage of genius but in- 
 spired it ; and the great poets, the great artists, 
 and the great lawgivers of Christian times have 
 been profound believers. 
 
 The Roman Empire, under which it was first 
 established, has fallen, but it has survived and sub- 
 dued and civilized the conquerors. Amid the 
 changes of kingdoms and dynasties it has remain- 
 ed unharmed, suffering oftentimes from the mis- 
 representations of false friends, and from being 
 abused to purposes of ambition, as well as from 
 the attacks of enemies, but ever renewing itself 
 because it is instinct with the spirit of life from 
 God, 
 
 But the strongest hold it has on the minds of 
 men comes not from any external evidences, but 
 from its being a revelation to faith. It addresses 
 itself to the deepest and best sentiments of man, 
 and reveals him to himself. "When the woman of 
 Samaria said to her friends " Come, see a man 
 who told me all things that ever I did," she ex- 
 pressed a confidence in which there was little 
 chance for unbelief. The heart that knows itself 
 and has listened to the revelation of God, knows 
 that it is therein spoken to as by no other voice. 
 We may not understand this, if we have not en- 
 tered deeply into its meaning, or if our own deep- 
 er sentiments have not been so moved as to induce 
 us to listen to, and enable us to understand, that 
 
FAITH A LAW OF LIFE. 235 
 
 voice which " pierces to the thoughts and intents 
 of the heart." It is vain for the flippant objector 
 to pass his superficial comments on the words of 
 Holy Scripture. The soul which has withdrawn 
 itself from the vanities of life to deep and earnest 
 thought, the heart that has been touched by grief, 
 or taught the worth of things visible by bitter dis- 
 appointment, and the conscience which has been 
 quickened, may understand them; and when they 
 do, the words of the superficial objector pass by 
 them like the idle wind. 
 
 The common instinctive judgments of men find 
 themselves made clear in revelation. " Life and 
 immortality," of which the heart of man could 
 never abandon the belief, but which philosophy 
 could never make clear, " are" herein " brought 
 to light." Though the gospel was published in a 
 pagan age, pagan in' morals as well as in creed, its 
 whole doctrine of God, of man, of his accountabil- 
 ity', his fall, and the judgment to come, is all in 
 perfect harmony with the instinctive judgments of 
 men, and not only so but renders them so clear, 
 and so confirms them, that tiiey have the testimo- 
 ny of Conscience unequivocally in their favor. 
 
 What stronger proof can there be of any doc- 
 trine than that it explains all the phenomena to 
 which it relates? What but this is the proof of 
 the doctrines of modern Astronomy? It explains 
 the phenomena of the movements of the heavenly 
 bodies, embraces them in a simple law, and ena- 
 bles to calculate with perfect precision their posi- 
 tions in space. There may be, as there are, unre- 
 
236 SERMON XIII. 
 
 solved phenomena. "What then ? The Astrono- 
 mer is not led by this to' question the truth of his 
 past observations and deductions. He labors to 
 bring the new and reluctant facts under the great 
 physical law of gravitation, and into harmony 
 with what is already so well established ; and his 
 pains are rewarded not by the discovery that all 
 his past knowledge was futile, but by its extension 
 into new domains. There are men who assail the 
 Newtonian doctrine of gravitation, but their hay- 
 ings receive just the attention they deserve. They 
 go down the breeze and are forgotten. Now, com- 
 plicated and far-reaching as Astronomy is, it deals 
 with phenomena infinitely more simple and less 
 numerous, and less apparently at variance M'ith 
 laws, than Christianity. It is newer also and has 
 been subjected to fewer trials, from its conflicts 
 with the varj^ing phases of Science and of the 
 fashions of thought. Christianity has been for 
 more than eighteen centuries in conflict with Ju- 
 daism, — with Eoman paganism, — with the barbar- 
 ism which overwhelmed the Roman empire, — with 
 Feudalism, — with the reactionary and revolution- 
 ary age of the Reformation,. with the self-confi- 
 dence of young and regenerated Europe, — and 
 with the vices of her more advanced Civilization ; 
 and in all it has been found adequate to their re- 
 ligious and moral wants, whenever these wants 
 were felt, and adapted to them all. It has lived 
 through all stages of Science, and all the phases of 
 Philosophy. Its records have been sul^jected to 
 the severest criticism in relation to History, to 
 
FAITH A LAW^ OF LIFE. 237 
 
 Government, to Science, to Art, to the practical 
 life of man, to morals, to manners, to the course 
 of Providence ; and everywhere it has triumphed. 
 It has shewn itself, under every trial, the Wisdom 
 of God, and the Power of God. His Wisdom, in 
 that in its simplicity it is justified in every mature 
 application : His Power, in that it is working, 
 slowly and gradually, the way in which God ac- 
 complishes the great purposes of His providence, 
 the regeneration of men ; hindered, indeed, by 
 their perverseness, but producing, when allowed 
 to work freely, the highest excellence to which 
 human nature has ever yet attained. 
 
 What more divine testimony could it have had, 
 than it has had ? It is addressed to Faith, for 
 neither God, nor His workings can be submitted 
 to the senses, or made the subjects of demonstra- 
 tion; but Faith has enough to rest upon, enough 
 to warrant us to say with St. Paul, " I know in 
 whom I have believed." It does not take the forms 
 of Science, but it has foundations which cannot be 
 moved. Is it then to tremble before difficulties 
 of speculation, difficulties which are such only to 
 the weakness of human reason; or before some 
 new phenomena which seem to be in collision 
 with its doctrines, and which doubtless seem so 
 because they are imperfectly understood. Let us 
 act as the Astronomer, not suspend our faith, but 
 pursue our enquiries, sure that new knowledge 
 will only be new triumph. There will be specula- 
 tive difficulties, for it is the very purpose of the 
 Gospel to give us that which phenomena could 
 
238 SERMON XIII. 
 
 not give; and as to the occurrences of new phe- 
 nomena, and apparently incompatible, nothing is 
 more common in the history of Science; and the 
 resolution of such phenomena has been for the 
 furtherance of knowledge. It may be that new 
 discoveries will modify our past acquirements, and 
 if these acquirements are immature, such discov- 
 eries will subvert them ; but if they are ripe and 
 have grown up into consistent and well-settled 
 knowledge, new discoveries will only enrich and 
 expand them. If anything may claim to be in 
 this position, it is the Christian faith, which, be- 
 side the miracles which attested its origin, has 
 confirmed itself by the highest and best and most 
 inner experience of humanity, — which adds to its 
 divine planting, the growth of ages, amidst con- 
 flicts with every form of belief, of opinion, of spec- 
 ulation, of taste, of culture, and of civilization. 
 It is not too much to assert as the result of all 
 this, that Christianity cannot be false. It is too 
 timid to say — I feel the weight of your objections, 
 but I still must believe it. I say, let objections 
 come. It cannot be false. New attacks can be 
 nothing but new triumphs. Woe may be to the 
 men through whom they come, but new laurels 
 will be won to the faith, and there will come a 
 further expansion of that spiritual knowledge, 
 which like any other knowledge grows and ex- 
 pands by conflicts, becomes richer by the spoils of 
 time, and more and more exalts the man and the 
 humanity which receives it fully, and makes of it 
 a living reality. I have said, and I believe nothing 
 
FAITH A LAW OF LIFE. 239 
 
 can be more certain, that without faith in some- 
 thing beyond himself, something unseen, man 
 cannot sustain himself in his integrity. He must 
 believe that the distinction between virtue and 
 vice is a profound reality, though it is a thing 
 which he cannot see with his bodily eyes, — or he 
 will fall under the very next temptation that 
 assails him. He must believe in the authority of 
 conscience, though where it is and what it is, he 
 cannot see, — or he is not to be trusted for a mo- 
 ment. He must believe in God, or he can find uo 
 sanction for conscience and the distinctions of 
 right and wrong, and will put them all aside 
 when passion or interest demands it. So much 
 of faith the unbeliever in Chri:-.tianity may allow; 
 and many have contended that with so much, man 
 is sufficiently provided for as to his moral guidance 
 and that revelation is unnecessary. 
 
 If man wore in a state of simplicity and purity, 
 if his heart were uncorrupted by evil passions and 
 his conscience by false theories, if his desires were 
 all in harmony with his convictions of duty, — in a 
 word, if he had not fallen, — he might have needed 
 no revelation bej-oud that which he received in 
 the beginning. But from the start man has cor- 
 rupted his way before GloD. The .progress of 
 society and refi.nement, and the increase of wealth 
 and luxury, have invariably' brought with them 
 corruption of morals ; and the efforts of the philo- 
 sophic understanding to explain the mystery of 
 man's being and hopes, and to teach him to know 
 God and his duty, have done little else than to 
 
240 SERMON XIII. 
 
 darken counsel, and to bring into doubt that 
 which to unsophisticated practical understanding 
 seemed clear and certain; and Poetrj' and Art 
 have accomplished little more than to give per- 
 manence to the fictions of imagination, and to 
 throw a graceful drapery over folly and corruption. 
 It was not until it had become perfectly clear 
 that the world by wisdom knew not God, and 
 would know neither God nor its own duty and 
 hopes, that the Christian Revelation was given. 
 It was given to bring man back from his wander- 
 ings, to the simple truths of religion which at the 
 first he knew, to release him from the fictions of 
 philosophy, and the un\ifhole8ome dreams of Pagan 
 mythology ; and to provide for him not only the 
 knowledge of the simple and absolute truth of 
 God, and of his own spiritual and moral nature, 
 but Redemption from sin, which his past history 
 must shew him he needed, and that supernatural 
 Grace, which if he knew himself he knew he wan- 
 ted for the attainment of moral purity, which is 
 essential to the perfection of his nature. 'So man 
 can deny that Christianity has done what Philoso- 
 phy never could do in bringing man to just con- 
 ceptions of God, and that it has given to the worl'' 
 such moral teaching as neither did nor could gro^ 
 out of any pre-existing system ; that its teaching* 
 have been accompanied with a power such as no 
 School of philosophy could boast of; that it has. 
 given to the world countless examples of virtue 
 and moral heroism. Such as Paganism could scarce- 
 ly comprehend ; and that it has given to Modern 
 
FAITH A LAW OF LIFE. 241 
 
 civilization, a character higher and more hopeful 
 than any which has gone before it. 
 
 Take away Christianity from the world as it 
 now is, and what would follow ? We cannot go 
 back and pick up the abandoned faiths of former 
 ages, — and if we could, faiths, which would not 
 meet their wants, would be still farther from meet- 
 ing ours. And do we live in an age which has 
 no need of faith? Do not its multiplied resources 
 and refinements rather render a living and well- 
 settled faith more necessary than in any former 
 age ? Take away the belief in God and the recom- 
 pence of the future life from those, who, under 
 the accumulated wealth of the present age are 
 overflowing with the measure of self-indulgence 
 and self-aggrandizemeut, — take away the feeling 
 of religious responsibility, from the thousands who 
 are engaged in the infinitely varied commercial 
 transactions of the modern world, and in working 
 its exhaustless manufacturing power, — take away 
 from its science and its arts, its steam power, its 
 telegraphs and its presses, all living belief in the 
 Religion of Christ, and what would ensue. Let 
 the Prince of the power of the air, the spirit that 
 still works in the hearts of the children of disobe- 
 dience, come into uncontrolled possession of the 
 means and appliances of modern life, and what 
 imagination could unfold the horrors of the result. 
 Now and then we see what men can become, 
 when all faith is lost to their souls, and they are 
 left to their brute natures aided by a sharpened 
 but unsanctified intellect, — in the villians, who 
 
242 SERMON XIII. 
 
 sometimes make society insecure and set at defi- 
 ance the severest laws and the most vigilant gov- 
 ernment. We see what society itself would come 
 to if such loss of faith should be common, in such 
 scenes as those of the French revolution, — scenes 
 which drive men to believe in God as the only 
 hope in the moral chaos, and to look with anxiety 
 to the restoration of belief as the only escape from 
 a present hell. Man has all the passions of the 
 brute, with reason to guide and control them; 
 but if he chooses to act out his brute nature, and 
 uses his intellect as the minister of his selfish pas- 
 sions, to find the means and appliances for their 
 gratification, and to work out his purposes unre- 
 strained by a sense of accountability to a higher 
 power, there is nothing in the history of brute 
 nature that can parallel his power of mischief. 
 Society would be impossible. Calculations of 
 common advantage would restrain the feeble but 
 not the strong, and aggregations of men could be 
 nothing but tyrannies of the most hateful cast. 
 
 Ifow look at the other picture. The man who 
 is deeply penetrated with the Christian faith, who 
 believes not only in a general way in God and a 
 future life, but in the particulars of the Christian 
 Revelation, in the intimate relations of God to man, 
 as manifested in the Incarnation of the Son of God, 
 and in His participation of our nature for our re- 
 demption, — in the constant though invisible pres- 
 ence of God, and the means of grace which He has 
 instituted, — in the mission of the Spirit, — in the 
 necessity of daily living and growing in the spirit. 
 
FAITH A LAW OF LIFE. 243 
 
 — in the new birth and the new life of the Chris- 
 tian, — the necessity of an inward and all-pervad- 
 ing purity, — the resurrection of the body, — the 
 judgment, — and the life everlasting: — I say, the 
 man who really believes all this, — believes it not 
 only as he assents to a conclusion in Geometry but 
 with the hearty concurrence of his will, and loves 
 that which he believes and grows into it, — cannot 
 but be a good man of the highest and purest type, 
 living not for himself alone, but as a constituent 
 part of humanity, finding his happiness in being 
 and doing good. 
 
 Let such a faith pervade all the individuals of a 
 society, and there will be no need of bolts and 
 bars, no need of criminal law or its ministers, no 
 need of pledges nor of reform associations. Every 
 man will be a law to himself, and a living law. 
 
 All will work in mutual love and confidence 
 as God has appointed them, each having honor in 
 his sphere, and all enjoying their appropriate 
 happiness. 
 
 The Christian faith, and the Christian faith 
 only, — not as a doctrine or a theory or an abstract- 
 tion of any sort, but embodied in the Christian 
 Church, the Christian Oracles, the Christian Sacra- 
 ments, fully believed and earnestly adhered to, — 
 is adequate to all the wants and trials and tempta- 
 tions of modern life. What a fearful responsibili- 
 ty then do they incur, who are endeavoring to un- 
 settle this faith, and what incalculable evil may 
 not arise from the least loosening of the bonds 
 of religious conviction. And to the intelligent 
 
244 SERMON XIII. 
 
 believer, what can be more sad, than to see how 
 lightly vast multitudes hold by the faith by which 
 alone they can live. Never an age more needed a 
 full, clear and explicit faith than this, and never 
 one perhaps more abounded in the projects of un- 
 belief. The multiplied temptations which render 
 the faith so necessary, are stimulating such pro- 
 jects. The faith is a restraint and meets with re- 
 sistance. That which deserves to be reproved will 
 not willingly come to the light. The conflict of 
 light with darkness, which the old Persians fabled, 
 is still going on; and those who love darkness 
 rather than light, will seek to put the light out of 
 their way. There may be honest unbelievers, who 
 fail to believe because Christianity has been mis- 
 represented to them by the lives of its professors, 
 or their absurd speculations, and who see in it 
 nothing but a pretence ; but the vast majority are 
 enemies to the faith through the pride of their 
 hearts, or because their works are evil. 
 
 Addressed to the Graduating Class — My young 
 friends; The occasion on which I now address you 
 is interesting both to you and to us, your teachers. 
 You have been for four years under our guidance, 
 and we have directed your steps, in your youthful 
 studies in the fields of Literature, Science, and 
 Philosophy ; never, I trust, unmindful of the high- 
 er claims of Faith, nor failing to use such occasions 
 as might occur, of presenting these claims to your 
 attention. Knowledge is useful. Your minds 
 have received culture and discipline by your stud- 
 
FAITH A LAW OF LIFE. 245 
 
 ies; but it cannot be said of Literature or Science, 
 that the just shall live by them. We may live 
 better by them. They adorn and enrich. They 
 are a source of happiness and growth. But they 
 are not the life of the Soul. The things they deal 
 with are but as shadows, appearing in time, of the 
 infinite realities, which it is the business of Faith 
 to make us apprehend. 
 
 I trust you carry with you, not only creditable 
 attainments in Literature and Science, but such 
 a measure of Faith, as, properly cherished, will 
 enable you to live justly, and defend you from the 
 dangers which will beset you. You leave the 
 securities of college life ; its dangers, many would 
 say. I admit the dangers, I must assert also its 
 securities. The period of life which young men 
 spend in College, is just that of their greatest per- 
 ils, — the forming period, — the period in which 
 infancy is passing into manhood, and, without hav- 
 ing attained its wisdom, is disposed prematurely to 
 assert its rights. In College they are using their 
 young liberty under friendly guidance, and while 
 their minds are being stored with just principles, 
 they may be trained to habits of self-government; 
 — and though there may occur errors and failures, 
 many things to be reproved and many to be deep- 
 ly lamented, the result is usually good, and I ques- 
 tion whether there is any other position, in which 
 young men are ordinarily placed during this try- 
 ing period, from which they pass into manhood 
 so generally prepared at once for the duties, the 
 trials, and the temptations, of life. 
 
246 SERMON XIII. 
 
 » 
 The duties of life however are difficult and the 
 
 trials and the temptations severe ; and too many, 
 who enter upon it with apparently the best prepa- 
 ration and the fairest prospects, fail. It would 
 Badly disappoint us to see any one of you falling 
 under these trials and temptations, and making 
 shipwreck of your best hopes. That you may not 
 do it, hold fast to your faith. "Lead me to the 
 rock," says the Psalmist, " that is higher than I." 
 
 Cherish this faith in something higher and holier 
 than any thing which you can see. Grow into it, 
 by bringing it into all the deeper experiences of 
 your lives. Yon will see more and more of its 
 truth and its power. You will find it an anchor to 
 the soul, and that it is not a vain thing, but your 
 very life. 
 
 But let it be a definite Faith, not a poetic vision, 
 nor a philosophic ideality, but Faith in a God as 
 revealed to us by our Lord Jesus Christ. Let it 
 be living and operative, inspiring your thoughts 
 and your hopes, controlling your conduct and sanc- 
 tifying your influence. 
 
 My young friends, — our hearts and our prayers 
 go with you. We have watched with anxiety the 
 development of your characters ; we shall watch 
 with anxiety the result. You are a part of our 
 life. Your successes and your failures will be 
 ours. "We shall feel that we have a share in the 
 good that you accomplish, and our cheeks will glow 
 if you fall into reproach. 
 
 My young friends, — may God be with you, and 
 His image live in your hearts ; and if in the hurry 
 
FAITH A LAW OF LIFE. 247 
 
 of the battle of life you should at any time forget 
 ,Him, may He still defend you, and recall you to 
 the remembrance of Himself, and prepare you for 
 His glory. 
 
SERMON XIV. 
 
 THE LAW OF LIBERTY. 
 .James ii. 12. " So speak ye, and so i they 
 
 THAT shall be JUDGED BY TUB LAW OP LIBERTY. " 
 
 In order that we may understand the meaning 
 of Holy Scripture, we must interpret its language 
 in one place by its language in another, or, in other 
 words, by ideas which itself furnishes. If we in- 
 terpret it by the theories and views which exist in 
 our own minds, or by the current opinions of the 
 world around us, we may please ourselves in the 
 confirmation of our own conceits, or flatter the 
 notions of the age, but we shall be very likely to 
 fail of attaining that instruction, which it was the 
 purpose of God to convey to us. His thoughts are 
 not as our thoughts, nor His ways ours. In seek- 
 ing wisdom from above, we must hold in subjec- 
 tion our own. We must lay aside the conceit of 
 oiir own sagacity, and come to God in the humble 
 confession of our ignorance and blindness. We 
 must become fools that we may be wise. 
 
 On no point are we more likely to be led astray 
 by the temper and maxims of the age, than on 
 that which is brought to view in the text, the laio 
 of Liberty. Few things are so much talked of as 
 Liberty, It is the passion of the time. It is the 
 
THE LA W OF LIBERTY. 249 
 
 boast of one people, the eager desire of another. 
 It is the argument of the reformer, — the spirit- 
 stirring cry of the demagogue, and the hope of the 
 oppressed. It is a word to conjure with, and the 
 easily admitted defence of the popular agitations 
 by which the world is moved. 
 
 Were we to ask our age then, what is meant 
 by the law of Liberty, it would promptly tell us, the 
 law that all should be free, free to follow the dictates of 
 their understanding and their conscience, free to work 
 out their own security and happiness. And perhaps 
 some of its more enthusiastic representatives would 
 tell us, that man should be free to follow out all his 
 impulses; that all constraint is wrong, that he is a 
 sufficient law to himself, and that his errors, as well 
 as the evils under which he labors, are the conse- 
 quences of exterior laws and rules, interfering 
 with the freedom of his proper action. 
 
 It is very true that Christianity is the friend of 
 freedom. It teaches the master that he is subject 
 to the same law of God as his slave, and that he 
 shall one day appear side by side with him at His 
 righteous tribunal. It teaches him that they are 
 both made of one blood. It demands consider- 
 ation for the image of God, which the lowest bears, 
 as well as the highest. It restrains ambition, and 
 forbids oppression and cruelty, and enjoins the 
 law of kindness, to which none are too high to be 
 subject and none too low for its embrace, ^'dj, 
 it teaches the greatest, that his very greatness onlj'- 
 makes him the minister and servant of all. Before 
 such a religion oppression dies, and without over- 
 
250 SERMON XIV. 
 
 turning the order of society, and, as is too common 
 with human uprisings, abolishing one tyranny to 
 make way for another, it softens the diversities of 
 condition, fuses the chains of bondage, and brings 
 society to an harmonious and well-ordered brother- 
 hood, bound together by the mutual love and the 
 service which each renders to each, according to 
 the ability which God hath given him. 
 
 If its spirit were not restrained by the working 
 of human passion, and its operation by human 
 devices, it would have left little for the redresser 
 of wrongs to accomplish. It would, in its own 
 quiet way, have put an end to oppression, and saved 
 the world the agitation and the misery of revolu- 
 tionary struggles. The necessities of human soci- 
 etj would not have driven man to defend violence 
 and war, by an appeal to the G-ospel of Peace. 
 
 It is not however this Liberty, of which the text 
 speaks. It is something deeper, the freedom from 
 an evil, of which the tyrannies which figure in the 
 world's history are only particular and partial 
 effects. 
 
 What then is it ? 
 
 "We be Abraham's seed," said the Jews, on a 
 well-known occasion, to our Saviour, " and were 
 never in bondage to any man ; how sayest Thou, 
 Ye shall be made free ?" Jesus answered them, 
 "Verily, Verily, I say unto you, whosoevpr com- 
 mitteth sin is the servant of sin." 
 
 Our Saviour had promised them freedom, and 
 taking up hia words, in a sense which they were 
 not unlikely to suggest to a people uneasy under 
 
THE LA W OF LIBERTY. 251 
 
 a foreign yoke, they replied, with more spirit thau 
 strict truth.* 
 
 But the freedom which He promised them, relat- 
 ed to a bondage from which they nor any other of 
 the sons of Adam are free, the bondage of sin and 
 death ; a bondage brought upon them by the trans- 
 gression of our first parents, itself the fruitful par- 
 ent of all the evils and tyrannies under which men 
 suffer, the tyrannies of the lusts and appetites of 
 the flesh, the tj'ranny of passion, the tyranny of 
 falsehood and error, the tyranny of avai'ice, the 
 tyranny of ambition, and the lust of power. 
 
 By that first transgression our whole race fell 
 under " the law of sin and death," as St. Paul 
 expresses it ; not under sin and death merely, as 
 being incidentally liable thereto, but under the 
 law of sin and death. Sin and death became the 
 rule of human nature, and a rule without excep- 
 tion, for " Jews and Gentiles are all under sin" and 
 " death passed upon all men, because all have 
 sinned." 
 
 As the consequences of the fall are no incidental 
 thing, so the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ is no 
 incidental thing, but a provision as broad as the 
 evil. It is a law, for as the Apostle St. Paul says, 
 " the law of the spirit of life in Christ Jesus, hath 
 made me free from the law of sin and death." Here 
 
 *Perhaps they intended to say, "Being Abraham's seed, we have 
 never been in bondage to the errors of false teachers &c. But they 
 might disguise to themselves the bondage they were under to the 
 Eomans, by the freedom they really had to be governed very 
 much by their own laws, administered often by native princes. 
 
252 8EBM0N XIV. 
 
 we have the key to the text, " So speak ye, and so 
 do, as they that shall be judged by the law of Lib- 
 erty :" i. e., that law of the spirit of life in Christ 
 Jesus, which, and which only, makes us free from 
 the law of sin and death. 
 
 Most men are as unconscious of the bondage 
 they are under to sin, as the Jews in the time of 
 our Saviour, and would be as prompt to say, " We 
 were never in bondage to any man. How sayest 
 Thou, ye shall be made free?" They do not feel 
 that they can be in bondage while they are free to 
 act as they will, free to follow the passions and 
 desires of their hearts. They do not reflect that 
 they may be enslaved by that which they regard 
 as the very perfection of their liberty, that a de- 
 praved will may enslave them. 
 
 The test of slavery is not the feeling of restraint. 
 The maniac, who is pleased with his prison and 
 fancies it a palace, knows not that he is in bonds. 
 He moves about it with a princely air, and com- 
 mands and supposes himself obeyed. His will is 
 in harmony with his condition, and he feels as if 
 he were free. It is so with the slave of sin. He 
 meets with no restraints in following the desires 
 of his corrupt heart, and fancies himself in the full 
 enj oyment of liberty. He has liberty that he loves ; 
 but is he free ? Let him become sensible of his 
 folly and wickedness, and attempt a reform. Let 
 him resolve to break away from the service of sin, 
 and make the effort. He finds that though he 
 may be free to do evil, he is not free to do well, 
 that he is in bondage to sin. He is free as the 
 
TEE LA W OF LIBERTY. 253 
 
 ship is free, to go with the wind, but is baffled 
 and makes no head when he would move against 
 it. To be free indeed, he sliould be free to follow 
 the dictates of reason and conscience, to do that 
 which is right and best, to deny the flesh with its 
 appetites and lusts, and to walk without let or 
 hindrance in the way of righteousness and truth. 
 
 The liberty of a finite creature cannot be an 
 absolute liberty, for the very reason that he is 
 finite and a creature. There is only One being 
 absolutely free, because only One of absolute pow- 
 er. He only can say, " My counsel shall stand, I 
 will do all My pleasure," and that because He " is 
 God and there is none else." God speaks and it is 
 done; nay. He need not speak, — He icills and it 
 is done. As by His appointment many parts of 
 our body are immediately obedient to our own 
 slightest volition, so to His will are all parts of 
 the universe; and every thing and every being it 
 contains is held to an obedience still more prompt, 
 and altogether absolute. He therefore is absolute- 
 ly free, and He only. 
 
 Every man is but one of a multitude of equal 
 liberty with himself. His power is derived, and 
 subject to conditions. The immediate power of 
 his will in no case reaches beyond his own acts, 
 and the power, which his own acts can exert in 
 directing and controlling other things, depends 
 upon his acting in compliance with prescribed 
 conditions, — the laws of nature, as we call them, — 
 those rules by which the processes and changes of 
 nature go on according to God's ordering. Our 
 
254 SERMON XIV. 
 
 own nature has its laws, and it is only within the 
 circle of those laws, and in obedience to them, 
 that we can enjoy life and happiness. 
 
 If we seek it in any other way which is not 
 agreeable to the laws of nature, we fail. If we 
 seek to do any thing otherwise than in obedience 
 to these laws, we are disappointed. We find our- 
 selves restrained by them. They are the limits of 
 our power, for the very reason that they are the 
 sources of our power. For our power is not our 
 own. It is a power given us of working by means 
 and rule, and therefore within their range. Is 
 this an abridgment of our Liberty? JS'ot an 
 abridgment certainly, for power beyond this does 
 not and cannot belong to us. It is a limit to our 
 liberty, but a limit which belongs to the liberty of 
 which we as finite beings are capable. It does 
 not take away liberty. It only makes the liberty, 
 like our being, finite. 
 
 "We shall easily admit that the liberty of a finite 
 being is finite, and that a finite liberty may not 
 only be all that he, a finite being, is capable of, but 
 all that is necessary to his weS-being. Let us not 
 forget that a finite liberty can exist only under the 
 operation of law, or in a state of things in which 
 means freely and regularly accomplish their ends. 
 It is indeed the child of law, for finite power works 
 only by means. It is not, then, by an inconsist- 
 ency, as some would suppose who are more for 
 liberty than for law, that the Apostle speaks of 
 the law of liberty, for it is perfectly and necessa- 
 rily true, that for a finite being there is no liberty, 
 where there is no law. 
 
THE LA W OF LIBERTY. 255 
 
 ISor can that liberty be larger than the law. 
 We can accomplish our ends only by the means 
 which the law provides. We may choose an end 
 or not, we may use or not use the means for its 
 attainment, but our liberty does not reach to the 
 subversion of the established relations of causes 
 and consequences. He who wills an end must 
 will the means, nor can he complaiu, if he rejects 
 the means, that he cannot accomplish the end. 
 
 Thus the liberty of a finite being is at best finite, 
 but though finite it would have been all that was 
 convenient, as well as all that was possible for us, 
 had it continued unimpaired. It has been lost, 
 or, if not wholly so, greatly diminished by its 
 abuse. Our first parents sinned and brought the 
 whole race into bondage to sin. We sin volunta- 
 rially and rivet the fetters. We have become, to 
 use the language of the Apostle, " sold under sin." 
 " To will may be present with us, but how to per- 
 form that which is good we find not." " The good 
 that we would we do not, and the evil that we 
 would not that we do ;" nay, the perversion is so 
 complete that " we find a law, that when we would 
 do good evil is present with us." Through sin we 
 have become impotent to good, and whenever re- 
 turning convictions of duty come over us and lead 
 us to desire and seek for emancipation, the sad ex- 
 perience of the weakness of our better purposes 
 leads us to cry out with the same Apostle, " Oh 
 wretched man that I am, who shall deliver me 
 from the body of this death." 
 
 The bondage of man to sin, though generally 
 
256 SERMON XIV. 
 
 unfelt, is real and difficult to be broken. It is 
 unfelt, because it is not resisted. The strength of 
 a cord is not perceived till it is drawn, nor the 
 force of a current till it is stemmed. He dreams 
 not of bondage, who is daily doing without hind- 
 rance j ust that which he chooses to do. He thinks 
 not of restraints, who has thrown himself into the 
 current and moves freely with it, or has hoisted 
 his sails to a free wind. 
 
 But the wind will not be always free. Things 
 will not always accommodate themselves to the 
 wishes of a man, nor will pleasure always satisfy 
 him. Sooner or later, living without law will 
 bring him under condemnation. He will discover 
 that his way has been his follj', and may endeavor 
 to satisfy a quickened conscience and convictions 
 of duty with a better life. But the effort to amend, 
 will reveal the bonds of sin, the struggle against 
 them will prove their strength ; and the boast of 
 liberty is not unfrequently followed by a too easy 
 conviction that nothing can be done. 
 
 Leave man to himself and nothing can be done. 
 It is true, as our article expresses it, " The condi- 
 tion of man is such that he cannot turn and pre- 
 pare himself, by his own natural strength and good 
 works, to faith and calling upon God." " The grace 
 of God by Christ must prevent us, that we may 
 have a good will, and work with us when we have 
 that good will." 
 
 Befoi-e Chi'ist came, and beyond the range of 
 supernatural revelation, there arose, by the good 
 providence of God, teachers of righteousness ; but 
 
THE LA W OF LIBERTY. 257 
 
 their efforts to benefit their fellow-men, had much 
 the same success as the preaching of Jfoah, who, 
 though he daily demonstrated his own faith by his 
 works in building the Ark, persuaded none but 
 his own family to enter with him into that floating 
 Church, and be saved from the ruins of the world. 
 The purest systems of Philosophj^ were powerless 
 in reforming the world, and the lives of many of 
 the Philosophers shewed but too plainly, that there 
 might be fine theories in the head, and beautiful 
 pictures of virtue in the imagination, and the heart 
 never the better, nor the life the purer. 
 
 Every man who, having become sensible of the 
 wickedness and wrong that is in him, has seriously 
 endeavored to make himself better, has felt more 
 or less of the bondage of sin ; and every man, who 
 has sought to guide others in the way they should 
 go, has seen sufficient proof that it is not personal 
 to himself but an universal bondage, from which 
 his own skill discovers no certain way of release. 
 " Ye may give over all hopes of amending men's 
 manners for the future," said Socrates, "unless 
 God be pleased to send some other person to 
 instruct you." 
 
 Philosophy failed from an essential weakness. 
 It was an idea and not a power. It was a specula- 
 tion and not a law. God's grace gives man the 
 power to do that which, without it, he could not do. 
 He may be released from the law of sin and death, 
 by that law of liberty in which it has pleased God 
 to embody this grace. The law of the spirit of life 
 in Christ Jesus ( as this law is elsewhere called) is 
 
258 SERMON XIV. 
 
 a divine philosophy, but it is more than this, it 
 is a divine economy, a divine rule, and a divine 
 power. 
 
 It is a divine philosophy, as it contains the great 
 principles of natural religion, the doctrine of God, 
 the necessity of worship and of moral obedience, 
 and the expectation of future rewards and punish- 
 ments; and it is a divine philosophy made known 
 with greater clearness than in the teachings of 
 nature, and established by the divine revelation. 
 
 It is a divine economy also, providing not merely 
 for the government of man considered as a moral 
 being, but for his redemption and recovery con- 
 sidered as a sinner. And here it stretches beyond 
 the range of natural religion, for we have no means 
 of judging independently of express revelation, 
 what it would please God to require of a sinner as 
 a ground for forgiveness ; or in what way, if at all, 
 it might please Him to make His grace available 
 to a fallen creature for his moral restoration. The 
 highest stretch of human presumption would not 
 have anticipated such a Redemption as God has 
 provided, and now we almost stagger through un- 
 belief at the greatness of His mercy revealed in 
 Christ. i 
 
 Christianity is a divine poiver also, the power ot 
 God, unto salvation. But this power is a part ot 
 the divine economy, for it was as needful to man 
 to provide for his spiritual regeneration and 
 strength, as for the forgiveness of his sins. Hence, 
 after our gracious liedecmer had finished his pecul- 
 iar office, lie told His disciples that it was expedient 
 
TEE LAW OF LIBERTY. 259 
 
 for them that he should leave them, that the Com- 
 forter might come ; that He might come, Who is 
 the Lord and Giver of life, Whose office it is to 
 renew the soul and endue it with spiritual strength, 
 and who should ahide in the Church forever, the 
 source of life and power. 
 
 But the Gospel is a divine rvh also, — a law, " the 
 law of liberty," as it is called in the text, — " the 
 law of the spirit of life." There are great powers 
 in the universe, of whichman avails himself by the 
 use of means. There are great powers in the 
 moral world, and in the system of Redemption and 
 Grace in particular, which become available to 
 man, through means which God has graciously 
 appointed for his use. And as the practical study 
 of the laws of nature is the study of the means 
 whereby we may use the powers of nature, for the 
 promotion of human happiness in the various acts 
 of life, and in providing against physical evils, so 
 the practical study of the Gospel, is the study of it 
 as a law to us ; as the system of means by which 
 we become partakers of its grace ; as that " law 
 of liberty," through obedience to which we attain 
 the liberty of the sons of God. 
 
 Christ is set forth as an object of our faith. We 
 believe in Him. We believe in his Incarnation, 
 in his death for our Redemption, in His Resurrec- 
 tion and Ascension. We believe in the descent of 
 the Holy Ghost, and in His perpetual presence; 
 and if we do in truth believe these things, we shall 
 desire in some way to connect them with our own 
 life. It will not content us to believe only, we 
 
260 SERMON XIV. 
 
 shall desire to obey, if there are precepts to obey, 
 — to be conformed to the will of Christ, if there is 
 any expression of that will, — to be partakers of his 
 grace, if there are means whereby we may partake 
 of it. It is the very instinct of a true faith to be 
 active, and herein is its virtue. Faith without 
 works is dead. It is no faith. It may be a dream, 
 or a vision, but it is not faith. Faith takes hold 
 on realities, and it compels us to act towards them 
 as realities ; and if it cannot reach them directly, 
 it strives to do it through any means which may 
 have been provided. 
 
 Christianity offers us such means ; it is thereby 
 a practical system. It is a law not merely like the 
 civil, a matter of obedience to rule or precept, but 
 like natural, a system of means and ends, of causes 
 and effects. And this practical system, embraced 
 by faith, and obediently followed, becomes to us 
 the " law of liberty." 
 
 It is a practical system, grounded on the Re- 
 demption by Christ, and quickened by the indwell- 
 ing of the Holy Spirit, and appointed to connect 
 these powers of the world to come with the spirit- 
 ual regeneration of man. Christ has paid the ran- 
 som of our souls ; the Holy Ghost supplies our 
 weakness ; and in the faithful use of the means of 
 grace, or in other words, by walking in all the 
 commandments and ordinances of the Gospel, and 
 looking beyond them to God, the Father, the Son, 
 and the Holy Ghost, we find relief from the bon- 
 dage of sin, and a gradual enlargement into the 
 liberty of the sous of God. 
 
THE LA W OF LIBERTY. 261 
 
 This subject is not inappropriate to the present 
 occasion.* 
 
 "What is more needful for us at the outset of life, 
 than to learn the truth of our nature, not only its 
 essential dignity as made in the image of God and 
 allying us with Angels, but its fallen condition, 
 and to know too that there is provision for its 
 recovery. 
 
 And what more needful, than that the young 
 shall be taught from their earliest years, that law 
 of liberty, through which they may become free 
 from the law of sin and death. 
 
 The effect of the fall has passed upon all men, and 
 in the gracious purpose of God the remedy reach- 
 es as far as the disease. " As by the offence of one 
 judgment came upon all men to condemnation, so 
 by the righteousness of one, the free gift came 
 upon all men unto justification of life." We may 
 be straightened in our theories of Religion, but 
 we are not by the mercies of God. "We may all 
 become members of His covenant and receive of 
 His grace, and if we will but be obedient to the law 
 of the spirit of life we shall be made free from the 
 law of sin and the law of -death. None are exclud- 
 ed from its provisions. Unconscious infancy may 
 become the subject of the remedy as it has of the 
 disease. He who blessed little children now ex- 
 tends freely His arms of grace to receive them, and 
 has left an example of a child's piety. The young, 
 when they reach the period of more distinct and 
 
 * Sunday before Commencement, Geneva, Jaly 12, 1857." 
 
262 SERMON XIV. 
 
 conscious moral purpose, of clearer accountability 
 and increased danger, are called upon to renew 
 their vows and become participators of the higher 
 mysteries of religion, in which faith may be espec- 
 ially nourished ; and they are taught vividly the 
 evil of sin, and the richness of that grace of God 
 which has brought salvation. And, as life ad- 
 vances, there is more and more to be learned of 
 the fulness there is in Christ. Every new experi- 
 ence of spiritual want will shew anew the wealth 
 of that grace of Christ, which is equal to all our 
 necessities ; and the law of sin and death will be 
 met in the faithful, in all its workings, by the 
 law of the spirit of life, which is working for his 
 deliverance. 
 
 We cannot give the young, then, better counsel 
 upon their setting out in life, than that of the 
 Apostle, " So speak ye, and so do, as they that shall 
 be judged by the law of liberty," for so only can 
 they attain freedom and the perfection of their 
 natures. 
 
 The service of sin is a hard service, it is a degrad- 
 ing bondage, while the service of GrOD is perfect 
 freedom. The finest intellectual capacities are 
 sometimes rendered useless by vice. Powers 
 which might have led on to success and honor, are 
 prostrated by evil habits. They are checked in 
 their free action by low motives and the solicita- 
 tions of passion. Christianity is the emancipation 
 of humanity, it is the law of liberty, and he who 
 acts according to it, acts according to that law 
 which is the harmony of the world. He comes 
 
TEE LA W OF LIBERTY. 263 
 
 into his proper sphere in the moral universe ; he 
 comes into a concurrence of will with Him Whose 
 will is universal order ; into harmony with that 
 law, through which alone we have the power to 
 work. 
 
 If there is any man who can best act his part, 
 even in this world, and most certainly reach the 
 highest point of his capacity, it is the Christian. 
 "We know not how much the human mind may 
 have lost of its original dignity and power by the 
 fall, but lose in every way it undoubtedly did. 
 The bad condition of the moral nature obscures 
 the intellect, and the bondage of sin clogs the free 
 spirit. We would put the young, then, on the 
 surest road to honorable success, when we urge 
 them to be conformed to the law of liberty, to be 
 Christians. 
 
 Brilliant success, as the world esteems it, is not 
 for every man, but every man has a part to act in 
 life, inlportant, though it may not be conspicuous ; 
 and his success is as valuable to himself as the 
 most brilliant. Now every man at his entrance 
 into the world is subject to the law of sin and 
 death ; and if we look through the lanes and cor- 
 ners, over the fields and by the hedge-rows of the 
 world, we may see how large a portion of the hu- 
 man race fail, fail utterly, and lose themselves in 
 wretchedness and ruin. They follow the law of 
 sin, and it leads to death. They seek for happi- 
 ness where it cannot be found, in violation of the 
 law of God, and the law of their own moral being ; 
 and what can the result be but miserable failure ? 
 
264 SERMON XIV. 
 
 If we could persuade the young at the outset of 
 life to become the servants of God, and obedient 
 to the law of liberty, it is impossible for human 
 calculation to estimate the misery which would 
 be prevented, or how much would be accomplish- 
 ed for the promotion of happiness and of every 
 great object of life. 
 
 In the perverseness of sin, men may fancy that 
 this would be but exchanging one service for an- 
 other, and that it would be still but subjection 
 and slavery. But is it so ? The service of sin 
 binds us to the violation of the highest law of our 
 being, to that which the judgment condemns, to 
 that which is in itself evil and which leads to evil. 
 We cannot follow it and be at peace with our- 
 selves, or at peace with God. To be in this ser- 
 vice, then, is a bondage and a hard one. The 
 service of God, on the other hand, binds us to 
 nothing which the heart, or the conscience, or the 
 judgment condemns. It is in itself good, and pro- 
 duces nothing but good. It leaves us at peace 
 with ourselves and with every thing around us. 
 Is it not freedom, then, and the highest that we 
 can enjoy? !N'othing in the universe can be with- 
 out law, or answer its end if out of its proper 
 sphere. It was only in their perfect obedience to 
 law and the perfect harmony of their movements, 
 that the morning stars sang together and all the 
 Sons of God shouted for joy. Could they have 
 resisted their law and abandoned their spheres, 
 there might have been the lawlessness of chaos, 
 but no freedom, and no more song. It is so in 
 
THE LA W OF LIBERTY. 265 
 
 tlie moral world. Its law is its freedoro, and its 
 harmony its happiness. 
 
 We are apt to set out in life with a great deal 
 of the pride of opinion, and we shun taking upon 
 ourselves the obligations of Religion, lest we 
 should thereby abridge our liberty. But we are 
 not the less free for binding ourselves to do that 
 which we ought to do, and that without doing 
 Avhieh we cannot enjoy life or happiness. We are 
 not the less free for denying that perverse self-will 
 which bids us do that which Conscience forbids; 
 we are not the less free for subjecting to control, 
 passions, which carry us away in violence to our 
 better judgment. It is sin which is our real slav- 
 ery, and that law which gives us the means of 
 deliverance from it is the law of liberty. 
 
 The parent, then, is acting for the freedom of 
 his child, when he brings him to Gob in Baptism, 
 renounces for him the Devil and all his works, 
 and promises for him that he shall believe all the 
 Articles of the Christian faith, and keep God's 
 holy will and commandments, and walk in the 
 same all the days of his life. The young man is 
 acting for his own freedom when he comes, in his 
 own name, to renew the solemn vow which was 
 made for him in Baptism. He is acting for his 
 own freedom, when he habituates himself to the 
 holy Service of God's Church, and subjects him- 
 self to its discipline, and when he embraces, with 
 humble reverence, the Articles of the Christian 
 faith. He thus trains himself to that service 
 which IS freedom, and his mind is occupied with 
 
266 SERMON XIV. 
 
 heavenly realities, instead of the illusions of Satan ; 
 and he comes to know that which is in regard to 
 himself and to life and to God, instead of being 
 deceived and led as,tray by opinions and specula- 
 tions which are at once flattering and false. 
 
SERMON XV. 
 
 GENESIS ILLUSTRATED BY GEOLOGY. 
 Genesis i. 2. " And the earth was without 
 
 FORM and void." 
 
 I HAVE selected these words as the starting point 
 of some remarks on the Mosaic account of Crea^ 
 tion as illustrated by Geology. 
 
 I maj- premise that I do not mean, by seeking 
 illustrations of the Mosaic record from Geology, 
 submitting that record to the test of Geology ; for 
 I do not think Geology has acquired, as an inter- 
 preter of Creation, that certainty which is neces- 
 sary for so critical an office. Geology has, how- 
 ever, made some progress and may aid us in illus- 
 trating the Mosaic record; and the illustration, 
 if we can make it out in any degree, will serve as 
 a test, as such illustrations have served when 
 drawn from other sources ; and it may prove, as 
 others have, an additional confirmation of our 
 faith in the absolute verity of the Scriptures of- 
 truth. 
 
 Wherever allusions may be made in the lan- 
 guage of Scripture, to matters embraced within 
 
 * Introduction to the Sermon when used as a Lecture, February 
 15 1857. 
 
268 SERMON XV. 
 
 the range of any branch of knowledge, it is legiti- 
 mate io seek therein for illustrations of its mean- 
 ing; and we shall find its meaning richer, often 
 made more striking and distinct, by such enquiries. 
 
 When, however, we seek for illustrations of 
 Holy Writ from any foreign source, we ought to 
 be sure that what we allege in illustration or con- 
 firmation is well founded; and particularly care- 
 ful should we be on this point, when what we 
 allege seems to require any modification in the 
 recognized interpretation of the sacred text. 
 
 Human science is necessarily imperfect. The 
 theories which one age accepts and glories in, the 
 next rejects, and perhaps holds up to ridicule. 
 Even facts, as they are termed, are not always 
 found to stand the test of subsequent scrutiny. 
 Scientific facts require scientific observation. They 
 are often stated without their necessary conclitions. 
 They are often unskilfully genei'alized, and fuller 
 enquiry often modifies, and sometimes entirely 
 subverts, statements that have been very confi- 
 dently received. People are sometimes led direct- 
 ly, by what they look upou as facts, into the most • 
 arrant follies, and away from the most wholesome 
 and best established truths. 
 
 We should not lose sight of this imperfection of 
 Science, and this infirmity of our power of know- 
 ing, when we seek for the illustration or the con- 
 firmation of Holy Scripture from any exterior and 
 merely human source. Such caution would save 
 as from an error, which too many have committed, 
 the very serious and dangerous error, of discredit- 
 
GENESIS ILL TJSTRA TED B T GEOLOO Y. 269 
 
 ing the authority of a record which has stood its 
 ground against the assaults of eighteen centuries, 
 — because some ill-observed facts and phenomena, 
 or some imperfectly evolved theory, seemed to 
 contradict its teachings. 
 
 This just now is the most popular method of 
 attack upon Holy Scripture; and it is one of the 
 saddest of sights to see persons led away from the 
 most certain truths, and their highest interests by 
 some of the merest will-o-wisps of pretended sci- 
 ence, — false lights, born of corruption, and with 
 the power to blaze only long enough to mislead. 
 
 Arguments against Christianity have been de- 
 rived from real Sciences in their immature state, 
 as formerly from Astronomy, and more recently 
 from Geology. We shall see, as we proceed in 
 our remarks, whether the works of God, as indi- 
 cated by the structure of this earth so far as we 
 yet know it, are in contradiction to what we be- 
 lieve, on the warrant of proofs innumerable and 
 ii-refragable, to be His word. 
 
 But to pass on to the consideration of my text : 
 " And the earth was without form and void." 
 
 The earth, after the first act of creation, and 
 before it was furnished and made ready for the 
 use of man, was in a condition of which, of course, 
 we can have no knowledge by experience; a con- 
 dition to us altogether individual, and without 
 example. The words used to express this condi- 
 tion are not so. They are common words, in fa- 
 miliar use, and easily understood when they are 
 applied to subjects which we tinderstand. But 
 
270 SERMON XV. 
 
 familiar words, when they are applied to subjects 
 not familiar, may fail to convey clear ideas. Much 
 more is it so, when they are applied to subjects of 
 which we have absolutely no knowledge. Speak 
 to a blind maa in the most intelligible terms 
 about colors, and your words to him wdll convey 
 no meaning. He may, from some fancied analogy, 
 attach notions to them, but they cannot be con- 
 ceptions of color. 
 
 "Without form and void." We know what 
 these words mean when we use them with refer- 
 ence to things familiar to us, but what they mean 
 when used, as here, to describe the condition in 
 which the first efforts of creative power left this 
 globe of earth, we cannot know, merely from the 
 words themselves. It is idle to look for satisfac- 
 tory explanation in the principles of philology. 
 As well might the blind man search in philology 
 to become acquainted with colors ; and hope to 
 get by investigating terms, and tracing them to 
 their roots -in other tongues, that which other 
 men acquire by sight. 
 
 We can never have experience of such a condi- 
 tion of the earth, as that which these words de- 
 scribe ; but may not the investigations of Geology, 
 which for half a century past have been pursued 
 with so much energy and success, help us to an 
 explanation? May they not enlighten us, as to 
 those changes which have taken place since the 
 act of creation ? May they not shew us changes, 
 which under the operation of natural laws, have 
 covered the rugged face of the earth with a rich 
 
oi:ni:8IS ill ustbated b t oeolog y. 271 
 
 and fertile soil, and stored its bosom with treas- 
 ures for the use of man, so that when the time 
 came for placing him upon it, it was no longer 
 " without form and void," no longer unfinished 
 and unfurnished? To me, this seems to be a 
 proper enquiry, and it may be pursued with good 
 hope of a satisfactory result. 
 
 The point on which Geology has seemed, to 
 many, to contravene the words of Holy Scripture 
 and to convict them of error, is thz eye of the world, 
 or the date of the creation ; but going back from 
 the indications of Geology to the more carefal 
 consideration of the record, we shall soe an exam- 
 ple of the manner in which we are sometimes, by 
 things without, led to a better understanding of 
 things within. 
 
 When men formed their conceptions of the work 
 of creation from the very brief account of it con- 
 tained in the beginning of Genesis, it was not un- 
 natural for them to suppose that the whole of the 
 first chapter related to one definite point of time. 
 They were not aware that there was anything in 
 nature, which required them to distinguish be- 
 tween the original creation of the world, and the 
 fitting and furnishing thereof for the use of man, 
 or to indicate that this globe of earth had long 
 existed before man became its inhabitant; and 
 they cM not look for anything of this kind in the sacred 
 text. When Geology came forward, then, with 
 her discoveries of the successive strata which con- 
 stitute the Earth's crust, — with her proofs that 
 these successive strata must have been formed 
 
272 SERMON XV. 
 
 slowly and successively under quiet seas, wliile 
 successive generations of animated beings lived 
 and died and left their remains to be safely im- 
 bedded iu the forming rocks; — with her proofs 
 that there have been successive and slow upheav- 
 als and depressions, successive elevations of the 
 soil, and immersions under the primasval sea, and 
 all this before man appeared; — they were, of 
 course, startled, and went back to the record. 
 They brought new light to the reading of it, and 
 they found that the confusion they had made of 
 things distinct, is not made in the sacred text. 
 They read that " in the beginning God created 
 the heaven and the earth," and they are told dis- 
 tinctly that " the earth," so created, was " without 
 form and void." They read on, " And the Spirit 
 of God moved upon the face of the waters, and 
 God said. Let there be light and there was light." 
 The original act of creation is not confounded 
 with that which commenced when the Spirit of 
 God moved upon the waters. With that move- 
 ment of " the Author and Giver of life," began the 
 heavings of life in the vast inert mass ; with that 
 movement commenced the work of the six days. 
 The work of each of them was ushered in, in the 
 narrative of Moses, with the declaration " And 
 God said," intimating at once, not only the power 
 which was at work, but the distinct operation ot 
 that power in a new movement. 
 
 This discrimination of the act of creative power 
 in bringing into being the rude and unformed 
 earth, as given in the two first verses of Genesis, 
 
GENESIS ILLUSTRATED BY GEOLOOT. 273 
 
 from tte work of the six days, as commencing in 
 the third, is not, however, a new ijiterpretation, 
 hidden till called forth to meet the objections of 
 Geologists. Bishop Patrick, more than one hun- 
 dred and fifty years ago, speaks of some who thus 
 read the first two verses, — " When God first cre- 
 ated the heaven and the earth, the earth was with- 
 out form and void," and he speaks of this chaos, 
 as he calls it, as the first of the works of God. 
 
 If this interpretation were new, however, this 
 would be no objection to its validity. There is 
 more in Holy Scripture, than was known in past 
 ages; there is more than is known to this age. 
 Prophecy will be made clear by its fulfilment. 
 The wanderings of the Children of Israel, through 
 the Red Sea and the Wilderness, have been made 
 more intelligible by Geographical research. His- 
 toric difiiculties have been cleared up by the dis- 
 covery of monuments and coins, and there seems 
 no reason why accounts of God's works in nature, 
 obscure in the brief description, should not find 
 their explanation in the study of these works. 
 
 Before we proceed to consider the condition in 
 which creative power first left the Earth, let us 
 notice, for a moment, the declaration, that " in the 
 beginning God created the Heaven and the Earth." 
 There have not been wanting philosophers, who 
 declared that the Earth was eternal, and averred if 
 ever it were not, then it never could have been. 
 It might be difiicult to give a satisfactory refuta- 
 tion of this position, considered merely as a point 
 of speculation, but the discoveries of Geology 
 
274 SUMMON XV. 
 
 which have created so much alarm seem to accom- 
 plish it effectually. The Geologist sees clear in- 
 dications of the agency of natural powers, subter- 
 ranean heat, and the consequent volcanic forces, 
 the agency of air and frost, and agency of water 
 at work from the very beginning of things, — 
 working as he sees them now working, and pro- 
 ducing effects such as he sees them now produc- 
 ing. Hence the accumulated strata, with their 
 organic and mineral contents, and hence the fill- 
 ing up of lakes and valleys, and the formations of 
 these deposits at the mouths of large rivers, which 
 have carried the land so far into the ocean. Great 
 as some of these results have been, and far back 
 into the ages of a past eternity as the Geologist 
 may imagine he must go to find their beginning, 
 he must imagine a beginning somewhere. These 
 processes are not yet completed. The Mississippi 
 is carrying down vast quantities of earthy matter 
 in her annual floods to the Gulf of Mexico, but 
 though the land is encroaching upon the. water, 
 the Gulf is not yet filled up. The process may 
 have been going on for ages, but so far as any of 
 the facts or phenomena which come under our 
 observation go to show, it cannot have been going 
 on forever. 
 
 There was a time when these changes, now 
 incomplete and going on, commenced; and that 
 time doubtless was the beginning, when God cre- 
 ated the Heaven and the Earth. 
 
 If, now, we wish to ascertain the condition of 
 the Earth when it first proceeded from the hand 
 
GENESIS ILLUSTRATED BY OEOLOQY. 275 
 
 of God, in order to the interpretation of the text 
 let us imagine it stripped of all those strata, which 
 wrap it about like coverings, and which have 
 been formed by the changes to which we have 
 alluded. First, remove from it all those loose 
 earthy deposits, finer or coarser, which constitute 
 our soils, our sands, our clays and our gravels : 
 Then, the marls, the chalks, and other softer lime- 
 stones: Then, the sandstones, the marbles, and 
 the slates, with the deposits of coal and salt. We 
 are not yet at the nucleus, though we have stripped 
 the earth till we begin to see it in its original un- 
 formed and void aspect. Underneath these strata 
 are formations prior to all vestiges of life, and if 
 we may judge from their character, produced by 
 agencies which can hardly coexist with the life 
 either of plants or animals. Slaty granites, soft- 
 ened by volcanic heats, spread themselves over 
 the foundations of older rocks, and coarse con- 
 glomerates, accumulated in the convulsions and 
 the wear of furious elements, assisted in the rough 
 casting of this unformed globe. 
 
 Geology, for a long time a favorite because an 
 unlimited field of speculation, now repudiates 
 theory, except so far as it evolves itself from the 
 comparison of well-ascertained phenomena, — or 
 we might present you a picture of this chaos, in 
 which volcanic vents, now covered by the thick 
 deposits of subsequent ages, should be seen pour- 
 ing out upon the rugged surface granites and 
 lavas, now under the steaming ocean, now upon 
 the naked rock, now filling the air with stony 
 
276 8EBM0N XV. 
 
 fragments and volcanic dust. "We might speak of 
 vapors, rising from the warm ocean and condens- 
 ing in torrents, wearing and washing from the 
 surface of the heaving mountains, whatever water 
 could wear away or transport, to lower levels; 
 and the picture might not be wholly imaginary, 
 for there are not a few clear indications that such 
 wild energies were there at work, not, however, 
 without law, or without a purpose clearly defined 
 by the Maker and Euler of them all. 
 
 Out of this chaos, by the operation of these nat- 
 ural forces, grew gradually those changes which 
 fitted and furnished the Earth for the use of man. 
 Soils were formed, and a vegetation, such as suited 
 their nature and the temperature of the earth at 
 those ages, was made by creative energy to spriug 
 forth. The sea, also, began to bring forth fish, 
 and the fossilized remains of both are still pre- 
 served in their rocky beds, the records of this pri- 
 maeval epoch. The peculiar vegetation of that 
 period, rank and dense, and much resembling, 
 though surpassing in magnitude, that of tropical 
 islands of the present day, was the source of those 
 vast deposits of coal, so useful, nay, so indispensa- 
 ble to man ; deposits which are among the most 
 remarkable of those prospective provisions for the 
 wants of man, which everywhere appear in the 
 forming earth, and which show us the design of 
 God, in the peculiar character of the age in which 
 they were formed. At a later period were formed, 
 perhaps by the evaporation of saline lakes, vast 
 beds of salt, — the present mines of this valuable 
 
GENESIS ILL USTRA TED B Y QEOLOO Y. 277 
 
 article in some parts of the world, and the source 
 of salt springs in others. 
 
 I might recount the various formations of sand- 
 stone, and limestone, and of slate ; of marbles, of 
 plaster, of chalk, of marl, so necessary for the use 
 of man; the materials upon which, and with 
 which, he works to provide for himself protection 
 and defence, and so many of the comforts, and 
 luxuries, and elegancies of life. I might speak of 
 the formation of metallic veins and other mineral 
 deposits, from which he derives the implements 
 of his industry, the utensils which he daily uses, 
 and the media of all his commercial exchanges. 
 I might speak of the formation of soils, by the 
 comminution and intermixture of the oldest and 
 hardest rocks, out of which he gets his daily 
 bread, and out of which grow beauty and protec- 
 tion and shade and use, in art as well as food. But 
 if I knew it all, it would require more than a ser- 
 mon, or a volume, to tell it. This crust of this 
 huge Earth is composed of materials adapted to 
 meet the necessities and the demands of man. 
 He has been made an intelligent and active crea- 
 ture, fuller of wants than any other of its deni- 
 zens, and fuller of ingenuity to supply these 
 wants; and by the wonderful provision of GrOD, 
 there is never a want but the means for its supply 
 is beforehand provided ; and the whole extent of 
 human power to do, is matched by the means to 
 perform the doing. The treasures in this vast 
 store-house have become gradually known to man, 
 discovered as his wants have put him upon the 
 
278 SERMON XV. 
 
 search, and doubtless the^ are far from being yet 
 all known. There is left ample scope for the in- 
 genuity and research of future ages. The supply 
 is ready for the wants not yet developed. The 
 materials are ready for inventions not yet male, 
 and we may be treadiflg unconsciously upon what 
 will prove sources of wealth and power to future 
 
 It is these things, which the Earth at its first 
 creation wanted. It is these things without which 
 it was, as the text says, "without form and void;" 
 and how completely it would have been unfitted 
 and unfurnished for the use of such a being as 
 man, without them, how impossible to him all 
 art and all improvement, to say nothing of life, 
 you need not be told. 
 
 It may occur to some one to say, " might not 
 God have created the Earth originally and at once, 
 with all this material and garniture for the use of 
 man?" Undoubtedly: But the question is not 
 what God might have done, but what He has 
 done ; and it is certain that He did not bring the 
 Eai'th at first into being in such a condition, but 
 in one which His own word describes as " without 
 form and void ;" not a wild, disorderly chaos, in 
 which loose elements were raging madly without 
 law, or left to find for themselves a law, — but in 
 mass and material, though in proper Geometrical 
 form, not yet wrought to its perfect condition, to 
 that ripeness and maturity, which prepared it for 
 the habitation of. a race made in the image and 
 likeness of Himself. 
 
GENESIS ILLUSTRATED BY GEOLOGY. 279 
 
 And is not this according to His usual manner 
 of working ? He never shews haste in any of His 
 works, nor does He do by miracle, that which may 
 be wrought by the ordinary operation of His own 
 laws. We admire the depth and fertility of the 
 virgin soil, in the valleys and plains of many of 
 the newer parts of our own and other countries. 
 How has it been produced ? By the action of an- 
 nual floods washing in the finer particles from the 
 hill-sides and mountain debris ; and by the gro'nHJfi^ 
 and decay of successive generations of plffii^, 
 which, untouched by the hand of man; ''iiWe"^ 
 remained to enrich their parent ear,th. In^'a W^_ 
 analogous to this did the Earth itself, in a '^fe'l-reH 
 of longer and larger changes and through 'tn6i'^' 
 varied processes, become prepared for the first 6'f 
 our race ; who was placed upon it, not a sava^eV^ 
 but in a condition to avail himself of its resources, ; 
 knowing his Maker, and himself, and all things 
 about him, so far as he had need. We are iu 
 haste with our works, for we have but a short life 
 and a limited sphere. What we do must be done 
 quickly, and it seems a waste of time that the 
 Earth should have been in the forming process, 
 which Geology describes, for such untold ages. 
 We have a special and narrow purpose to accom-. 
 plish, and every thing intermediate we regard §.¥ 
 a necessity, and to be abridged if possiblfe.=>i''But 
 v/ho can define God's purposes, apiJ say., that 't)je 
 means He uses are means in,ciflrpseij§^ pf n,ece,s-, 
 sary preliminaries, that theiiprpfflfifises Haiadioptsi 
 are merely with a view to their reStiWs.'"''AiSd' 
 
280 SERMON XV. 
 
 what is lengtli of time to Him whose dwelling is 
 in eternity ? All the works of God in nature, since 
 the first creative act, take place by gradual proc- 
 esses and such as we call slow. An oak is many 
 years in growing from the seed, and man passes 
 through long years, before he reaches his maturity 
 in body and, mind, and is prepared to act his part 
 in the theatre of life. 
 
 And I think we may see a distinct reference to 
 man as an intellectual and moral being, in God's 
 having chosen to bring the surface of the earth to 
 its perfection by a gradual process, and not at 
 once by the simple energy of a creative word. 
 When, as a few years ago, a fossil fish or shell 
 was called a lusus naturce, a mere freak of the plas- 
 tic power of nature, enquiry with those who 
 admitted such an explanation went no farther. 
 But when it was recognized as the remains of a 
 living being of a former age, no freak, no illusion, 
 but a reality which came from something real in 
 the past, intelligent curiosity was awakened, re- 
 searches made, and the science of Geology was 
 gradually created. The key was discovered which 
 unlocks the treasure-house beneath the surface of 
 this fair earth, and Man is enabled to pursue with 
 more intelligence and skill his operations within 
 its bosom.* He sees more of the works of God. 
 
 * Here the Preacher briefly treated ( extempore) the following 
 heads. 
 
 How much has the science of Geology done for all the proc- 
 esses of mining? How many fruitless enterprises has it saved ? 
 How much has it done, directly or indirectly, towards the prog- 
 ress of the Arts ? 
 
GENESIS ILLUSTRATED BY GEOLOaY. 281 
 
 He sees in what manner many wonderful things 
 were accomplished, and though he may adore that 
 Power, which "speaks and it is done," he adores 
 it none the less, when He consents to work hy 
 means, means which he can see and study. It is 
 in following the processes of nature, the sequence 
 of cause and consequences, of means and ends, 
 that he discerns the wisdom of the God of nature; 
 discerns those marks of design, which demon- 
 strate the intelligence of the power that is at work 
 in nature. If we could see nothing of the work- 
 ings of Almighty power, could we understand it 
 as wise ? Could we free ourselves from the appre- 
 hension of it as a fate, a necessity ? Order itself, 
 might seem to us as springing from the inevitable 
 laws of matter and no proof of an intelligent will, 
 a mere crystallization determined by the polariza- 
 tion of the particles of matter. 
 
 The Astronomer is none the less devout, be- 
 cause he understands the order of the heavenly 
 bodies, and the simple laws of those forces by 
 which they are held in their spheres and perform 
 their evolutions. The student of Botany is not 
 the less devout, because he has studied the anat- 
 omy of plants, and seems to have approached 
 somewhat nearer to an inspection of their proc- 
 esses of nourishment and growth. The discovery 
 of the means which God uses to effect His purposes 
 in the course of nature, brings us as it were closer 
 to the contemplation of His wisdom ; and is the 
 means by which we are led to see that it is not a 
 blind power, not a fate, but a power acting with 
 
282 SERMON XV. 
 
 intelligence and purpose, to whieli we owe the 
 wonders of this fair creation. Though the study 
 of nature may have been perverted by narrow 
 minds to the confirmation of their own narrow 
 and perverted views, it can have nothing but a 
 wholesome effect upon one who is able to see that 
 there must be something in nature beyond nature, 
 power where there is the working of power, a 
 governing and controlling mind where there is 
 law and order, means working to the accomplish- 
 ment of ends, and purposes steadily pursued. A 
 vast field is opened to the study of the works of 
 God, by the investigations of Geology, because 
 they set before us a vast field of His operations. 
 They take us back to the time, and shew us as it 
 were the means, through which by His strength 
 He brought forth and set fast the mountains, and 
 gave to the sea its decree. 
 
 But Geology has some peculiar advantages over 
 any other department of physical science in its 
 theological teachings. It makes known to us the 
 works of God for unnumbered ages before man 
 was made, makes us acquainted with races of 
 animated beings, and apparently successive races, 
 such as do not now exist ; but in all time as well 
 as in all space, it shews such a majestic unity of 
 plan and purpose, as can nowhere exist but in 
 His works. The same principles of animal and 
 vegetable structure and economy are seen in the 
 remains of organic life in every epoch, the same 
 forces mechanical and chemical. Geology seems 
 to proclaim the unity and unchangeableness of 
 
GENESIS ILLUSTRATED BY OEOLOOY. 283 
 
 God through all time, as Astronomy does through 
 all space. 
 
 In the preparation of a world, then, for such a 
 being as man, gifted with the power of knowing 
 his Maker, and knowing Him through His works, 
 is it strange that the Creator should have so ordered 
 it, that in the course of it, ends should be accom- 
 plished by means, and that phenomena presenting 
 themselves to his investigation should be traceable 
 to their causes. In no other way, I would say 
 it with reverence, could the Creator submit His 
 work to the study of His creatures. What is 
 there to study when there is no process, no means 
 working to ends, no law; no second causes, in fine, 
 through which the first cause condescends to work. 
 And what, again, would man ever be able to learn 
 of these laws of nature, ■which he must know in 
 order to apply to his ordinary uses the produc- 
 tions of nature, if there were not natural processes 
 in which these laws could be studied ? 
 
 It is by one and the same means, then, that God 
 reveals Himself to man in His works, and reveals 
 to man that knowledge of nature, without which 
 nature would feed him as it does the beasts that 
 perish. He could not calculate, he could not lay 
 out plans, he could not work intelligently and to 
 a purpose, if all he could see in nature were re- 
 sults, and not processes. Instinct might lead him 
 to do, but instinct would never quicken into intel- 
 ligence, and be expanded. God, then, in nature, 
 addresses himself to man, by working by second 
 causes, i. e. by means which man can study, by 
 
284 SERMON XV. 
 
 processes which he can investigate. In this way 
 He opens to man the sources of the knowledge of 
 nature. The man, who has no heart to know God, 
 and no impulses for anything higher than immedi- 
 ate physical cause, may not see God in His works ; 
 hut it is not .these second causes that hide Him, the 
 fault is in himself. , 
 
 Such then is the interpretation which Geology 
 gives to the text. It maintains that "in the be- 
 ginning God created the heaven and the earth," 
 that the Earth is clearly not eternal, and that so far 
 as its investigations can proceed, it appears that 
 His Almighty hand gave it originally its nicely 
 adjusted form. It goes on to shew us analytic- 
 ally what was the original condition of this globe, 
 or rather what was wanting to it, and thus to ex- 
 plain in some measure, the meaning of the words 
 " without form and void ; " and shews us how this 
 want was supplied by the gradual formation of the 
 difterent strata, with all their vast and varied 
 stores of mineral products for the use of coming 
 man. It shews us the provident wisdom and good- 
 ness of the Almighty. It shews us strikingly the 
 unity of His plans and purposes from the begin- 
 ning of all things ; and illustrates his unchange- 
 ableness, the result of that infinite wisdom, whiclj, 
 free from the possibility of erring, never has occa- 
 sion to change. 
 
 Geology does no violence to the sacred text, in 
 thus suggesting an explanation which had been 
 overlooked. So far from this, that when once 
 pointed out, this explanation cannot be rejected, 
 
GENESIS ILLUSTRATED BY GEOLOGY. 285 
 
 "And the earth was without form and void." 
 This clearly cannot express a state through which 
 the Earth passed instantly, in the twinkling of an 
 eye, in coming from nothing to its complete con- 
 dition. It expresses and must be understood to 
 express a condition, not momentary, a condition 
 of greater or less continuance; worthy to be briefly 
 noted, as giving the key to help us when Science 
 should bid us seek for it ; but no further to the 
 purpose of Revelation, which is concerned with 
 the physical universe only in its moral inhabitant 
 — man. 
 
 This explanation cuts the knot at once of all 
 chronological difficulties. It says at once, Moses 
 himself makes the Earth older than man. The 
 chronology of his books is not the chronology of 
 this globe of "Earth, but the chronology of the 
 human race — counted by adding the ages of Adam 
 and his descendants. 
 
 But Geology goes further. It confirms the Mosaic 
 account that man was the last, as he is the crown- 
 ing effort of creation. Among all the strata, full 
 as they are of the remains of inferior animals, of 
 shell and other fish in the lower, of reptiles higher 
 up, of quadrupeds in some of the latest : there are 
 found no remains of man, in any such position as 
 to remove them beyond the reach of the present 
 acknowledged historical period. However ancient 
 it may make the Earth, it proclaims that man is a 
 modern creation; I say a modern creation, for it 
 finds no shadow of proof, no hint even, among the 
 myriads of organic forms which it has discovered, 
 
286 SERMON XV. 
 
 of the development of man from some inferior 
 form of animal life. It finds no abortive efforts at 
 man, no immature specimens of humanityj no 
 trials unsuccessful and cast aside. When he ap- 
 pears at all, it is as a perfect man. And so it is 
 with all the organic creatures of God. There is 
 no trace whatever of that process which has been 
 called "development" in their formation. As 
 soon as they appear, they appear in their com- 
 pleteness. They appear as new creation,, just as 
 they are described in the sacred text, complete and 
 completely adapted to the life assigned them ; so 
 that over each creation must have been pronounced 
 the words, "and God saw that it was good." 
 
 In my remarks thus far, I have spoken of the 
 processes of creation, by which the Earth, after it 
 was brought into being, was carried on to that 
 perfect state in which it was ready for habitation 
 by a being made in the image of his Maker, as 
 these processes are made known by Geological 
 research. "We find therein, confirmation of the 
 intimation in Holy Scripture that this was some 
 thing distinct from the original creation, and a 
 more definite meaning is given to the statement 
 that the Earth as originally created was "without 
 form and void." I have, however, said nothing 
 of the division of this process into the six days, 
 which form so prominent and peculiar a feature 
 in the sacred narrative. 
 
 It is an important question, — does this division 
 find any illustration in Geological investigation ? 
 Some cut short the enquiry, by assuming that the 
 
GENESIS ILL USTBA TED B Y GEOLOG Y. 287 
 
 processes we have referred to, were prior to the 
 work of the six days, that these six days were nat- 
 ural days of twenty-four hours in length, and that 
 the work of these days was the arranging of this 
 finished Earth, and placing upon it its new forms 
 of animal and vegetable life. 
 
 It seems to me, however, that these six days 
 cover the time of this forming period, and that 
 the history contained in them, though not express- 
 ed in scientific language, is yet an intelligible, and 
 so far as it goes, an authentic account of the for- 
 mation of the Earth. I say intelligible not that 
 there will not arise numerous questions of which 
 the account gives no solution, or that we can 
 understand the account in the same full way, that 
 we can understand accounts of things within the 
 range of our ordinary experience. The question 
 then, is, can we find in Geology any illustration 
 and consequent confirmation of this account, so 
 exhibited in chronological order. 
 
 Let it be remembered, what Geology professes 
 to be, the science which treats not of the mass of 
 the Earth, its density and its relations as one of 
 the planetary bodies, but of its superficial strata, 
 their characters, their order, their structure, their 
 contents mineral and fossil, and the method of 
 their formation. It knows nothing of those 
 changes, which the Earth may have gone through 
 before the phenomena commenced which fall prop- 
 erly under its examination. Of the original for- 
 mation of the globe, it has legitimately nothing to 
 ofter. Its researches lie wholly in its epidermis. 
 
288 SERMON XV. 
 
 Of the work of several of the creative days, it 
 would be out of its sphere to speak. It knows 
 nothing of the formation of the lights the work of 
 the first day ; nothing of the atmosphere, though 
 it studies atmospheric effects upon the rocks, but 
 as a part of creation the work of the second day ; 
 and of the uplifting of the clouds, the waters 
 above the firmament, and their separation from 
 those which still overflowed the Earth, it has noth- 
 ing to propose. In regard to the work of these 
 two days or the condition in which they represent 
 the Earth, there is nothing so far as I know, which 
 Science has to object, and very little which she can 
 bring forward by way of illustration. The repre- 
 sentation that the Earth was then covered with 
 water is in harmony with what we learn from 
 Geology, which considers the strata as having all 
 been formed under a superincumbent sea. 
 
 We come then to the work of the third day, the 
 emergence of the dry land from the bosom of the 
 waters, the separation of land and sea, and the 
 springing forth of vegetable life. Geology may 
 here be summoned. It recognizes the upheaval of 
 the land from the bed of the ocean. It points out 
 those parts of the Earth which first appeared above 
 the waters, and discovers in them unmistakable 
 evidences of a gigantic and luxuriant vegetation. 
 There are many remains of these primeval growths 
 and we have their " witnesses " in the coal forma- 
 tions. " The Geologic evidence is complete," says 
 one of the most vivid as well as accurate writers 
 among modern Geologists, "that the first great 
 
GENESIS ILL USTEATED B Y GEOLOG T. . 289 
 
 period of organized being was peculiarly a period 
 of herbs and ti-ees, yielding seed after their kind." 
 Of the works of the fourth day, the unfolding 
 to the Earth the great lights of heaven, and their 
 ordination to be for signs and for seasons, Geology 
 is mute. The lights are above her sphere, and 
 yet she may suggest something, not entirely inap- 
 propos. She shews us that there is reason to 
 believe that the first elevations of dry land were 
 partial and of comparatively small extent. There 
 was still a great predominance of the watery ele- 
 ment, and a high temperature. The Earth then 
 must have been enveloped in clouds and mists, so 
 that, though the light of the heavenly bodies may 
 have groped its way to the Earth, they were them- 
 selves invisible. The gradual elevation of the 
 submerged Earth, extending the bounds of the dry 
 land, and diminishing the extent of evaporating 
 surface, naturally produced a more transparent 
 atmosphere. The lights of heaven became visible, 
 not only dividing the day from night, but giving 
 the means of that nice measurement of time, 
 which early Astronomy learned to make, and 
 which modern science has carried to minute per- 
 fection. I know not that these suggestions reach 
 in any measure to the explanation of the works 
 of this third day, but they spring out of the cir- 
 cumstances of the Earth, immediately connected 
 with and following the era of the vast and abund- 
 ant vegetation, as made known by Geology. There 
 is a period interposed in the sacred narrative, be- 
 tween this era and that of the abundant formation 
 
290 SERMON XV. 
 
 of the fistt uik; iVnvl of the fifth creative day, and 
 so there seems to be strata containing few organic 
 remains between the coal formations and those 
 which abound in the remains of the monsters of 
 the deep. 
 
 But we pass to the fifth creative day, the crea- 
 tion of oviparous animals, those which inhabit the 
 deep and the denizens of the air. This period 
 synchronizes with that in the geological series 
 which is the age of the great sea-monsters and 
 gigantic birds. " It was peculiarly the age," says 
 the eminent geological writer just quoted, " of 
 egg-bearing animals winged and wingless." The. 
 waters, as commanded, brought forth abundantly 
 moving creatures that had life, and fowls to fly 
 above the earth in the open firmament of heaven. 
 
 The work of the last or sixth of the creative 
 days, was the production of land animals; and 
 the tertiary period of G-eology is marked by im- 
 mense remains of such animals, mammalians and 
 others, of the higher genera. Their remains are 
 abundant in countries where their living conge- 
 ners are not now found, and species are discovered 
 which have now nowhere living representatives. 
 
 Last of the works of the sixth day, and the 
 crowning work of creation, was man. And here 
 is where Geology finds him. There are no re- 
 mains of him any where among even the older 
 parts of the Tertiary strata. The remains of 
 mammalians abound, but no bone which can be 
 recognized as human, till we come to the very 
 latest deposits, those which have been formed un- 
 
GENESIS ILLUSTRATED BY GEOLOGY. 291 
 
 der the present order and condition of the Earth's 
 crust. He is last in the series in the order of 
 Geology as well as in that of the sacred narrative. 
 
 Upon this brief review of the Mosaic account, 
 it is obvious to remark, that though there is much 
 in the narrative of which Geology has nothing to 
 say, yet the great points which she has succeeded 
 in establishing as facts in the history of the Earth's 
 formation, are in striking coincidence with it. It 
 is a coincidence, not accidental, but of a kind 
 which proves that there is substantial truth in both 
 the records. The writer of the book of Genesis, 
 ages before the science of Geology had any being, 
 writing not a scientific work nor aftecting a scien- 
 tific style, giving a narrative of the Earth's forma- 
 tion by the power and the wisdom of God, as an 
 introduction to its moral history as God's world ; 
 yet gives such an account, that Science, when in 
 the progress of the ages she has her birth, and 
 comes to a proper maturity, cannot but recognize 
 that there was a vsdsdom before and higher than 
 hers ; that there was One who saw the events of 
 the remote ages, of which she traces out painfully 
 the record in the rocks. 
 
 The view which I have here presented involves 
 the supposition that the six days of Creation were 
 not natural days of twenty-four hours, measured 
 by the earth's diurnal revolution, but periods, 
 which had their regular beginnings and issues ; of 
 a length which we have no means of measuring, 
 stretching back into the ages before the creation 
 of man ; and so far, that the human period of the 
 
292 SERMON XV. 
 
 Earth's history may be, as yet, but a minute frac- 
 tion of its whole duration. 
 
 Such a supposition may do violence to our pre- 
 conceived notions, but none I apprehend to the 
 sacred text. The word " day " is not used in the 
 Holy scriptures with such limited meaning as to 
 signify merely that natural division of time, which 
 we express thereby. We find spoken of, " the day, 
 when Goi) made the heavens and the earth," — 
 "the days of prophecy," — "the latter day," — "the 
 day of Christ's reign," — " the day of judgment;" — 
 and in general, I believe it may be averred, in the 
 language of a very able and learned writer upon 
 this subject, that in the Hebrew use, " the word 
 day may be applied to any period of time present- 
 ing a completed course or unity of events irre- 
 spective of precise duration." 
 
 That we are not in this account to interpret the 
 word " day," in the common sense of an astrono- 
 mical period of twenty-four hours, would seem to 
 be intimated not obscurely, by the statement, that 
 it was not till the fourth of these creative "periods 
 that the great lights of heaven were ordained for 
 the discrimination of seasons, and to divide the 
 light from the darkness. Whether this was the 
 period of their creation, may be another question, 
 but the text seems plainly to point it out as that, 
 in which they could first be referred to for the 
 regulation of time. 
 
 And there is another thing to be noticed in the 
 narrative itself which seems to shew that these 
 creative days were long cyclical periods, each hav- 
 
GENESIS ILL USTIiA TED B Y OEOLOG T. 293 
 
 ing its distinct mission in the revolution of the 
 inysteries of the forming Earth. Each began with 
 the going forth of the informing "Word from G-od, 
 and each ended with the blessing upon the accom- 
 plished work; but the language expressing that 
 work is such as to intimate the infusion, as it 
 were, of a new power into nature by the divine 
 Word, and its outgrowth in natural processes. 
 As in the third day, God said "Let the earth bring 
 forth grass, and herb yielding seed, and the fruit 
 tree yielding fruit after his kind, whose seed is in 
 itself upon the earth, and it was so. The earth 
 brought forth grass, and herb yielding seed after 
 his kind, and the tree yielding fruit whose seed is 
 in itself, after his kind," and God saw that it was 
 good." This language describes a natural process; 
 the power given by the life-giving "Word, and then 
 going forth to the production of its proper result. 
 The periods for the commencement and issue of 
 such events are the periodic times, the days of 
 creation ; and thus understood, the narrative gives 
 us a phenomenal account of the process by which 
 the Earth was brought to its perfect condition and 
 prepared for the habitation of man, and shews us 
 God woi'king by natural laws and in natural order, 
 working as He now works ; and working, as I have 
 before remarked, in a manner best adapted to the 
 instruction of the intelligent being, for whose use 
 the earth was thus in preparation. 
 
 But there is an objection to this view which 
 seems at first sight a crushing one. The six cre- 
 ative days were the prototypes of the six days 
 
294 SERMON XV. 
 
 of labor allowed to man in every week; and the 
 seventh, on which God rested from His work, that of 
 the weekly sabbath appointed for the rest of man. 
 But it does not follow from this relation, that 
 GtOd's week of labor and of rest must consist of 
 such days as ours. His seventh day still continues. 
 He is still resting from the work of creation. His 
 •sabbath is a long period. It may be that in which 
 He carries on the works of Grace and Eedemption, 
 for He rests not from such work, and our day of 
 rest is a day for works of mercy and of spiritual 
 edification. It may, then, run through the whole 
 moral history of man, till " the time of restitution 
 of all things," — a period indefinite to us, as we 
 imagine were those of the creative days, but defi- 
 nite to Him, commenced in the darkness of hu- 
 man transgression, but with the promise of the 
 Law of righteousness, — its night and its morning 
 making a perfect day, to be terminated with the 
 divine blessing on its completed work. 
 
 I have thus gone as minutely into the illustra- 
 tion of the narrative in the first chapter of Gene- 
 sis, from Geology, as I have been able in the short 
 compass of a sermon, and as the state of our knowl- 
 edge on the subject perhaps allows. Geology is 
 still a recent science. A small part of the Earth's 
 surface only has been investigated, and though 
 there have been made vast accumulations of facts, 
 the problem of the Earth's Genesis, and physical 
 History is a large one, and Geology is as yet in a 
 condition to advance only partial theories; and 
 these not absolute verities, but as n:^ere sum- 
 
GENESIS ILL USTEA TED B Y OEOLOQ Y. 295 
 
 mings-up of her present knowledge, for the great- 
 er facility of communicating it, and as helps to 
 farther inquiries and investigations. 
 
 With the progress of G-eology and physical As- 
 tronomy has been developed physical Geography, 
 and a more general cosmical science, the progress of 
 which may lead us on to a fuller and better knowl- 
 edge of the Earth's history, and help us to know 
 more of the wisdom of God, as displayed in the 
 work and as set forth in the inspired history of 
 Creation. Let us wait and learn. The slow and 
 painful progress of Science hitherto, should teach 
 us not to be too confident in human sagacity; and 
 the fate of theories, achieved with vast labor, and 
 rejoiced over, and then discarded should warn us 
 not, on the faith of similar theories, to let go our 
 faith in that glorious "Word of God which has been 
 subjected to the criticism of eighteen centuries 
 without harm ; and out of new attacks upon which 
 nothing can come but new victories. 
 
 Nature and Revelation are both from God. 
 Either, studied legitimately, and with a reverent 
 spirit, cannot but lead us to Him, — the former 
 only to Him as the God of ]!fature, the latter as 
 the God of Grace. "Where they meet, it cannot but 
 be in harmony, though that harmony may be too 
 deep for us; and the analogies between them, 
 springing out of the profound unity of character, 
 of purpose, and of place, which reigns throughout 
 the works of the Creator, cannot but aid us, when 
 we can catch them, in the understanding of them 
 both, and make our knowledge in them deeper and 
 
296 SERMON XV. 
 
 richer. The science which knows not God, is out 
 the study of a dead Anatomy, or rather the study 
 of that which is living without recognizing its life. 
 The faith which trembles at the legitimate pursuit 
 of scientific enquiry is a weak faith. Revelation 
 has stood too many hard conflicts with the world, 
 the flesh, and the devil, to fear new enemies. As 
 I believe it to be profoundly and absolutely true, 
 so I believe that whatever seems to oppose it, will 
 be compelled finally to do it homage; and I believe 
 there is nothing in the works of 6oi>, which, right- 
 ly understood, will not bear witness to the wisdom 
 of His most holy Word. It is true He is in some 
 sense, " a God that hideth Himself," as well as one 
 " that revealeth Himself" He that loveth a lie, 
 shall never want plausible pretexts for holding it ; 
 while to him that loveth and seeketh the truth, 
 [ight shall spring up, even out of darkness. 
 
SERMON XVI. 
 
 THE EELIGIOUS TBAININQ OF CHILDREN. 
 Proverbs xxii. 6. " Train up a child in the 
 
 WAY HE SHOULD 60 : AND WHEN HE IS OLD, HE WILL 
 NOT DEPART FROSJ IT." 
 
 There is no subject more important than the 
 religious training of children. They are the hopes 
 of the World, and of the Church. In a few years 
 both will pass into their hands, and the best thing 
 we can do for either, is to prepare these coining 
 men and women for their coming responsibilities. 
 It is equally important, too, in reference to their 
 individual happiness and success, both in this 
 world and in that which is to come. As that long 
 minority, which God has ordained for man, is 
 wisely or unwisely, properly or improperly spent, 
 so will be his fitness for the duties of life, and so, 
 in all likelihood, will issue his moral and individ- 
 ual accountability. 
 
 I say his long minority. Other inhabitants of 
 this world come to their maturity in a compara- 
 tively short time. Man's time of pupilage takes 
 up nearly one third of the period allotted to him. 
 But long as it is, it is doubtless not too long. His 
 maturity is charged with high duties, and at the 
 end there awaits him a tremendous reckoning. 
 How he will discharge his duties and be rirepared 
 
298 8ERM0N XVI. 
 
 for his reckoning, turns mainly upon the training 
 of his yrouth ; for as he is prepared for his duties, 
 60 in ull likelihood will he discharge thera,, and 
 the way in which he is trained up is in all likeli- 
 hood the way in which he will go. 
 
 At all events this is the principle upon which 
 we are to act. The means of securing the future 
 happiness and prosperity of the young, — so far as 
 Goi> sees fit to put them in our power, and so far 
 as we may possess them consistently with that 
 individual accountability, which must ultimately 
 rest on each one, — lie just in that subjection to 
 our control and training, and guidance, which 
 arises from the feebleness in which life com- 
 mences, and the gradual expansion of the powers 
 and development of the reason, during that period 
 when submission to instruction and control is nat- 
 ural and easy. If we suffer this period to pass, 
 without exerting faithfully the power which God 
 has given us, let us not hope that we can repair 
 the evil we have done to our own consciences, or 
 to the happiness and final salvation of those whom 
 God has committed to us. 
 
 The text brings to view the great duty and 
 hope of parents and guardians, in regard to those 
 whom God has placed under their care. Let us 
 consider it, — " Train up a child in the way he 
 should go." What is the precise duty here com- 
 manded ? 
 
 It includes, doubtless, in general, right religious 
 instruction, the inculcation of just principles of 
 action, and the forniation of right habits. It is of 
 
THE RELIOIOUS TRAININO OF OHILDREN. 299 
 
 course understood, in limine, that the first thing to 
 he sought for in order to a religious life is a renew- 
 ing of the Holy Ghost. The ground of our hope 
 in working out our own Salvation, is the truth 
 that " God works in us." The same is the ground 
 on which we press the religious training of chil- 
 dren. They are admitted to the same Covenant 
 of mercy in which you rejoice, and under which 
 you claim God's promises ; and " of such," as well 
 as of older persons "is the kingdom of Heaven." 
 
 The proper beginning of Christian education of 
 children, then, is at Baptism. They are then 
 brought into covenant with God, and then you 
 acquire a title to expect God's grace to accompany 
 and to crown your labors. They are then conse- 
 crated to God, and He accepts the oft'ering, for He 
 commands it. They are baptized by the one 
 Spirit into the one body of Christ, — ^the household 
 of faith, in which they are expected to grow 
 up into living members; and to this end both 
 the grace of God and parental faithfulness a:e 
 necessary ; and, if you are faithful on your part, 
 you have no cause to fear that God will not be 
 on His. 
 
 He supplies the needful grace, but He makes it 
 our duty to train our offspring in the way they 
 should go. 
 
 I. In discussing this subject, let us first con- 
 sider that part of the training spoken of in the 
 text, which consists in Religious instruction : How 
 shall it be given ? 
 
300 SERMON XVI. 
 
 It may be given informally, as times and cir- 
 cumstances in daily and hourly intercourse shall 
 minister occasion. It was commanded the Jewish 
 parent to teach God's words diligently to his chil- 
 dren, when he sat in his house and when he- 
 walked by the way, and when he lay down, and 
 when he rose up. And our blessed Saviour has 
 set us the example of turning the common occur- 
 rences of life into divine instruction. 
 
 The method of formal stated instruction most 
 approved by experience, is by Catechism, i. e. by 
 question and answer ; the questions being care- 
 fully prepared to direct the mind of the child to 
 the most important points, and the answers con- 
 taining these points distinctly and explicitly stated; 
 so that being thoroughly learned, they shall stand 
 in his mind as the main truths and principles of 
 religion, assisting him in the gradual comprehen- 
 sion of its scheme, and guarding him against error 
 and misconceptions. 
 
 The Catechism is of course to be repeated till it 
 is thoroughly fixed in the memory. It is to be re- 
 peated with rigid accuracj' till every word is famil- 
 iar. The object of catechising is not to give the 
 child a dim glimmering of religious truth, but to 
 fix in his memory, and thence in his understand- 
 ing, the principles of religion. It is not the first 
 object to lead him to comprehend ; that will come 
 afterwards, and come more perfectly if first the 
 language of the Catechism in all its precision be 
 exactly learned. " Words are the way to things." 
 Words accurately learned will lead to the accurate 
 
TSE BELIOIOUS TRAINING OF CHILDREN. 301 
 
 understanding of things. The memory is devel- 
 oped before the understanding, and the develop- 
 ment of the memory furthers that of the under- 
 standing. Explanations of the Catechism are im- 
 portant, but are not to be substituted for learning 
 it ; and they come with vastly less profit before than 
 after the words are fixed in the memory. Expla- 
 nation of that which is not required to be learned, 
 leads to loose conceptions of things, and pro- 
 motes talk rather than knowledge. 
 
 This, I must take the liberty to say, seems to 
 me to be just the result of much of the religious 
 training of children at the present day. It is given 
 in loose interpretations of the Scriptures, or in 
 stories which are contrived to be interesting; 
 which children read for amusement, and from 
 which they get some vague conception of religious 
 truth, but nothing distinct except what they work 
 out in their own way. We may employ narrative 
 in instruction. We have the highest warrant for it. 
 But it should not run into a long and rambling 
 story, filled in its course with sickly sentimentali- 
 ties and incidents, which do not bear upon the 
 point to be illustrated and enforced; and the in- 
 terest in the story should not cover up and extin- 
 guish the interest in the"thing to be taught. By such 
 narratives an unhealthy fondness for mere story, 
 and a distaste for dry unimaginative truth, are 
 begotten; and many a child taught in this way, 
 grows up to manhood with dreamy notions of 
 truth and goodness ; but not guarded against 
 error if it comes to him in apt illustrations, nor 
 
302 BEBMON XVI. 
 
 against impositions of his own evil heart, ever 
 ingenious, and ever deceitful. 
 
 There is at this day a facility in modifying and 
 changing religious belief, and an indifference 
 about precision of the faith; which, though it 
 may flatter itself with the praise of liberality, and 
 be thought to indicate a generous superiority to 
 trifles, yet, in the eyes of the sagacious, is unfavor- 
 able to the security of Christian doctrine, and the 
 hopes of coming age. Creeds, which seem to the 
 unpracticed ej^e to be alike, are set down as iden- 
 tical, and the descendants of those who excommu- 
 nicated each other as heretics, shake hands as 
 brethren of the same faith. Let me not be sup- 
 posed to desire the return of polemical bitterness. 
 This old error is in a great measure the parent of 
 the present. The polemical spirit multiplies points 
 of disagreement, and contends as earnestly for 
 party as for truth. And when the fatigue of bat- 
 tle brings about a cessation of hostilities, men see 
 the folly of too many of their nice distinctions, 
 and theological indifference naturally follows. 
 "We must and we may adhere strictly to the Faith 
 once delivered to the Saints, without any breach 
 of charity towards others ; leaving them, as well 
 as expecting ourselves, to be judged by our com- 
 mon Master. 
 
 God has not left us without the means of teach- 
 ing our children the elements of the Faith. We 
 have the form of sound words in the Creeds, 
 the surest rule of duty in the ten Commandments, 
 and a form and model of devotion in the Lord's 
 
TSE RELIGIOUS TRAINlNa OF aHILDREN. 303 
 
 prayer. These are all embodied in the Catechism, 
 and faithful men have added their interpreta- 
 tions of them, and the simple elements of the doc- 
 trine of the Sacraments ; thus making a brief but 
 complete summary of that teaching which should 
 be securely fixed in the minds of children. Let 
 us not fear to teach these elements of Christian 
 truth to children, thinking that in their minds 
 they can be only words. They will be living 
 words. They will be the moulds in which the 
 plastic and forming thought of those young minds 
 will be cast. They will lead them on, in their 
 efforts to learn and to know, to that knowledge 
 which is right and true ; and, saving them from 
 the confusion of early error and misapprehension, 
 make their progress to truth and knowledge com- 
 paratively easy and rapid. 
 
 The Catechism is both doctrinal and practical. 
 It sets forth in simple terms the fundamental prin- 
 ciples of our faith ; those great principles, which 
 the wisest know best when they receive them in 
 all their simplicity, avoiding all subtleties and 
 mere matters of opinion ; and at the same time it 
 exhibits in accurate yet not dry detail the great du- 
 ties which flow from these principles, and those 
 which spring out of our relations to God, and to 
 our fellow men. Happy he, whose mind is early 
 imbued with those divine principles of faith and 
 practice ; who is not left without direction to 
 work his own way through the mazes of doctrine 
 and the devices of those who lie in wait to deceive 
 the unwary ; or to frame his own system of duty, 
 
30-4 SERMON XVI. 
 
 under the influence of a deceitful heart, the tempt- 
 ations of tlie world, and the guidance of the 
 prevailing fashion in morals. 
 
 There is a movement in the common opinions 
 of men, in Religion and Morals, as well as Politics, 
 which may be compared to currents in the Ocean, 
 and may drift us far out of our course and expose 
 us to imminent hazards, if we have not some fixed 
 object by which we may ascertain our true place. 
 And what can this be, but something which those 
 currents cannot touch ; something beyond fashion ; 
 something beyond progress, and towards which 
 progress should lead us; some authoritative stand- 
 ard of Faith and Practice, which it is not our 
 business to improve upon, but to attain. Look 
 through the Catechism, and you will find not only 
 Doctrines, which the modes of thinking and rea- 
 soning now in vogue do not compass, but Duties 
 enjoined — as the Duties of submission, obedience, 
 and reverence, where they are due — which the 
 popular feeling holds in little respect. "We some- 
 times flatter ourselves that we are wiser than our 
 fathers, because our fashions of thinking are dif- 
 ferent from theirs. But fashions in opinion are 
 evidences of human weakness. They arise from 
 the fact that we compass truth only in parts, and 
 hence, in our theories, always mutilate it. Let us 
 be thankful, if any where we can find it entire, 
 and in such simplicity, that we can avail ourselves 
 of it to forestall the errors of our partial under- 
 standings; and if any where the youthful mind 
 can learn the lesson of its Faith and Duty, before 
 
THE RELIGIOUS TRAINING OF CHILDREN. 305 
 
 the understanding has been perverted by false 
 theories, or the conscience seared by commerce 
 with the world. 
 
 II. But I must pass on to another point of duty 
 enjoined in the text, and one which seems to me 
 more directly indicated than that of which I have 
 spoken, namely, the formation of right and religious 
 habits. Training is in general, educating ; but more 
 specifically it is forming to a practice or character by 
 exercise. " To train up a child in the way he 
 should go," then, is to exercise him from the earli- 
 est practicable period in the discharge of moral 
 and religious duties, to accustom him from the 
 earliest period to recognize his religious obliga- 
 tions. 
 
 It is in vain that we fill the heads of children 
 with right notions, if we pay no attention to their 
 habits. It is useless to talk to a child about obedi- 
 ence, if he be allowed to form the habit of disobedi- 
 ence ; to talk about the reverence due to God, if 
 he be allowed habitually to treat His service, and 
 perhaps His holy name, with irreverence. 
 
 Character is formed very much by habits, and 
 habits are formed by repeated acts. If you wish 
 to form a child to truth, train him to speak truth 
 under all circumstances, an-d not only to speak it, 
 but to act it. If to obedience, train him to obey. 
 Let your commands be reasonable, and then 
 calmly but firmly insist upon obedience. Through 
 the unvarying and repeated acts the habit is soon 
 formed, and ripens into a settled character. The 
 
306 8EBM0N XVI. 
 
 paren.t must not make the mistake of expecting to 
 find the child what he desires to iTiake him. If 
 he needs training, he is not what he is to be. He 
 is at first without habits of any kind, and it is the 
 parent's great business to see that those which he 
 forms are such as they should be. The business 
 of training cannot be begun too early, though it 
 must, of course, begin with discretion, with gen- 
 tleness, and unvarying kindness. We would not 
 apply to the bending of a twig, the violence, 
 which must be necessary for the strong limb of a 
 well grown oak. There is the germ of an active 
 conscience in the youngest child ; there is a warm 
 full spring of love in his heart; and the judicious 
 parent will seek to call them into action, and 
 through them to regulate his acts and to form his 
 habits. He will carefully avoid rendering this 
 spring of love turbid by passion, and arousing the 
 rebellious will to overbear the yet feeble voice of 
 conscience, and break down its authority. He 
 will endeavor that the acts of the child shall be 
 what they seem ; and if they are done in the ex- 
 ercise of love, and obedience to the sense of duty, 
 they will be. Obedience will be obedience ; truth 
 will be truth; and conscience and the spirit of 
 charity, the highest and purest sources of human 
 action, will be exercised and invigorated, and the 
 way prepared for them to become the principles 
 of action through life. For another reason, also, 
 the parent should be careful of the manner in 
 which he conducts the discipline of his children. 
 They learn rtu^iAXy hy example ; and whatever of 
 
TEE RELIGIOUS TRAINING OF CHILDREN. 307 
 
 ill temper, or passion, or violence of speech, lie 
 may exhibit, he may expect to see faithfully copied. 
 The infection of our nature favors the growth of 
 evil habits ; they need no culture. 
 
 But reliffious as well as moral character is to be 
 formed ; how shall it be done ? In a great meas- 
 ure, as before, by acts. We suppose instruction 
 to be given in such measure as it may, and the 
 character and the life to be formed in accordance 
 thereto. But what are the acts of religion which 
 a child can perform ? The same in general with 
 those which are performed by an adult. 
 
 Religion presents itself to us not only as a pro- 
 found reverence and love and fear of God, and 
 regard to His laws, because they are His; but as 
 worship, or the external manifestation of this in- 
 ward piety. It is readily granted that external 
 religion is nothing, if the internal be wanting; 
 nevertheless it is really a part of religion, and an 
 important part. "Worship is the expression of 
 inward piety, and inward piety is nourished and 
 sustained by worship. Way, worship is almost 
 the breath of its life, without which it disappears 
 and dies. 
 
 Now children can be led to acts of worship. 
 'No Christian parent fails to teach his child the 
 Lord's prayer, and to require the daily repetition 
 of it. The child kneels with his parents at the 
 domestic altar, and joins in the worship of the 
 household. At the proper age it may go to church, 
 and there it should be taught to bend the knee 
 and unite in the worship of God's house. All 
 
308 SERMON XVI. 
 
 this may be thought to savor of formalism ; but 
 how will you give to the child the first notion of 
 the homage which is due to the invisible God, of 
 Whom you have told him, so directly, as by exhib- 
 iting it in acts of worship and calling on him to 
 kneel and pray. God the Invisible, becomes a 
 fact, when he sees Him treated as a fact. The de- 
 vout prostration reveals to the infant imagination 
 something of His greatness, and the earnest call- 
 ing upon Him for our daily wants is a practical 
 teaching of our constant dependence upon Him. 
 
 The child is quick to see thisj .sees it quicker 
 than he can be taught it in words ; and though he 
 may not know how to utter it, a great thought has 
 sprung up in his mind. We can scarcely speak of 
 God without using abstractions, but the reverential 
 look, and the serious earnestness of the voice, 
 express a meaning which is deeply felt. 
 
 Infant piety finds much of its nourishment in 
 household worship, and we should study to make 
 that worship conduce to this important end, and 
 not suffer it to degenerate into the mere perfunc- 
 tory reading of a chapter, and repetition of a 
 prayer. The parlor should be, for the time, a 
 church; the devotions should be entered upon 
 with reverence, as in the presence of God; and 
 all should be and appear to be a felt reality. 
 
 The worship at home prepares for the worship 
 of the church, and the young mind already trained 
 in some measure to look upon worship as meaning 
 something, and to engage in it with reverence, 
 will find further nourishment and instruction in 
 
THE RELIGIOUS TRAINING OF CHILDREN. 309 
 
 the services of the house of God, and will feel 
 them to be neither tiresome nor unmeaning. The 
 truth of God's being and Providence and Grace, 
 which he had been taught to know and feel at 
 home, receives the testimony of the multitude of 
 voices around him, his conceptions are enlarged 
 and his thoughts become deeper. 
 
 The arrangement of our public services is ad- 
 mirably adapted, my brethren, to the religious 
 training of the young. Its variety prevents wea- 
 riness, and it forms, as it is called " a common 
 prayer," not a service which the worshipper lis- 
 tens to merely, but takes part in. The responsive 
 part of the service is really one of the highest im- 
 portance in the religious training of the young, 
 and not only of the young, but of the old ; for 
 who is so old as not to feel himself in the knowl- 
 edge of God, a child; who does not know that if 
 he would learn successfully in the school of Christ, 
 he must come in the spirit of a child ; and that he 
 as well as the child must be exercised into Godli- 
 ness, and exercised by much the same means. It 
 is really a thing of great moment, that children 
 and men should be accustomed, in the way of 
 public worship, publicly to confess their faith, and 
 to utter their petitions. Piety should not be osten- 
 tatious, neither should it be cowardly. How many 
 persons have been deterred from their religious 
 duties by mere timidity, how many have blushed 
 because they have been caught upon their knees ? 
 Would they have been such shame-faced Christ- 
 ians, if they had been accustomed from childhood to 
 
310 SERMON XVI. 
 
 fall down and worship before the Lord their Maker, 
 and to join their voices in the prayers and praises 
 of His Church? IS'othing would tend more to 
 make the worship of the household impressive and 
 fruitful of the best results, than to make it respon- 
 sive, — to train its members not only to be hearers 
 but worshippers. It would tend, as in the church, 
 to the gradual development and strengthening of 
 the religious character, and be-literally a training 
 of the young in the way in which they should go. 
 
 It is the duty of the devout Christian, as it was 
 of old of the devout Jew, to teach his children 
 diligently the words and the truth of God, — to 
 talk of them when he is sitting in his house and 
 when he is walking by the way, — but it is no less 
 his duty also, than it was of the other, to train 
 them to God's service, to accustom them to domes- 
 tic worship, to take them to the house of God, to 
 occupy them with the duties of religion, and to 
 make them understand the memorials of God's 
 grace. A pie y trained by discourse without 
 practice, may not improbably become a religion of 
 profession merely, one of theory rather than of 
 holy living. I^ay, pious teaching without pious 
 example and pious training, may possibly beget 
 unbelief; for the profession of an earnest faith by 
 one whose life is not regulated by it, cannot but 
 seem as mockery; and teaching the faith without 
 training to the practice of religion, cannot but 
 seem, even to the child, to be doing but half a 
 duty if that faith be true. 
 
 In my remarks thus far, I have had in view 
 
THE RELIGIOUS TRAINING OF CHILDREN. 311 
 
 chiefly the religious, training of children; — but the 
 principles which I have set forth apply equally to 
 the period of youth, and indeed to every age ; for 
 the means of forming religious character under 
 the blessing of God are religious teaching ; and the 
 formation of religious habits by the practice of 
 devotion ; the training of the intellect, the training 
 of the conscience, and the training of the habits. 
 
 The age which follows childhood, the period of 
 youth is one, which every religious, nay, every ju- 
 dicious parent, regards with anxiety. It is an age, 
 when the young person begins to be jealous of the 
 influence of others and to assert his independence. 
 The passions are strong; the judgment, though 
 much confided in, is immature ; and the pride of 
 opening manhood gives stubbornness to the will. 
 It is a time of peculiar danger, and he must still be 
 under guidance, though modified to suit his age. 
 
 If he remains at home, the pious habits of child- 
 hood may be retained through the period of youth 
 and daily gain strength, till they become the fixed 
 habits of manhood. But seldom can the entire 
 education of a young person be had at home ; and 
 if it could, there would remain the trial of an en- 
 trance upon the world, without the experience of 
 temptation such as must at once be encountered. 
 
 A part, and a considerable part, of his education, 
 must ordinarily be had at school, where he will 
 find himself surrounded by new associations ; 
 where habits of piety may be rudely assailed ; 
 where serious thoughts and purposes may find 
 many discouragements; where faith may be shak- 
 
312 SERMON XVI. 
 
 en by contradictory opinions ;' and reverence for 
 every thing which is venerable in religions faith 
 and practice, undermined by a predominant spirit 
 of irreverent speculation and profaneness ; and the 
 conscience may lose its sensibility by familiarity 
 with sin. 
 
 Is it not of great moment, then, to give a relig- 
 ious character to .schools ! to secure in them, if pos- 
 sible, the means of carrying on the religious train- 
 ing commenced at home, until youth ends in man- 
 hood, and the young may be safely surrendered to 
 their own keeping, with habits of piety formed 
 not merely in the shade of domestic retirement but 
 in the publicity of these worlds in miniature. 
 
 One would suppose that the members of the 
 Church, would be of all most forward in this im- 
 portant matter. Her theory of the forming of 
 religious character does not lead to the expectation 
 of the best results from spasmodic efforts, from the 
 influence of occasional excitements; but from the 
 continued use of appointed means, accompanied by 
 the promised blessing on their faithful employ- 
 ment. And yet where are her Schools and Col- 
 leges, to which her devout members may send 
 their sons, secure that the teaching and the relig- 
 ious exercises, would tend to stablish strengthen 
 and settle them, in the way they had- hitherto 
 taught them to walk, — ^to train them up in the 
 nurture and admonition of the Lord ?* 
 
 * If we look through the land, and count np the schools of dif- 
 ferent grades, which have been established by different denomina- 
 tions, for the education of their children under such religious inflii- 
 
THE RELIGIOUS TBAININQ OF CHILDREN. 313 
 
 Our views of the Gospel system, lead us to com- 
 bine in the training of the young, religious teach- 
 ings and religious practice ; not to rely, on the one 
 hand, upon stimulating the intellect to religious 
 enquiry, while we neglect to form religious habits, 
 nor, on the other, to form habits of ignorant and 
 unenlightened devotion. 
 
 encee as they approved, we shall find that no body of Christiana 
 in the Country, at all prominent for their intelligence or their 
 numbers, has done so little as a body, as we. I do not believe 
 that Churchmen are deficient in benevolence or public spirit, or 
 that they undervalue education. But where are the fruits? Have 
 their charities gone to other schools than their own ? I know and 
 I rejoice that a better spirit is beginning to show itself among us ; 
 that there are here and there Church schools, for the education of 
 our daughters especially. But even these are generally private 
 enterprizes, and some succeed, and some fail. But let me remind 
 you of the startling fact, that (A. D. 1847), out of more than 100 
 colleges in the United States, there are but 8 under the control of 
 the Church. That more than 60 are managed by the different Pres- 
 byterian bodies. That poor as the Roman Catholics are in general, 
 they have 15. That the Methodists have 13 ; and the Baptists 10. 
 It may be imagined that our number of Colleges is in proportion 
 to the number of our students, but if I calculate correctly, not 
 more than one fourth of our own young men at College are in the 
 Colleges of the Church. Church Colleges are not only few, but 
 they are regarded with comparative indifference by Churchmen, 
 and, therefore, they are small. The patronage which might build 
 them up is scattered. There seems to be wanting among Church- 
 men the zeal which leads so many of the Denominations around 
 us, to build up Colleges and sustain them. I know not why it is, 
 unless others are more politic than we ; or having a firmer faith in 
 their distinctive principles or a heartier love for them, they seek 
 to embody them in Colleges, and to propagate them through Insti- 
 tutions of learning. But as I have already said, one would sup- 
 pose that, following out our own principles, we should be among 
 the most zealons in establishing and supporting places of education. 
 
314 SERMON XVI. 
 
 • 
 
 The period of youth, the period when the quick- 
 ening intellect demands to know, and begins to 
 exercise its powers with the reason of things, is 
 just the time when teaching becomes most fruitful 
 and most important. It is just the time when re- 
 ligious habits are needed in uninterrupted force, 
 and the impressiveness of daily devotion, to check 
 the waywardness of passion and to moderate the 
 force of temptation. It is the age, too, which 
 needs to be specially reminded of the vows of 
 Baptism, and the terrors of the future reckoning; 
 the period, too, which needs most the clear and 
 definite teachings of the Church, her steady testi- 
 mony to keep under the spirit of unbelief, her 
 steady guidance through the testiness of passion 
 rebelling against the reason, and of reason against 
 authority, till maturer thought and larger experi- 
 ence may shew the harmony of G-od's laws with 
 the highest reason, and the highest happiness of 
 His creatures. 
 
 Will the Institutions which are established and 
 endowed by others meet all our wants? Will they 
 serve, in the estimation of Churchmen, the ends at 
 which I have just hinted ? I speak in no disrespect 
 of any serious efforts to accomplish a good end ; 
 but it is a simple fact, which may be stated with- 
 out exciting any suspicion of an unfriendly spirit, 
 that different religious theories of Education will 
 result in different arrangements for carrying it for- 
 ward. We believe in a Church, whose mission is 
 to reform the world, not to be reformed by it ; in 
 Creeds which are the same yesterday and to-day ; 
 
THE RELIGIOUS TRAINING OF CHILDREN. 315 
 
 in the use of a Liturgy for the solemn utterance 
 of our homage to Almighty GrOD. If we need the 
 Church's care do not our children during the 
 most trying period of their lives ? If we need to 
 hold fast by her Creeds for the security of our own 
 faith, — if we need to be daily trained and quick- 
 ened by her solemn forms, do not they? After 
 they have been baptized in the Church, and trained 
 in the Church through childhood, shall they be 
 sent out of it for education ? Send them out of it 
 for education, and they will meet with different 
 methods of religious impression; with extempo- 
 raneous devotions, with conference and prayer 
 meetings, with revivals prayed for and waited for 
 as the proper harvests of souls; and in general 
 with a system of religious excitement instead of a 
 system of religious training. I am not censuring 
 others for adopting such a system. I do not agree 
 with them in judgment, but I praise them for do- 
 ing earnestly what they believe to be right. I 
 would that we had their zeal. 
 
 A Churchman sends his son to a College of some 
 of the Denominatiotis around us ; and when he is 
 there, he avoids through distaste, or perhaps by 
 parental admonition, the means of religious im- 
 pression there in use; and what is the result? 
 Religious indifference. He has none of the means 
 of religious influence to which he is accustomed, 
 and which he has been taught to regard with 
 reverence ; and he easily becomes forgetful of 
 religion. He sustains an injury in his own soul, 
 and he brings reproach upon the Church, of 
 
316 SERMON XVI. 
 
 which he is a baptized member. Perhaps he goes 
 farther. Perhaps, in the conflict of contradictory 
 religious teaching and religious practice, he may 
 fall into the notion of the uncertainty of the whole 
 matter, and become shielded in scepticism. I 
 might make other suppositions, but I forbear. 
 
 Let the Church be as earnest as others, in estab- 
 lishing and sustaining her Institutions of learning; 
 let her be as earnest in using her proper and estab- 
 lished means for the religious training of pupils, 
 as they are in theirs ; and she will soon see results 
 of which she has hardly dreamed. I speak, my 
 Brethren, from long and intimate acquaintance 
 with various Colleges ; and I utter my deep con- 
 viction, when I say that the regular daily use of 
 her services, with regular instruction in the great 
 doctrines and duties of religion, united with watch- 
 fulness and care, and warmed with earnest and 
 religious spirit, will accomplish for the discipline 
 of Colleges, and the moral security and religious 
 improvement of the pupils, what nothing else can 
 accomplish. 
 
 And let me remind you. Brethren, that you have 
 an interest in this matter, not only as parents, but 
 as members of the Church, and of the Common- 
 wealth. Colleges and higher institutions of learn- 
 ing have not only a controlling influence over the 
 characters of the pupils, but over the whole com- 
 munity. They educate those who educate the 
 people, and their influence spreads in widening 
 circles till the last wave reaches the bounds of 
 human habitation. The time is not distant, when 
 
THE RELIGIOUS TBAININO OF CHILDREN. 317 
 
 if other means fail, experience, the most expensive 
 as well as most effectual teacher, will convince us 
 that we need to provide for the religious education 
 of our children at school, as well as at home ; and 
 particularly at that period when the lessons of 
 home may be secured or lost forever, and charac- 
 ters are formed for life, and there remains no place 
 for us to correct our errors. In the Church of 
 England, from which ours is derived, pious endow- 
 ments for the' education of the young, have for 
 centuries secured the means of religious education, 
 and the wholesome alliance of Religion and Learn- 
 ing. They have been the source of a regular sup- 
 ply of Clergy for its altars, and provided for the 
 education of the Laity under its shadow. But 
 with these even she is not satisfied ; hut is multi- 
 plying her Colleges and Schools, and investing 
 them more and more with a religious character. 
 
 If ever a Country or a Church on earth needed 
 all that can be done for it, in the proper education 
 of its youth, it is ours. ISo other Country throws 
 so much responsibiUty upon the intelligence and 
 religious principle of its people; and no other 
 Church holding to a transmitted power, and the 
 authority of ancient Creeds, was ever so much 
 exposed to the conflict of unsettled opinions and 
 the adverse influence of popular theories. 
 
SERMOK XVII. 
 
 THE DIGNITY AND VALUE OF TRUTH. 
 John xviii. 38. " Pilate saith unto Him, What 
 
 IS TRUTH ?" 
 
 Our Saviour, in tlie course of His examination 
 before Pontius Pilate, and in reply to Pilate's 
 question, if He were the king of the Jews, had 
 said that His kingdom was not of this world ; and 
 in following up another question to the same pur- 
 pose, added, "to this end was I born, and for this 
 cause came I into the world, that I should bear 
 witness unto the truth. Eveiy one that is of the 
 truth heareth my voice." 
 
 Upon these remarks concerning truth, which 
 Pilate seems to have understood as little as he did 
 the nature of Christ's kingship, he asked the ques- 
 tion in the text, " What is truth V The writer of 
 the Gospel adds, " and when he had said this, he 
 went out again unto the Jews, and saith, I find in 
 Him no fault. But ye have a custom that I 
 should release unto you one at the Passover ; will 
 ye therefore that I release unto you the king of 
 the Jews ?" 
 
 Pilato did not wait for an answer to his ques- 
 tion, and it is evident that it was made out of no 
 regard to the truth, and that he cared as little for 
 
THE DIGNITY AND VALUE OF TRUTH. 319 
 
 the truth which Christ came to witness, as for the 
 Kingdom which He came to set up. He went out 
 without receiving an answer to his question ; and 
 not only so, but after admiting that there was no 
 fault in Christ so far as he could ascertain, instead 
 of dismissing the charge against Him as ground- 
 less, and releasing the prisoner by an independent 
 and truth-regarding decision, he proposed to the 
 Jews to demand His release as an act of favor; 
 although he knew that the favor they wanted was 
 His condemnation. 
 
 A regard for truth, as truth, was not however 
 to have been expected of a luxurious Roman Grov- 
 ernor, and a man whose whole authority was foun- 
 ded in the right of the strongest. And a regard 
 for truth in the matter of Religion was not to have 
 been expected from a Pagan politician. 
 
 Religion was not sustained by the rulers of 
 Pagan Rome, at the period of our Saviour's mis- 
 sion, upon the ground of its truth. To them it 
 was a matter of indifterence. It answered all its 
 end in their estimation, when it kept in subjection 
 the minds of the common people, and furnished 
 occasion, in the magnificent spectacles and sacred 
 festivals, of gratifying the rabble and securing 
 popularity and influence for themselves. They 
 were more ready to admit new Gods into their 
 Calendar, than to scrutinize the claims of those 
 already worshiped ; and that Deity was most in re- 
 pute, not whose claims to divine honors were most 
 valid, but whose worship could be turned to most 
 political account. 
 
320 SERMON XVII. 
 
 I do not however on such grounds undertake to 
 justify Pilate's disregard for truth. He knew un- 
 ' doubtedly the value of truth in human affairs; and 
 to a properly ordered mind, truth in divine things 
 could not appear less important. The force of nat- 
 ural conscience accusing man of sin, is sufficient 
 to turn his attention to the evidence of an invisi-» 
 ble Judge, and to take away all excuse for falling 
 without examination into popular infidelity. 
 
 It is not my purpose to discuss metaphysically 
 the nature of truth. Suffice it to say, that it is 
 that which is conformed to the reality of things. 
 In opinions, it is that opinion which is conformed 
 to the reality of things. In practice, it is the prac- 
 tice which is thus conformed. In religion, truth is 
 that which teaches us to regard Him as God who 
 is God ; to believe concerning Him that which is, 
 instead of our own or other men's fancies ; to be- 
 lieve concerning His revelations to men, that 
 which He has in fact revealed ; and concerning His 
 dealings with men, that which in fact He does and 
 will do. 
 
 If there is a God, and any reality in Religion which 
 teaches us to know and worship Him, is not truth, 
 absolute, unmixed, honest truth, in relation to this 
 subject, of infinite and paramount importance ? Is 
 not disregard for it a departure from the proper 
 dignity of rational beings ; and contempt of it, is 
 it not folly triumphing over the reason ? Truth — 
 not truth of taste, or of sight, or of hearing, — but 
 moral and intellectual truth, is the object of that 
 reason bj' which we are distinguished from the 
 
THE DIGNITY AND VALVE OF TRUTW. 321 
 
 brute creation ; and tlie truth concemiing God, and 
 His nature, and our relations to Him, is moral 
 and intellectual truth of the most transcendent 
 dignity and importance. 
 
 If we do not value the speculative, but the prac- 
 tical, the case is not altered; the truth concerning 
 God and His nature and our relation to Him, 
 loses none of its importance. What knowledge is 
 practical, if not the knowledge of God? Who is 
 nearer to us? Upon whom do we more constant- 
 ly depend ? And with whom are we in closer re- 
 lations ? " In Him we live and move and have our 
 being;" "from Him we receive every good and 
 perfect gift;" and well say the Holy Scriptures tha:; 
 " the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wis- 
 dom;" not of Science merely but of wisdom. But 
 again, it is a belief of the truth which must lead us to 
 a just practice. It is not in precept to influence 
 rational beings, unless accompanied with the pow- 
 er and perception of some truth which is the 
 ground of it. Who would " fear God" from the 
 force of that precept, if he did not believe in God ? 
 Who would or could love Him, if he did not be- 
 lieve Him to be in truth such a Being as might 
 claim love ? Or who would think that a precept 
 imposed upon him any necessity of obeying God, 
 if he did not believe in Him as a Law-giver and a 
 Moral Governor ? In every case it is not precept 
 alone, but a perception and belief of truth, which 
 leads to practice. Precept is of no obligation, un- 
 less founded in truth, and can be of no avail unless 
 its foundation in the truth be acknowledged. 
 
322 SERMON XVII. 
 
 "We, my Brethren, are left altogether without 
 the plea that Pilate might urge in palliation of his 
 disregard of truth. "We cannot say, that Religion 
 has exhibited to our minds nothing which could 
 be apprehended as founded in the reality of 
 things. We cannot say that the practices which 
 Religion inculcates, are such as we find to be at 
 war with the dictates of natural conscience. It 
 must have been extremely perplexing to the mind 
 of an honest inquirer after truth in pagan Rome, 
 to see arrayed against the perceptions of an unso- 
 phisticated mind and the teachings of the visible 
 universe, all the power of the State, and the wis- 
 dom of Philosophy, and the authority of Age; 
 and I cannot suppose that any human being ever 
 rose under all this weight, by his own efforts 
 alone, to a clear perception and acknowledgement 
 of the truth of his spiritual nature and his relation 
 to God, even of so much as is possible to be dis- 
 covered by human reason. And from the diffi- 
 culty of such a thing it is, that the Scriptures 
 declare that such as sin under such circumstances, 
 — not those who grossly violate their natural con- 
 sciences, and do things which under any Paganism 
 they cannot but regard as meriting the vengeance 
 of GrOD, — ^but that ordinary sinners, under such 
 circumstances, will be beaten with comparatively 
 few stripes. 
 
 Christianity teaches us nothing concerning God 
 which we do not find to be perfectly agreeable to 
 what we feel wit'.iin us, and can see around us; 
 nothing but what is necessary, as a key, to unlock 
 
THE DIGNITY AND VALUE OF TRUTH. 323 
 
 the mysteries of our nature and of the material 
 universe, and of the undeniable course of Provi- 
 dence. It finds, therefore, a witness within our- 
 selves, and in the results of our experience, — and 
 it invites us to search after truth. And yet there 
 are nominal Christians who seem to set almost as 
 little value upon the truth as Pilate. Some take 
 up opinions without examination, or certainly 
 without that serious examination which the infi- 
 nite importance of the subject demands, induced 
 by some of the accidents of birth, or education, or 
 deference to names of influence. And some refuse 
 altogether to examine, to prove, and to hold fast 
 only to that which is good, regarding it of little 
 consequence what a person believes. In regard to 
 a mere matter of speculative opinion, it is, indeed, 
 of little consequence what a man believes, but I 
 have already shown that practice depends upon 
 belief; and it may be added that there is not a 
 single truth of Revelation, which is not more or 
 less influential in a practical point of view. We 
 have, then, every reason to desire and pray and 
 labor that we may be led into all truth. "We have 
 reason to dread the influence of any error. 
 
 But let us consider more in detail, why we 
 should be desirous to know the whole and the 
 unmixed truth. 
 
 I. It is only the truth which is worth believing. 
 Of what use is it to be imposed upon, or to im- 
 pose upon ourselves, with fiction of any kind ? Is 
 there any honor in it ? — any satisfaction ? Un- 
 
324 SERMON XVII. 
 
 doubtedly there is, sometimes, satisfaction in a 
 false belief, as in the persuasion that we sometimes 
 indulge that we are better than we are, — or that 
 there is less required of us in the word of God 
 than there really is, — or that Q-od has not tied up 
 the promises of the G-ospel so closely as He has, to 
 a life of faith and fervent charity. But if there 
 is satisfaction, sometimes, in delusions such as 
 these, it it but momentary, and a satisfaction to 
 be dreaded rather than desired. There is no 
 safety in such delusions. If they may save us 
 from present pain, it is only at expense of future 
 evil, made thereby more certain or more severe. 
 
 Can safe practice be founded on false belief? 
 As well may we expect to come to just conclu- 
 sions with reason upon false premises, for the 
 articles of our belief are indeed the premises of 
 our actions. If we follow erroneous opinions, we 
 follow false lights, which may lead astray. It is 
 only the truth that, like a beacon shining amid 
 the darkness, can guide us through the danger of 
 our way to the haven where we would be. 
 
 2. It was said by our Saviour " Ye shall know 
 the truth, and the truth shall make you free." I do 
 not suppose that the simple exhibition of truth to 
 the mind, has power enough to remove the bond- 
 age of sin under which we are by nature, and to 
 deliver us' from its dominion. The disease of our 
 nature is moral not intellectual. But in the bless- 
 ing of God it is a means by which this is effected. 
 Sin averts our minds from the consideration of 
 the great truths of Religion, or insidiously leads 
 
TEE DIGNITY AND VALUE OF TRUTH. 325 
 
 US to more flattering opinions than the truth will 
 warrant, and it must do this, or its power must be 
 diminished. For we cannot go on comfortably in 
 a course of sin", if we distinctly apprehend and 
 fully believe the greatness and the omniscience of 
 God ; and the strictness of His«Law, and that He 
 will reward all men according to their deeds. The 
 truth, then, admitted to the mind, and allowed to 
 have its influence, has a direct tendency to make 
 us free; an effect which, by God's grace, it is 
 often instrumental in producing. 
 
 But has error any such tendency? There is, 
 mingled vsdth most of the errors which men have 
 adopted, a portion of truth, — truth in some way 
 modifled or disguised ; and it is this mixture of 
 truth which gives to error its verisimilitude and 
 its currency; and this mixture of truth Ttmy have 
 — notwithstanding the error with which it is 
 united — a salutary tendency. But in such a union 
 truth can never have its full effect, and without 
 this combination with truth, error can produce 
 nothing but mischief. Instead of giving freedom 
 to the soul, it only multiplies its fetters. It adds 
 the power of delusion to the dominion of sin. 
 
 3. It is only the truth, which can save us. A 
 state of salvation is undoubtedly compatible with 
 a very considerable degree of error in religious 
 belief; how much we know not, — nor need we, 
 for we are not the judges of other men ; but the 
 fact is plain ; for men differing in Religious belief 
 have been sincere Christians. God frequently 
 overrules untoward events to His own glory, and 
 
326 SERMON XVII. 
 
 in His gracious Providence, He sometimes pre- 
 vents the delusions to which the weaknesses of 
 men expose them, from frustrating the designs of 
 His mercy. 
 
 But, notwithstanding this, there can be no 
 doubt that it is only the truth that can have a ten- 
 dency to effect our salvation, and that all error, 
 and just in that degree in which it departs from 
 the truth, must have a contrary tendency. It has 
 been shown that truth is and must be the founda- 
 tion of a just religious practice, and that it is 
 truth only that makes us free fi'om the dominion 
 of Sin. 
 
 God has revealed to us the way of Salvation — 
 Why ? Because it was important for us to know 
 it. If we entertain false apprehensions of it, how 
 are we better off, than if Revelation had not been 
 made? True, since Revelation has been made, 
 our errors are more or less approximatingto the 
 truth, and feel more or less of its influence, a-nd 
 thus are not so gross as those of Pagans. But, 
 still, just so far as they lead us away from the 
 simple truth, they lead us away from the knowl- 
 edge which is necessary for our salvation, and 
 into peril of our souls; they lead us into false 
 views of the demands of God, false views of the 
 conditions upon which He bestows eternal life. 
 The conditions of salvation which God has made, 
 known, will remain the conditions of salvation, 
 whatever misconceptions we may have been se- 
 duced into concerning them. God has command- 
 ed all men every where to repent, and will He 
 
THE DIGNITY AND VALUE OF TRUTH. 327 
 
 accept of penance for repentance because some 
 have chosen so to render it? But, farther, though 
 our errors may not be so flagrant as those into 
 which the unenlightened Heathen have fallen, 
 they are in some respects more criminal, and, 
 therefore, more dangerous. If we err, we do it 
 without apology, for we have a lamp to guide our 
 feet and a light shining upon our paths. We 
 have the word of God to teach us ; and our errors 
 are more often the effect of obstinacy and willful 
 blindness, than of the difficulties of our condition. 
 
 4. One consideration more. It is the truth by 
 which we shall be judged. "We shall one day be 
 called to give to God an account of the deeds done 
 in the body, whether they be good or bad. And at 
 the judgment, God will follow precisely the same 
 rule which He has given us for the guide of our 
 life. And this rule may be called the truth, both 
 because it is founded upon the nature of things, 
 and of the relations which we sustain as moral 
 beings; and because, being the rule by which God 
 has determined to judge us, it is also proposed as 
 that whereby we may regulate our actions. 
 
 "We may doubtless suppose, that inevitable igno- 
 rance of the Law of God may form an excuse for 
 not obeying it. But absolutely in this condition 
 no member of the human family has been left. 
 For, as St. Paul says, those that have not the law 
 " are a law unto themselves," and have a law 
 " written in their hearts." But the dictates of 
 this law are not uttered with the same precision 
 and clearness as those of the revealed law of God, 
 
328 SERMON XVIi. 
 
 and such allowance as justice may require to be 
 made on this account will doubtless be made. 
 But with this matter we have nothing to do. We 
 are not in the condition of the Heathen. We have 
 the Eevelation of God, and know precisely the 
 rule by which our actions will be tried. We. shall 
 be judged by the rule of eternal right, and by that 
 rule as revealed to us. 
 
 No other law but that which is the truth, will 
 serve as a basis for the proceedings of the final 
 judgment, for there is none other which would 
 lead to a just or consistant decision. Error has 
 as little fixedness of form or coloring as a Summer 
 cloud. Its shapes are endless, and its hues vary 
 with all the variation in the dispositions, the fan- 
 cies, the conditions, and temptations, of man. 
 Truth only is fixed, — ^truth only is immutable. 
 
 How manifest, then, that we can have no real 
 interest in knowing and believing any thing but 
 the truth. We may have the interest of partisans 
 in supporting error; and delusions may some 
 times be sources of temporary satisfaction, and so 
 may be the fancies of a lunatic. But truth only is 
 real. Truth only can be the basis of certain 
 hopes. Truth only can be the foundation of just 
 principles of action. And it is only so far as we 
 follow truth, that at the bar of Eternal truth we 
 can hope for approbation. 
 
 Let us then follow it, — not content with indo- 
 lently asking with Pilate what it is, — but making 
 a diligent and honest use of all the means we have, 
 of attaining to the accurate knowledge of it. 
 
THE DIGNITY AND VALUE OF TRUTH. 329 
 
 The attainment, however, is not always an easy- 
 matter. The utter confusion of truth, in the mul- 
 titudes of sects which distract the Christian world, 
 forbids us to suppose that it is an inheritance to 
 which we are inevitably born ; and yet, too often 
 do men act as if they regarded it in this light, by 
 rejecting any doubt as to the justness of their own 
 notions, and setting aside discussion as useless. 
 They make no enquiry how they came by their 
 notions ; but their having thera they seem to re- 
 gard as evidence enough of their reasonableness. 
 It is not possible for us critically to examine all 
 our opinions upon every subject. Nor is this 
 necessary. If we settle our minds well as to the 
 great and fundamental principles of Religion and 
 Morality, we shall secure ourselves upon the most 
 important points; and we shall form habits and 
 rules of judging, which will save us iu a great 
 measure from wrong decisions in questions of less 
 moment; and we shall be aided in this if we 
 should remember that that which is new in Relig- 
 ion is always likely to be false ; that that which 
 has been the uniform belief of the Church of God 
 from the beginning, decided in her Councils and 
 recorded in the Creeds, is doubtless true ; and that 
 which contradicts it is doubtless error, however 
 plausible it may be in appearance. 
 
 Truth is to be judged of by evidence, and we 
 must beware not only of trusting too much to un- 
 examined opinions, because we happen to hold 
 thera, but of allowing too much influence to our 
 wishes or aversions. There are, many times, 
 
330 SERMON XVII. 
 
 things which we earnestly desire to find true, and 
 others which we are as desirous of persuading our- 
 selves to be false ; and if we are not sufficientlj' 
 aware of this source of deception to be on our 
 guard against it, we shall be likely to come to the 
 conclusions which are conformable to our wishes. 
 This point is important to be considered in refer- 
 ence to Religion, for all religious truth has a bear- 
 ing on our hopes and fears of a future world. 
 And when the realities of the future are clearly 
 apprehended, and come to the mind with power, 
 our hopes and fears are deeply excited, and exert 
 a strong bias upon the judgment. 
 
 It is to be considered, too, that in matters of 
 Religion our inclinations are prone to be enlisted 
 against the truth. It is the purpose of Revelation 
 not to flatter us, but to teach us that we are fallen 
 beings, and in our own nature inclined to evil, — 
 a fact which we feel no pride in admitting. It 
 teaches us, also, that we are not to expect to be 
 restored to holiness and the favor of God, by any 
 splendid performances which will redound to our 
 own honor, but by repentance, — by humbly con- 
 fessing and forsaking our sins, and by believing in 
 Him, who has made atonement for sin, and faith- 
 fully keeping His commandments. It teaches us, 
 too, that we must lead a life of self-denial, and 
 strive to bring into moral control some of the 
 strongest passions of our nature. If we suffer, 
 then, our inclinations to sway us in forming our 
 opinions, we shall be in danger of so modifying 
 the truth, as to make it less offensive to our pride, 
 and less hostile to indulgence. 
 
THE DiamTY AND VALUE OF TRUTH. 331 
 
 We must also guard against that pride which 
 refuses to be taught. Influenced by a spirit of 
 self-sufficiency, we are apt to forget our need of 
 Divine instruction, and to suppose that we know 
 well enough the way of truth, and the way of 
 duty. 
 
 Difficult as it may be to arrive at the simple 
 truth, it is not unattainable. It is not hid in a well. 
 That which is most important for us to know lies 
 upon the very surface of Revelation, though its 
 profounder depths may require long and laborious 
 study. The principal difficulties in the way of 
 such a knowledge as is necessary, are removed 
 when we come to the study of the Scriptures with 
 an humble spirit; under the guidance, not of sects 
 of yesterday, but of the universal Church of God, 
 and with a disposition to know the will of God. 
 Such a spirit will set aside many of the hindrances 
 which bar up our way to the truth ; and he that 
 is desirous to do the will of God has the express 
 promise of knowing of the doctrine. We must 
 love the truth better than our own prejudices or 
 opinions, and place no value upon the systems or 
 opinions of men, except as they are conformed 
 to it. 
 
 Truth does not force itself upon us like the 
 objects of sense, for truth is the concern of the 
 moral and spiritual man, and it is fit that it be 
 sought after by his own agency. It is, too, of in- 
 finite value, and it is therefore fit that it should, 
 to some degree, be reserved as a reward of honest 
 pains. 
 
332 SERMON XVII. 
 
 Wherefore, my Brethren, let us, too, use the 
 words of the "Wise Man, — " Buy the truth and sell 
 it not." Let us search for it as for hid treas- 
 ure. It is worth the search, for the soul without 
 it has no real object of contemplation. To have 
 fancies of our own, or to know the fancies of other 
 men, will avail us nothing. ISTothing but truth — 
 eternal reality — comes up to the dignity of an im- 
 mortal spirit, — upon nothing but truth can it rely. 
 Let us not forget it in the strife of opinions, or lose 
 sight of it in the contest for victory. He who 
 triumphs in an argument which binds himself 
 more strongly to his attachments to error, and 
 draws others into it, triumphs to his cost; and 
 puts on the laurel, when it were more fitting that 
 he should wear cypress. Let us come to the word 
 of God with humble minds, and with spirits pros- 
 trate before him, and filled with hearty desires to 
 know and do his will; and that Word which giveth 
 light to the simple, will irradiate our understand- 
 ings ; and we shall experience the fulfilment of 
 that promise "If any man lack wisdom, let him 
 ask of God Who giveth to all men liberally and 
 upbraideth not." 
 
 And, my Brethren, it is particularly important 
 for us to know the simple and honest truth in re- 
 lation to ourselves. All truth is practical, and 
 it is important because it is practical; and we have 
 i;ot learned it to effect, until we have searched 
 for the correction of our own errors, and applied 
 it closely to our own characters, and to our own 
 expectations. Have we done this ? Have you care- 
 
TEE DIGNITY AND VALUE OF TRUTH. 333 
 
 fully measured yourselves with the requiremeiits of 
 God ? Have you honestly admitted the testimony 
 of Scripture, to your own personal need of the 
 pardoning grace of God, and of the renevdng of the 
 Holy Ghost? Are you ready to plead guilty to 
 the sins which Conscience may charge against you, 
 or do you seek to extenuate them, and make them 
 out to be trifles, which God vnll not and you need 
 not notice. The suspicion sometimes comes across 
 the mind of a man, that all is not right with him, 
 and he strives to suppress it. But is this manly ? 
 If we are wrong shall we not confess it ; if we are 
 in danger shall we not look it in the face, and strive 
 to avert it ? If we are not such as God requires 
 us to be, and such as we ought to be, shall we not 
 desire to know it ? Who would not wish to know, 
 if his house were on fire ? Who would not wish 
 to know as soon as possible that an insidious dis- 
 ease was commencing its attack upon his consti- 
 tution? In knowledge of our dangers lies our 
 safety, and he, who cannot rouse himself to look 
 deliberately at the danger which threatens him, 
 must make up his mind to be overwhelmed by it. 
 If any should find the truth bearing hard upon 
 your hopes, or your estimate of your own charac- 
 ters in the sight of God, do not turn away from 
 it on that account, but give it the more earnest 
 heed. Look upon it as imparting to you a knowl- 
 edge which is necessary to your safety. Cherish 
 it, and let it become the means of bringing you 
 into safety and peace with God. Learn then, to 
 prize the truth however unpleasant ; nay, remem- 
 
334 SERMON XVII. 
 
 ber that the more it puts you in the wrong the 
 more valuable it is to you ; just as no knowledge 
 is so important to the sick man, as the knowledge 
 of his disease. 
 
 All your interests point you to the truth, — to 
 simple — unsophisticated — plain — and personal 
 truth. Seek for it. Believe it. Cherish it. Fol- 
 low it. And God, of His mercy, grant that it 
 may be the means of making you free, with the 
 liberty of the sons of God. 
 
SERMON XVIII. 
 
 THE WORK OF THE MINISTRY. 
 
 2 Timothy iv. 5. "Make full proof of tht 
 
 MINISTRY." 
 
 This brief sentence is the conclusion, and as it 
 were the summing-up, of the counsels ;md exhort- 
 ations of the great Apostle of the Greiiciles, to his 
 favorite disciple and son in the Faith. 
 
 The fulness of its meaning will be best under- 
 stood, by surveying the different points of his 
 exhortation, and then looking into his own life 
 and labors for a commentary. He exhorts Timo- 
 thy to be " a partaker of the afflictions of the Gos- 
 pel," — " to endure hardness as a good soldier," — 
 " to preach the word, instant in season and out of 
 season," — "to reprove and to exhort with all long- 
 suffering and doctrine," — " to watch in all things," 
 — " to endure afflictions," — in short, to " make full 
 proof of his Ministry:" — ^A Ministry of the utmost 
 importance to the Salvation of a sinful world ; a 
 Ministry appointed by God, relying on His grace, 
 looking forward to a glorious reward ; but full of 
 difficulties and dangers, bringing with it reproach 
 and hatred, the forsaking of friends and bitter per- 
 secutions from enemies, and often death itself. 
 The exhortations of the Apostle were not mere 
 
336 SERMON XVIII. 
 
 words of course, as Timothy well knew; for he 
 had " fully known his doctrine, manner of life, 
 purpose, faith, long-suffering, charity, patience, per- 
 secutions, afflictions, which came unto him at 
 Antioch, at Iconium, at Lystra, what persecutions 
 he endured, though out of them all the Lord deliv- 
 ered him." He knew also, that these exhortations 
 were written from a prison, which he had earned 
 by his holy and zealous labors, and from which he 
 expected to be released only by Martyrdom ; — 
 " I am now ready to be offered, and the time 
 of my departure is at hand." They were the 
 exhortations of a good and tried soldier of Jesus 
 Christ, who had fought a good fight, and had 
 kept the Faith; encouraging his beloved son in the 
 Gospel and in the Ministry to press on faithfully, 
 through the same rough road to the Crown of 
 righteousness. 
 
 It is true, these exhortations and counsels were 
 addressed to a Bishop, and may seem not suited 
 to the present occasion ; but although, in hife first 
 Epistle to Timothy, the Apostle had specific refer- 
 ence to his Episcopal powers and functions, and 
 directed him how he should discharge them ; in 
 this second Epistle, he writes rather as a father to 
 a son, — as one who had grown old in an arduous 
 but glorious service ; — one rich in experience, both 
 of the trials and grace of the Gospel, to a young 
 but hopefal follower, soon to be left by his death 
 in spiritual orphanage. They relate to duties and 
 difficulties and dangers, which are incident to the 
 Ministry, shared by those in the humblest positions. 
 
THE WORK OF THE MINISTRY. 337 
 
 though falling in fullest measure on the most con- 
 spicuous. 
 
 I may then properly use this exhortation of the 
 Apostle, though addressed to one in the highest 
 grade of the Christian Ministry, as the foundation 
 of my remarks at this time; and urge my Breth- 
 ren, — who are now some to he admitted to Holy 
 Orders, and some to be advanced to the Priest- 
 hood, — to resolve with an earnest and intelligent de- 
 termination, to "make full proof of their Ministry." 
 
 They will not, however, expect me to direct them 
 fully how they are to do this. Such an attempt 
 would be too large for me, and too large for our 
 discourse ; and I shall limit myself to such a view 
 of the general subject, as is practicable, and as 
 seems to me, under the present circumstances, 
 most useful. 
 
 What then is the ministkt ? 
 
 It is a point agreed upon, in the Creeds of 
 almost every Body calling itself Christian, that 
 our Lord Jesus Christ established a Church in the 
 world, to be the great instrument in perpetuating 
 and extending the knowledge and the power of 
 His Gospel. This point is so clear in the Holy 
 Scriptures, that it would seem impossible for any 
 one to deny or to doubt it. 
 
 It was foretold by the Spirit of Prophecy, that 
 the " God of Heaven would set up a kingdom 
 which should never be destroyed;" and our 
 Saviour said to Peter, " on this Rock will I build 
 my Church;" and he pledges its safety.and per- 
 petuity in these remarkable words, "the gates of 
 
338 SERMON XVIII. 
 
 Hell shall not prevail against it;" and, as if to 
 establish the identity of the Church then to be es- 
 tabhshed, with the Kingdom of Heaven foretold 
 by Prophecy, he adds — " and I will give unto thee 
 the keys of the Kingdom of Heaven." 
 
 This Church, in the language of St. Paul, was 
 to be, "the pillar and ground of the truth," and 
 through it was to be " made known," not only to 
 men but even " to the principalities and powers in 
 Heavenly places, the manifold wisdom of GrOD." 
 This Church was intended to unite in its ample 
 fold the whole body of the faithful ; " for,"as the 
 Apostle says, " by one Spirit are we all baptized 
 into one body, whether we be Jews or Gentiles, 
 whether we be bond or 'free." And as in the 
 beginning, " The Lord added to the Church daily 
 such as should be saved," so it was designed in all 
 time, that " the Ark of Christ's Church" should 
 be a place of safety for His followers. 
 
 This church was to be One, — " One body," — 
 « One body in Christ," " One Fold and One Shep- 
 herd," " even as Christians are called in One hope 
 of their calling." How could it be otherwise ? 
 For there is but " One Lord, — One Faith, — One 
 Baptism." A common Faith, and a common Cov- 
 enant, and a common Seal of the Covenant, bind 
 them to the service and obedience of a common 
 Master, and to the expectation of the same reward. 
 It was but One Church which Christ established, 
 " in which were to be gathered together in One," 
 as by a common bond, " all things in Christ, both 
 which are in Heaven, and which are on Earth." 
 
TSE WORK OF THE MINISTRY. 339 
 
 Of this Church, Christ is the Head ; not only as 
 a Prince is head of a State, governing and protect- 
 ing its members, but as the Head is the seat and 
 centre of living power to the Body. For He is 
 " Head over all things to the Church, which is 
 His Body;" nay farther, " the fulness of Him that 
 filleth all in all." He is "the Head, from which all 
 the Body by joints and bands having nourishment 
 ministered, and knit together, increaseth with the 
 increase of God." It is thus, then, that union with 
 Him in this Church is appointed as the means of 
 deriving spiritual nourishment from Him, and 
 holding communion with Him. It seems to be 
 through the same medium, also, that we realize the 
 Communion of Saints, — " for we being many, are 
 One body in Christ, and hence every one members 
 one of another." " So that whether one member 
 suffer all the members suffer with it, or one mem- 
 ber rejoice, all the members rejoice with it." 
 
 For this Church, Christ gave Himself "He 
 loved the Church and gave Himself for it, that He 
 might sanctify and cleanse it with the washing of 
 water by the word, that He might present it to 
 Himself a glorious Church, not having spot, or 
 wrinkle, or any such thing." 
 
 For this Church, He as the Mediator, is made 
 Head over all things ; for besides that supremacy 
 which belonged to Him by nature. He was, after 
 His Resurrection, set " far above all principality, 
 and power, and might, and dominion, and every 
 name that is named, not only in this world, but in 
 that which is to come ; and all things were put 
 
340 SERMON XVIII. 
 
 under His feet, and He was given to be Head 
 over all things to the Church." So tliat He not 
 only has supreme power in the Church, but over 
 all things with reference to the Church. 
 
 In this Church, then, under His government and 
 by the mighty operations of His Spirit, dwelling 
 in it, — through the means of its Teachings, its 
 Discipline, and its Sacraments, the great work of 
 the Redemption and Salvation of a lost world is 
 carried on. 
 
 But this Church consists of men, and in it there 
 is also a human agency ; and this brings us to the 
 answer to the question, — What is this Ministry, 
 which is spoken of in the text ? " And God hath 
 set some in the Church, first Apostles, — secondarily 
 Prophets, — thirdly Teachers ;" — or as it is said in 
 another place, " He gave some. Apostles ; and 
 some, Prophets ; and some. Evangelists; and some. 
 Pastors and Teachers ; for the perfecting of the 
 Saints, for the work of the Ministry, for the 
 edifying of the Body of Christ ; till we all come, 
 in the unity of the faith, and of the knowledge 
 of the Son of God, unto a perfect man, unto 
 the measure of the stature of the fulness of 
 Christ." 
 
 The Ministry then, as a body, consists of these 
 persons whom God has set in the Church, for the 
 discharge of the special functions of teaching, and 
 administering its Sacraments, and its Discipline ; 
 and the Ministry, as a service, consists in the dis- 
 charge of such of these functions, as to any one 
 mav be committed. 
 
TEE WORK OF THE MINI8TBT. 341 
 
 The Miuistry, then, is not an independent thing, 
 but a part of the organization of Christ's Church; 
 and to be called to the Ministry, is not to be called 
 to act the public Orator merely, to proclaim one's 
 own convictions, to expound one's own theories of 
 truth and duty, or to pursue one's own plans of 
 usefulness. It is an appointed part of a great 
 scheme for human Redemption, and must be dis- 
 charged in the appointed way. The Minister of 
 Jesus Christ must declare the appointed message 
 of mercy, and train up those who fall under his 
 ministry, in the use of the appointed means of 
 grace. He must teach the appointed Doctrines, 
 minister the appointed Sacraments, and govern 
 himself and others by the appointed Discipline. 
 
 He may be an ingenious speculator, but he has 
 no patent against error; and if he utters truth, his 
 truth may not be the truth which shall make men 
 free. He may devise skilful measures for capti- 
 vating public attention, but he cannot inform these 
 measures with the living power of the Holy Ghost; 
 and without this, however captivating they may 
 be, they will be of no effect in the work of regen- 
 erating the human heart. He may devise methods 
 of discipline, suited as he may imagine to the 
 genius of the people, or the spirit of the age, but 
 he cannot give them the authorityiof Gon, and hia 
 binding or losing on earth will have no registry 
 in heaven. 
 
 Having given this general answer to the ques- 
 tion, What is the Ministry ? we shall be carried on 
 into the more particular consideration of it, in 
 
342 SERMON XVIII. 
 
 discussing the question — What is it to make full 
 proof of this Ministry ? 
 
 The words "make full proof" are rendered in 
 the margin ^fulfil," and this is a more literal trans- 
 lation of the text — "Fulfil thy ministry;" i. e. 
 discharge fully all its duties, watching in all things, 
 as the great Apostle says in the same verse, ready 
 to endure afSictions. 
 
 What then are the great duties of the Ministry ? we 
 shall see them stated with authority, if we look 
 into the Commission under which the Ministry 
 acts, as that Commission was solemnly uttered by 
 our Saviour, and recorded at the close of St. Mat- 
 thew's Gospel. " All power is given unto me in 
 Heaven and in Earth. Go ye therefore, and teach 
 all nations, baptizing them in the name of the 
 Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost; 
 teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I 
 have commanded you ; and, lo, lam with you alway, 
 even unto the end of the world. Amen." 
 
 The word translated teach, " Go ye, teach all 
 nations" is more exactly rendered "muke disciples;" 
 as is remarked by almost every Commentator on 
 the passage. The Commission, then, may thus be 
 rendered. Go make disciples of all nations, baptizing 
 them, and teaching them to observe whatsoever 
 things I have commanded, whatsoever institutions 
 I have appointed, whatsoever rules of life I have 
 prescribed; and, lo, here is your encouragement 
 and your strength — I am with you alway, even to 
 the end of the world. 
 
 The means by which the Gospel is presented to 
 
THE WORK OF THE MINISTRY. 343 
 
 men so as to induce them to become disciples of 
 Christ, is preaching; not merely what we are accus- 
 tomed to call preaching, the delivering of formal 
 sermons, but the proclaiming in whatever way the 
 message of the Gospel. In the ITew Testament, 
 the public reading of the Holy Scriptures is called 
 preaching; as where it is said, " Moses of old hath 
 in every city them that preach him, being read in 
 the synagogues every Sabbath day." And St. 
 Paul was equally engaged in preaching the Gospel, 
 when 'he " taught from house to house," as when 
 he taught publicly; when during his imprison- 
 ment at Rome he received all that came to him, 
 and as they came into his own hired house, preach- 
 ing the Kingdom, — as when he proclaimed it in the 
 market place and in the midst of Mars Hill to the 
 multitude and the Magistrates and the Philoso- 
 phers of Athens. 
 
 To make known the message of the Gospel is 
 the business of preaching ; that Christ the Incar- 
 nate Son of God came into the world to save sin- 
 ners ; that He died for our Redemption ; that He 
 rose again, and ascended into Heaven; that He 
 will come again at the last day, and call us from 
 our graves, to stand reinvested in bodily forms, to 
 be judged according to the deeds done in the 
 body; that He will condemn the impenitent and 
 unbelieving to everlasting punishment, and receive 
 the righteous to life eternal. In addition to these 
 great truths, he must call men to their duty, and 
 shew them what manner of persons they ought to 
 be in all holy conversation and godliness ; must 
 
344 8EBM0N XVIII. 
 
 lead them to repentance, to faitli, to becoming 
 members of Christ's body, and to a life of obedi- 
 ence, self-denial, and self-discipline. 
 
 The public preaching of the G-ospel is a matter 
 of the highest moment, and the private scarcely- 
 less. In the pulpit we easily run into generalities, 
 which fail of reaching the conscience of men ; or 
 into a swelling style of declamation, which like a 
 pleasant song amuses the ear, but carries little in- 
 struction to the understanding. Many persons sit 
 Sunday after Sunday, and year after year, under 
 the public preaching of the Gospel, and yet acquire 
 very little distinct knowledge of its truths. Their 
 understandings are not reached, and without pri- 
 vate intercourse, the preacher cannot know that 
 they are not; nor can he reach them without the 
 more direct and plain preaching in private and 
 from "house to house," as each man's wants shall 
 suggest the text. It is important then for one 
 who would make full proof of his Ministry, to 
 cultivate the talent for private preaching, the tal- 
 ent to seize favorable moments for giving instruc- 
 tion, of throwing out well-timed remarks, which 
 like single seeds dropped into a prepared soil, may 
 be more fruitful than a lavish expenditure of words 
 and arguments, where there is no softness of the 
 heart to receive, or dew of grace to nourish them. 
 It is important to ensure the success of his labors, 
 and important, because the practice of it will tend 
 much to give point and directness to his Sermons 
 from the pulpit. It is in this way, perhaps, he 
 will best fulfil the Apostle's injunction, "to preach 
 
TEE WORE OF THE MINISTRY. 345 
 
 the word instant in season and out of season." In 
 this way, too, he will best follow the example of 
 our blessed Lord, who preached not only through 
 the cities, and to the multitudes who thronged 
 Him, even in desert places; but gave to Mcode- 
 mus, who came to Him privately by night, and to 
 the Samaritan woman, whom He met by the well- 
 side at Sychar, two of his richest and most in- 
 structive discourses. 
 
 As to the matter of it, the preaching of the 
 Gospel consists mainly in declaring what Christ 
 has done for us, and what He has provided for us 
 to do. It is mainly a declaration of facts, and of 
 duties. It may sometimes call for argumentative 
 defences of the Faith, and give room for discus- 
 sions of what it was fit that God should do, and 
 fit that He should require of man; but it is not 
 to be forgotten that discussions of the fitness of 
 things, abstract discourses on fate and free-will, 
 developments of our conceptions of the Divine 
 benevolence and Divine justice, and speculations as 
 to what such attributes as we ascribe to Gob, must 
 lead them to do and us to hope, — are not preaching 
 the Gospel, l^atural Theology is not Christian 
 Theology ; and Moral Philosophy is not the Gos- 
 pel of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. The 
 Gospel is a message, and as we have received it 
 so must we deliver-it. We receive it, it is true, 
 as rational beings, and may, nay ought to apply 
 ourselves to understand it. "We may seek to catch 
 its idea, and, so we do it reverently, may seek to 
 give it a Scientific exposition. But never should 
 
346 SERMON XVIII. 
 
 one venture upon such a work, but upon his 
 knees, and with fear and trembling, lest he per- 
 vert the Gospel of Christ, and expound it into 
 something, which it is not. It is easy to go astray 
 in such an inquiry. God's thoughts are not ours ; 
 and when we flatter ourselves that we have at- 
 tained the conception of the pure ideal of the 
 Christian scheme, and have gotten into its very 
 heart, the probabilities are infinite that our con- 
 ceptions fully developed would not give us the 
 whole idea of Christianity ; nay, it would not be 
 wonderful, if they should lead us into deductions 
 the most erroneous. The crowd of Heresies which 
 have beset the Church, in all ages, furnishes ample 
 illustration of this truth. Some of them may 
 have been intentional perversions of the Gospel 
 for private ends ; but generally, I imagine, they 
 have proceeded from fancies hastily taken up, and 
 then pertinaciously defended, — or speculations too 
 hard for their authors; irreverent inquiries into 
 subjects too high for them, and which have led not 
 only to their deceiving but being deceived. 
 
 This point is worthy of distinct notice, for noth- 
 ing is more common than the indulgence of this 
 spirit of Rationalism, and working out some 
 scheme of Christianity; which stands for the 
 whole Gospel of the Son of God, while it leaves 
 out much that is vital to its integrity, or vital to 
 its influence among men. It is matter of course, 
 that thxit which our theory does not shew to be of 
 importance, should not appear to be so; and if 
 not, the same spirit which led the Pharisee to 
 
THE WORK OF TSE MINISTRY. 347 
 
 inquire after the great Commandment in the Law, 
 that he might neglect the less, will lead us to 
 reject it. It is thus that some make nothing, in 
 their scheme of Christianity, of the Divine nature 
 and the sacrifice of Christ, — some, nothing of the 
 gi-ace of the Holy Ghost, — some, nothing of Faith, 
 — some, nothing of the Christian life, and Christian 
 morals, — some, nothing of the Church, — some, 
 nothing of the Sacraments. But, whatever they 
 omit, they mar the integrity of the Gospel, and 
 cannot make full proof of, nor fulfil, their Ministry. 
 Whatever it has pleased God to reveal must have 
 its importance, though our imperfect theory of 
 Christianity does not shew it; and whatever ar- 
 rangement it has pleased God to make for our sal- 
 vation, whatever institution to establish for our 
 furtherance and joy of faith, it is not safe for us 
 to disregard it, much less to treat it " as a weak 
 and beggarly element." It is not the spirit of 
 system by which we are to be guided, — not what 
 we please to call the analogy of the faith, which 
 may shut out every thing not in harmony with 
 our narrow conceptions ; but the full Revelations 
 of God, for it is by every word that cometh out 
 of His mouth that man must live ; and if we wish 
 for the safest Digest of the truths of Christianity, 
 we shall find them in those Creeds, which have 
 come down to us from the first ages, and have 
 received the testimony of the great Body of the 
 faithful, and been witnessed through all her 
 changes by the Church, which was designed to 
 be the Pillar and Ground of the truth. 
 
348 SERMON XVIII. 
 
 Circumstances may render it proper, that one 
 truth be made more prominent in the message at 
 one time, and another at another, — but the faith- 
 ful messenger, determined to fulfil his ministry, 
 will let no part of it fail to be understood through 
 his neglect. 
 
 And, certainly, when the first Article in his 
 Commission bids him "make disciples of all nations," 
 he will not allow it to appear a matter of no mo- 
 ment, by his teachings, whether one becomes or 
 not a member of the visible Church, the Body of 
 Christ, and the Communion of the Faithful. 
 
 Let us consider, for a moment, the end of 
 Preaching. It is to make disciples. " Make disciples 
 of all nations ;" Bring them all into the fold ; "Go 
 into the highways and hedges and compel them 
 to come in, that my fwnse may be filed." The end 
 of preaching is not to display the preacher's talent, 
 nor to gain a reputation. It is not attained, by 
 securing a barren assent to his doctrines. It is 
 not attained by moving audiences to tears, or 
 exciting their admiration. It is attained only when 
 men are persuaded to become, openly, formally, 
 professedly, disciples of Christ; by Baptism, if they 
 have not already been baptized in their infancy, 
 by the renewal of their vows in Confirmation if 
 they have. 
 
 Hence, the next point in the Ministerial Com- 
 mission, which must be rightly and faithfully 
 discharged in order to the fulfilment of Ministerial 
 duty; "Make disciples of all nations, — Baptizing 
 them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, 
 
THE WORK OF THE MINISTRY. 349 
 
 and of the Holy Ghost." Baptism is the initiatory 
 rite by which we become Members of the Christian 
 Church ; by which in fact it is appointed for us 
 to enter upon the Christian life, and become 
 entitled to those covenanted gifts and graces,with- 
 out which we should in vain struggle against the 
 inherent conceptions of our natures, and the 
 temptations of the world. Baptizing, therefore, 
 occupies a prominent position in the Ministerial 
 Commission, and is commanded with solemn em- 
 phasis ; and yet how many Christians, wiser than 
 their Lord, have pronounced it a mere form, — 
 a beggarly element, — of no account in the salva- 
 tion of men, — the omission of it no hindrance, — 
 the performance of it no help. How happens it 
 that after so distinct and solemn a command, en- 
 forced by the promise, " he that believeth and is 
 baptized shall be saved" (not he that believeth only), 
 men should venture to believe it a matter of small 
 account ? It is because our theories, our "views" 
 of Christianity have taken the place of the full 
 Gospel of Christ ; and in these Baptism plays no 
 important part, we cannot see its use, and the word 
 of our Lord goes for nothing. There are multi- 
 tudes among us who live and die unbaptized ; 
 and common opinion can see in this omission, no 
 defect in their title to the hopes of the Gospel. 
 There are large bodies of professed Christians 
 among us, who make Baptism, not the beginning 
 but as it were the end of the Christian life; a sort 
 of seal put upon those who have attained ; not one 
 which secures to them, who rightly receive it, the 
 
350 SERMON XVIII. 
 
 Grace by which they may attain. On this subject 
 of Baptism there have been errors in opposite 
 directions, — errors of exaggeration,errors of defect. 
 Our errors have been of the latter kind, and these 
 only, therefore, do I touch upon. If there is 
 any tendency among us to error of the former 
 kind, it comes from a reaction ; and if we would 
 guard against it, we must do it, not by adhering 
 to our own erroneous extreme — which would but 
 give force to this reaction — but by seeking the 
 firm ground of truth. 
 
 The tendency among us has been to consider 
 a Religious profession, or in other words, admis- 
 sion to the Christian Church, as a thing to follow 
 the full formation of the Christian character, not 
 as a means thereto ; and this tendency is but a 
 consequence of some of the predominant theories 
 of the latter ages. I am well aware that this ten- 
 dency is losing its force, and that these theories 
 are in a state of decay, — that the precision in doc- 
 trine and practice which once distinguished many 
 Protestant denominations is disappearing; and 
 that the nice distinctions, which were once so 
 earnestly cherished, and were the ground of their 
 separations, are melting away in that fusion of 
 Creeds, which modern charity has devised as the 
 grand means of Christian Union. 
 
 It becomes the more necessary for us to stand 
 firmly on the ground of the ancient Creeds, and • 
 to hold, and if need be to contend for, the Faith 
 once delivered to the Saints. The union of the 
 ,Church cannot be effected by compromise. It 
 
THE WORK OF TEE MINISTRY. 351 
 
 can be grounded only on fidelity to our Lord, and 
 to his Gospel, — not only in its general principles, 
 but in a fidelity which fears to "break the least of 
 His commandments." 
 
 But to return : It is worthy of observation, that 
 sometimes in the course of Providence a rejected 
 truth is arrived at, not perhaps in its original but in 
 some other form, by some slow synthetic process, 
 and reappears in fullest vigor among those who 
 have most loudly denounced it. We have in the 
 midst of us, Societies for the recovery of men 
 from vice and their security in the practice of 
 virtue ; and the very first principle of their success 
 consists in inducing men to join them, and to 
 pledge themselves to live according to their rules. 
 Prepared or unprepared, with reflection or without 
 reflection, — they are called upon, as the first thing, 
 to put their hands to the pledge. There is knowledge 
 of human nature in this procedure. It goes upon 
 the fact that a solemn pledge has power in itself, be 
 it less or more, to influence the actions of men, and 
 that a solemn resolve is the first firm step in amend- 
 ment. It goes, too, upon the fact that such a pledge, 
 binding the person who takes it to the Body which 
 he thereby joins, gives to the members of it a hold 
 upon him, and a right to counsel or reprove. 
 This method of exercising moral infiuence is 
 sometimes looked upon as the boast of our age, 
 the grand invention of modern times ; as the moral 
 machinery by which the World is to be reformed, 
 surpassing in eflicacy all that had ever existed 
 before it. But is it so ? The Church of our Lord 
 
3»i. SERMON XVIII. 
 
 Jesus Christ is a Society, designed not only to be 
 the Home on earth of His established and ma- 
 tured followers, but the School in which men are 
 to be trained as His followers. He appointed a 
 Pledge and Seal as the instrument of admission to 
 it; and as He bade His Ministers to go and make 
 disciples of all nations, so He added, "Baptizing 
 them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, 
 and of the Holy Ghost." That Baptism is a pledge, 
 needs not be told to a Churchman, — for he remem- 
 bers that at his Baptism, he was solemnly called 
 upon " to renounce the Devil and all his works, 
 the pomps and vanity of the World, and the sin- 
 ful desires of the Flesh," — and to pledge himself 
 "to believe all the Articles of the Christian Faith, 
 to keep God's holy Will and Commandments, and 
 to walk in the same all the days of his life." But 
 Baptism is something more than a pledge. It is, 
 as the Articles say, " a sign of Regeneration, 
 whereby, as by an instrument, they that receive 
 Baptism rightly are grafted into the Church, the 
 promises of the forgiveness of sins and of our 
 adoption to be the sons of God by the Holy Ghost, 
 are visibly signed and sealed." It is the Seal of 
 a Covenant between God and man ; a Covenant of 
 grace on the part of God, as well as of obedience 
 on that of man, — nay, of the grace by which the 
 obedience is rendered possible. 
 
 The principle of the pledge is jiot new then? 
 Baptism is not merely the coronation of the 
 Christian life, to be received only when men have 
 attained fulness of stature in Christ. It is a pledge. 
 
THE WORK OF THE MINISTRY. 353 
 
 — not to this one virtue or against that one vice, 
 — but to the practice of all virtue, and the renun- 
 ciation of all vice. It is a pledge, solemnly 
 appointed by God, and accompanied with the 
 promise of His grace, to all who rightly receive it 
 and applj- themselves to keep it. It has, then, an 
 authority and an efficacy which no human device 
 can have ; and surely the Minister of Christ would 
 not be slower to urge men to take this pledge 
 than others — with perhaps himself — are, to bring 
 them to put their names to a promise, which, how- 
 ever good, has been devised by man, and has no 
 assurance of grace. Let him then, as his Saviour 
 commands, in the very words of His commission, 
 be zealous in making disciples of all nations, bap- 
 tizing them in the name of the Father, and of the 
 Son, and of the Holy Ghost. 
 
 While some, — forgetting the nature and object 
 of Baptism, as the Sacrament of the entrance upon 
 the Christian life, or of the new birth, involving a 
 pledge, and having the promise of grace, — ^have put 
 it out of its proper place in the Christian system, 
 or have strangely neglected and undervalued it; 
 there may have been others, who have made the 
 very act of Baptism a source of indefectible grace, 
 an indefeasible title to the blessings of the Cove- 
 nant of which it is the Seal. The faithful Steward 
 of the mysteries of God, who would fulfil his Min- 
 istry, must not err here. He is to remember that 
 there are conditions to the Covenant, and he only 
 who fulfils them can receive its promises; and that 
 it is not taking the pledge but keeping it, which 
 
354 SERMON XVIII. 
 
 has the reward. In the discharge of his Commis- 
 sion, therefore, he is not to administer the Sacra- 
 ment of Baptism to adult persons, but upon their 
 profession of repentance and faith, with reasonable 
 assurance that they understand and have an hon- 
 est ' purpose to keep the promises they therein 
 make; and when he has brought any into the 
 Church of Christ by this means, his Commission 
 makes it his farther duty "to teach them to ob- 
 serve all things whatsoever his Lord hath com- 
 manded." They have made their vows, they have 
 received the promise of the Divine aid, and now 
 they are to be led on and trained in a course of 
 religious obedience. And let the Baptized then be 
 regarded and treated and spoken of, as Christian 
 persons, enrolled in the host of God; pledged 
 soldiers of the Cross ; pledged in a full confession 
 of the faith, and in the promise of a godly life, and 
 bound to lead the rest of their life according to 
 this beginning. The want of good effect from 
 Baptism, which enters so much into the argument 
 of' those who undervalue it, proceeds from consid- 
 ering and acting upon it as nothing. Treat the 
 new-born child with neglect, and what will hap- 
 pen ? Trust to the life he has received without 
 subsequent care or nourishment, and will not its 
 feeble lamp go out ? And if no effort is made to 
 train up the baptized Child in the knowledge and 
 performance of its vows, none to remind the Adult 
 baptized, of his obligations consequent, — if they 
 are left to suppose that they are as they were 
 before, — unless some magic operation may have 
 
THE WOnK OF THE MINISTRY. 355 
 
 passed upon them with the application of the 
 water, — and what will, what must, ordinarily, be 
 the result ? S"o, let them be treated as what they 
 profess to be, let them be called to the duties of 
 their new character, diligently and earnestly; and 
 the smallest of all seeds, if you choose to call it 
 so, will spring up and yield both fruit and shade. 
 Men always receive the grace of God in vain, if 
 they do not cherish it, if they do not strive to live 
 according to it, to cultivate it by an exact obedi- 
 ence, and grow in it. 
 
 Hence the next part of the Ministerial Commis- 
 sion, — Teaching them. Here is a large field of labor 
 for the Minister of Christ, and it needs all possible 
 diligence to enable him to fulfil it. He is diligent- 
 ly to exhort the disciples of Christ, that they walk 
 worthy of the vocation wherewith they are called, 
 — he is to reprove them if they turn aside from 
 the commandments, — to rebuke and to exhort 
 with all long-sufifering and doctrine, — patiently 
 bearing whatever rebuff he may meet with in the 
 discharge of his duty, — and in meekness instruct- 
 ing those that oppose themselves. He is to be 
 their guide in the public worship of God, and to 
 warn them of remissness, either in coming to 
 their duty or in discharging it. He is to call them 
 to that Sacrament which our Saviour commanded 
 His followers to celebrate, as a perpetual remem- 
 brance of His death, and a pledge of His love, and 
 a source of spiritual nourishment and growth ; and 
 that, vrith such faithful and intelligent preparation, 
 that their sinful bodies may therein be made clean 
 
356 SERMON XVIIL 
 
 by His body, and their souls washed through His 
 most precious blood. He is to exhort them to 
 lives of self-denial and self-discipline ; to the de- 
 nial of every indulgence inconsistent with their 
 baptismal vow, and to disciplining theraselves in 
 the practice of every virtue. He is to exhort them 
 to works of piety and charity ; for with the sacri- 
 fice of our worldly goods, either for His glory or 
 for promoting the happiness and relieving the 
 wants of our fellow creatures, God assures us He 
 is well pleased. 
 
 But I cannot touch upon all the points, which, 
 under this head of the Commission, would be 
 necessary for "making full proof of the Ministry." 
 " All things, whatsoever I have commanded you." 
 The Minister must diligently study the commands 
 of Christ, and diligently teach them, — omitting 
 none through fear of offending the prejudices of 
 men, — omitting none because they are distasteful 
 to their corrupt natures, or appear foolishness to 
 their vain understandings. The commands of 
 Christ, not the traditions of men, whether these 
 traditions start from ancient Superstition or mod- 
 ern Kationalism ; and taking them not merely as 
 his limited reason can make them out, but as the 
 Church of which he is a Minister, following the 
 Holy Scriptures, prescribes them. 
 
 The Minister of Christ has a large field of labor 
 before him, and of all men can least excuse him- 
 self in leading an idle life. He must study, that 
 he may understand that which he is to teach oth- 
 ers; he must study faithfully, for his teaching will 
 
THE WORK OF TEE MINISTRY. 357 
 
 be for the endless life or death of those who hear, 
 lie must labor to guide the pledged followers of 
 Christ, who have been sealed with the Seal of the 
 Covenant, and have been made heirs of His grace, 
 into the complete fulfilment of the conditions of 
 that Covenant ; lest they come under the curse of 
 those who vow unto the Lord and do not perform 
 their vows, or fall under the severe punishment of 
 those who abuse the grace of God. While igno- 
 rance and sin are around him, he has no time for 
 repose, except for the renewal of his own strength 
 for his labor. But further, the Minister of Christ 
 is to be an example to the flock, — to teach them by 
 his practice as well as by precept, — to walk before 
 them in the ways of godliness, as Eastern shep- 
 herds walk before their sheep. He must practice 
 the self-denials which he prescribes for them, he 
 must set them a pattern of faith and of patience, 
 of meekness under trials of temper, and of sub- 
 mission under disappointments and discourage- 
 ments ; a pattern of good works, of zeal in the 
 cause of God, of active and self-sacrificing benev- 
 olence in the service of men, of purity and of 
 holiness. And herein, he who would make full 
 proof of his Ministry must not fail nor be remiss, — 
 for let him be assured his preachings and exhorta- 
 tions and rebukes will go for little, if his life belies 
 his words. Men will more readily follow a lax 
 life than severe counsels, if both come with the 
 weight of the same authority. E'ay, the Minister 
 of Christ must not only be blameless, but avoid 
 even the appearance of evil ; and oftentimes he 
 
358 SERMON XVIII. 
 
 must deny himself a just liberty, lest he cause a 
 weak brother to stumble, and hinder his Ministry. 
 
 If his ordinary' life exhibits the levity of a man 
 who lives with no serious purpose and for no 
 serious end, his earnestness in the pulpit will be 
 believed to be a mere periodic visitation, or got 
 up for the occasion ; concealing the real man for 
 the present, but soon to pass oft' and leave-him as 
 he is. It will seem too unreal to awaken any 
 serious feeling, too much like the passion and 
 vehemence of the stage, got up for passing ef- 
 fect, a pleasant variation of the quiet of common 
 life. 
 
 Our Saviour opens the solemn announcement 
 of the Ministerial Commission with the declara- 
 tion of His authority, " All power is given to Me 
 in heaven and in earth," and He closes it with 
 giv^ing to His servants an assurance, — which they 
 will not fail to feel their need of, when they have 
 fairly considered the weight of duties and respon- 
 sibilities, and that their work is to be carried on in 
 the face of subtle and deadly foes, — "Lo, I am 
 with you always, even to the end of the world." 
 " I am with you," — the power which is given Me, 
 shall give force to your labors, and be at hand to 
 sustain your faith, — " always, even to the end of 
 the world." It is not the work of a day on which 
 you are engaged, but of all coming time. Your 
 Ministry will last as long as the world lasts. You 
 may die, but the cause goes on, and if I appoint 
 your blood to be shed in the warfare, it is that it 
 may be the seed of the Church. You may sow 
 
TSE WORK OF THE MINISTRY. 359 
 
 and anothex' reap, but you shall be at tlie gather- 
 ing of the final harvest and reap in joy. 
 
 My young friends — ^You are entering upon an 
 arduous service, for which man would be unequal, 
 were not the grace of God strong, which strength- 
 ens him. If you have been " inwardly moved by 
 the Holy Ghost to take upon you this office and 
 ministration, to serve God for the promoting of His 
 glory and the edifying of His people," you have 
 nothing to fear ; for they that be for you are more 
 than they that be against you. Difficulties and 
 dangers may throng you, but the hosts of God are 
 about j'ou, and if you look with faith you may see 
 them. You have nothing to fear from without, if 
 faithful yourselves. Make full proof of your 
 Ministry, and you will find your strength equal 
 to your day. Simple as are the weapons of your 
 warfare, they will be found, when put to the test, 
 to be mighty through God. 
 
 ( You are to be admitted to the office of a Dea- 
 con, an office of great importance in the Church 
 of Chi'ist; and though a lower office, yet one 
 which looks forward to a higher, with the encour- 
 agement of a special promise, for " they that have 
 used the office of a Deacon well, purchase to them- 
 selves a good degree, and great boldness in the 
 faith which is in Christ Jesus." 
 
 I have said nothing of the peculiar duties of the 
 Diaconate; for the condition of the Church in our 
 country, and I may add, also, the spirit of our 
 times, have led to the practical regarding of this 
 office as little other than one preliminary to full 
 
360 8ERM0N XVIII. 
 
 Orders. The work, which is given to Deacons is 
 much the same as that which is assigned to Priests, 
 except that there are a few functions of the Priest- 
 hood which they are not authorized to perform. 
 
 They are put in charge of Parishes, — they are 
 licensed to Preach, — and they Baptize, — and after 
 they have passed the Canonical period as Deacons, 
 they are made Priests. 
 
 Do not allow yourselves to undervalue the pe- 
 culiar duties of the Office to which you are now to 
 be ordained. Study them as they are contained in 
 the Ordinal, and diligently practice them; they 
 will help you in preparation for the higher degree 
 to which you will look forward.) 
 
 Go on, my Brothers, in the great work to which 
 you have devoted yourselves, with good courage. 
 Suffer no misgivings, look not back ; press for- 
 ward with all your might, and with all the power 
 which prayer and faithfulness will bring from the 
 stores of the Heavenly grace. Fulfil your Minis- 
 try. Make full proof of it, if you would find hap- 
 piness in your work ; make full proof of it, if you 
 would have success in your labors; make full 
 proof of it, if yon would make sure of j'our re- 
 ward. May God make the years of it many, — and 
 when you have finished your course, and the time 
 of your departure is at hand, may you have so 
 fought the good fight and have kept the faith, that 
 you may have the blessed assurance, that there is 
 laid up for you a Crown of Righteousness. 
 
SERMON XIX. 
 
 CHRISTIANITY NOT OF OBSCURE ORIGIN. 
 
 Acts xxvi. 26. " For this thing was not done 
 
 IN A COBNER." 
 
 St. Paul was pleading his cause, and declaring 
 his conversion to Christianity, before King Agrip- 
 pa, and Pestus the Roman Governor of Jndea; 
 when the latter, — regarding the Jewish Scriptures 
 to which this great Apostle appealed, as a Pagan 
 and a haughty Roman Governor utterly ignorant 
 of their contents might be expected to do, — ^inter- 
 rupted him, by telling him he was " beside him- 
 self;" and declaring that his much learning, in 
 what Pestus was pleased to regard as old wive's 
 fables, had made him mad. 
 
 "With true dignity, the Apostle repelled the 
 accusation and appealed to Agrippa, who being 
 " expert in all customs and questions which were 
 among the Jews," was better able to judge, 
 whether, as Pestus said, he was "mad," or as 
 himself averred, spoke " forth the words of truth 
 and soberness." And this appeal he made with 
 the utmost confidence. "I am persuaded" said 
 he, "that none of these things are hidden from 
 him ; for this thing was not done in a corner." 
 " King Agrippa, believest thou the Prophets ?" 
 
362 SERMON XIX. 
 
 Agrippa was too licentious a man to be persuaded 
 to a Christian life ; and he had too much of the 
 wisdom of this world, to put his popularity and 
 political influence in peril, by confessing und fol- 
 lowing out his convictions. Yet he could not 
 altogether resist conviction, and confessed that he 
 was almost persuaded to be a Cliristian. Under 
 the circumstances it was not to be expected, and 
 for the sake of truth hardly to be desired, that he 
 should sustain more explicitly the appeal of the 
 Apostle. His reply is not that of a man desirous 
 of conviction and only imperfectly satisfied ; but 
 of a man, upon whom unwelcome conviction has 
 forced itself, who sees the evidence of truth more 
 clearly than he desires to do it, and tries to satisfy 
 his conscience by a partial admission of it. Just 
 consider that Agrippa and Bernice had come "with 
 great pomp" to- the place of hearing, attended 
 by " the chief Captains, and principal men of the 
 city;" and that by all this courtly audience the 
 prisoner Paul was looked upon as a weak enthusi - 
 ast, "mad" — as Festus thought him — with much 
 study of Jewish fables, or else a profaner of the 
 Temple, and an active enemy of the Mosaic insti- 
 tutions. And before this audience, Agrippa con- 
 fessed that he was almost persuaded to be a 
 Christian. Paul appealed to facts. Agrippa 
 could not deny them, for had they been false, or 
 had they not been most notoriously true, he might 
 and w^ould have refuted or • evaded them ; for he 
 was not convinced so far as to be a real Christian, 
 and a partial witness. 
 
CHRISTIANITY NOT OF OBSCURE ORIGIN. 363 
 
 The appeal of St. Paul was very remarkable. 
 It exhibits the utmost confidence in the truth of 
 Ms cause, in the undeniable nature of the great 
 facts upon which Christianity is grounded. It was 
 made to a profligate Prince, who was interested to 
 put down the new doctrine which Paul preached; 
 whether he desired the favor of the Romans, of 
 whom he held his Kingdom, or of the Jews, who 
 were his subjects. It was made to him ia open 
 court, in which Paul was brought before him for 
 the express purpose, as Festus declares, that inas- 
 much as Paul was to be brought before Csesar for 
 his trial, this Governor of Judea might be able, 
 through Agrippa's assistance, to discover some- 
 thing in the shape of an accusation, something for 
 which he might be tried. It was made also be- 
 fore those who were expecting some development 
 of the prisoner's guilt, and who, wise only towards 
 this world, if they could not discover guilt, would 
 be apt to regard him as a mere setter-forth of 
 strange gods, and engaged in so useless a work, 
 that the more earnest he might be, the more proof 
 would they think he gave of insanity. Under 
 such circumstances, the confession of Agrippa is 
 of great value. It was extorted from him by 
 irresistible conviction, and it proves the certainty 
 of those facts and events on which Christianity is 
 built. 
 
 It is my intention in this discourse, briefly to 
 argue the truth, and enforce the obligations of 
 Christianity, from the fact, which in the Apostle's 
 hands wrought in the mind of Agrippa such pow- 
 
364 SERMON XIX. 
 
 erful, though to him fruitless, convictions. "This 
 thing was not done in a corner." 
 
 I. In pursuing this subject, the first point is to 
 show the fact that the origin of Christianitj', and 
 the great facts and events to which it appeals for 
 evidence, were not obscure. And in pursuing 
 this point : 
 
 1. Let us first consider the time and place se- 
 lected by our Saviour for the publication of His 
 Religion. 
 
 It has always appeared to me a circumstance 
 worthy of particular observation, that the Land of 
 Canaan should have been selected by the Deity, 
 in preference to all others, for the residence of His 
 chosen people. It was situated directly between 
 the Assyrian and Egj.-ptian monarchies, those 
 earliest seats, both of the civilization and the cor- 
 ruption of the human race ; and the kingdoms of 
 PhcBuicia and Syria rose in its immediate neigh- 
 borhood. The Hill of Zion was thus placed, as 
 nearly as possible, in the very centre of the then 
 inhabited world; and although the Religion of the 
 Jews was strictly natibnkl, this situation and the 
 fact that proselytes of other nations were freely 
 admitted to its privileges, shew clearly that this 
 national Religion was intended to operate on sur- 
 rounding nations ; by exhibiting to them the pow- 
 er and attributes of the true God, and thus to check 
 them in their headlong course to idolatry. This 
 thought, it would be foreign to my purpose here 
 to pursue. But remark the striking fact, — Judea 
 
CHRISTIANITY NOT OF OBSCURE ORIGIN. 365 
 
 was chosen as the proper centre of Religious influ- 
 ence in the early ages of the world, yet although 
 civilization and the seat of power had travelled 
 far to the West, it was again most properlj'^ chosen 
 as the theatre on which our Saviour performed His 
 wonderful works, and proclaimed His' doctrine. 
 The conquests of Alexander the Great, were 
 almost entirely to the Eastward of his paternal 
 dominions. Having become, through his own and 
 his father's victories, master of all Greece, he 
 declared war against the Persian power, with ■ 
 which the Greeks had long been contending; and, 
 with unexampled rapidity, overran Asia Minor, 
 Judea, Egypt, Persia, and the countries border- 
 ing on India. The largely extended Empire, thus 
 suddenly formed by conquest, having no bond of 
 union but the conqueror's power, readily yielded 
 to division after his death, and the kingdoms of 
 Egypt, Syria, Thrace, and Macedonia, sprang im- 
 mediately into existence. The two former of these, 
 Egypt and Syria, continued for several centuries, 
 and ranked as powers of the first class ; but the 
 latter soon fell to pieces, and were succeeded by 
 numerous smaller governments. Add to these the 
 Parthian kingdom, which rose in the Eastern part 
 of Alexander's' empire, and Armenia which had 
 been a province of Syria, and after them Palmyra ; 
 and we shall perceive that this Eastern region, the 
 first inhabited part of the earth, the original seat 
 of power, seemed to be coming into a new state 
 of political activity. Just about this period, the 
 Roman Empire had extended its power over the 
 
366 SERMON XIX. 
 
 farthest West, and had crushed its powerful rival 
 on the l!forthern shore of Africa, and not yet quite 
 enervated through luxurj', was looking abroad for 
 a new sphere of conquest. Her aid was solicited 
 by some of the new States just mentioned, in their 
 quarrels with the others ; and thus introduced into 
 the politics of the East, she proceeded from arbi- 
 tration to conquest, till the immense Empire of 
 Alexander was swallowed up in the still larger one 
 of Rome. 
 
 By these Revolutions, and by this return of the 
 tide of Roman conquest from the West to the 
 East, and the seats of Eastern Empire to Western 
 Asia, and the opening of new Eastern Monarchies, 
 — all having political relations such as before nev- 
 er existed, — Judea again came to be in a central 
 position. It had Rome on the West, and was in 
 the midst of her Eastern possessions, while beyond 
 it lay other powers, the object of her ambitious 
 designs. 
 
 Although the seat of universal Empire had 
 travelled Westward, the East was not in obscurity 
 or little known to the conquerors of the Earth. 
 The last exertions of Roman greatness were in the 
 East. The great battle by which Rome came 
 under the imperial power of Cses'ar, was fought 
 within the boundaries of the Kingdom which pre- 
 ceded it in the dominion of the earth. Rome 
 drew her wealth and her manners from the East, 
 and the East was filled with her Proconsuls, her 
 military Commanders, her soldiery, her Officers 
 of the revenue ; and so great was the influence of 
 
CHRISTIANITY NOT OF OBSQUBE ORIGIN. 367 
 
 the wealth and the luxury of this part of her 
 dominions, that at length the seat of Empire itself 
 ' followed the general current, and the Csesars fixed 
 their throne on the confines of Asia, and the Eter- 
 nal City became scarcely more than a Provincial 
 Capital. 
 
 Situated in the direct route, by land, between 
 Egj'pt and all the Asiatic possessions of Rome, 
 Judea could not be an obscure country; and noth- 
 ing of importance could transpire within its bor- 
 ders, but it must be known to the Masters of the 
 World. 
 
 To come to the more particular consideration 
 of the state of Judea, it was, at the time of our 
 Saviour's birth, under the goverameiit of a King 
 of Roman appointment, but a monarch of Jewish 
 origin jealous of any encroachment upon his 
 power, and perfectly unscrupulous as to the means 
 by which ho might rid himself of any person upon 
 whom his suspicions might rest. After his death, 
 the country of the Jews was divided into several 
 governments, all subject to the Roman authority, 
 all requiring the presence of numerous Roman 
 officers, and giving support to numerous Roman 
 dependents. 
 
 Add to this the well known fact that the Jews 
 were a turbulent people, submitted with an ill 
 grace to the dominion of Gentiles, paid with great 
 reluctance the tribute demanded of them, and 
 were frequent in their rebellions. This circum- 
 stance would of course render greater vigilance 
 necessary on the part of their masters, and would 
 
368 SERMON XIX. 
 
 keep them awake to any movement which looked 
 like a rejection of Roman authority. 
 
 Again, it is to be considered, that the Jews in 
 the time of our Saviour were scattered through"- 
 out the whole extent of the Eoraan empire. 
 Vast numbers of them were in Alexandria aud 
 Egypt. The Cities of Asia Minor abounded 
 with them. They were numerous in Syria, and 
 on the borders of the Euphrates and the Tigris. 
 They formed strong parties in the cities of Greece, 
 and were not strangers even in Rome. But where- 
 ever they were, they were Jews. !N"either time 
 nor distance could destroy their affection for the 
 land of their fathers ; and by their prejudices, and 
 their expectations of the future glory of Judea, as 
 well as the law which required them to come to 
 Jerusalem annually to worship, they were led to 
 preserve an intimate connection with the seat of 
 their ligation, to maintain constant intercourse with 
 it, and t9 look anxiously upon all great movements 
 within its borders, in hope and expectation of the 
 Kingdom of the Messiah. 
 
 Again, let it be noted, that our Saviour appear- 
 ed at the very time when the Jews were expecting 
 the Messiah, — and even other nations, through the 
 influence probably of obscure hints which had 
 been derived from the Jewish Scriptures, were look- 
 ing for some great personage. And this circum- 
 stance would have no small tendency to direct the 
 public attention strongly, to any extraordinary 
 personage who might appear. Indeed we well 
 know how easily the Jews were deceived by 
 
CHRISTIANITY NOT OF OBSCURE ORIGIN. 369 
 
 several pretenders to the Messiahship about that 
 time ; persuaded, not by the personal qualifica- 
 tions or characters of these pretenders, but by 
 their own anxious hopes. 
 
 Now, lay all these circumstances together, and 
 it cannot be alleged, that our Saviour chose an ob- 
 scure corner of the earth for the development of 
 His doctrine and the exhibition of His credentials. 
 Had He gone to imperial Rome herself, He would 
 to all practical effect have been less in pub- 
 lic view than in Judea. Who knows not the 
 solitude of a large city, — how much greater the 
 concealment it will give to him who seeks it, than 
 even the solitary wild ? Imperial Rome was the 
 common resort of every sort of character ; of all 
 sorts of pretenders ; the centre of wealth, of polit- 
 ical influence, and of fashion ; abounding in 
 amusements and in business; and was therefore 
 little likely to be excited to attend to the claims 
 of one so noiseless in His manner as our Saviour, 
 and oflfering to the Philosophers no new and curious 
 point for speculation, or to the people no new idol 
 for their worship, or ceremonies for their observ- 
 ance. In Rome, so far as His external appearance 
 and preaching might operate as mere human 
 means. He would have been overlooked in the vast 
 multitude of strange forms and objects, which were 
 every day brought to that great City, from the 
 Asiatic and African Provinces, to amuse the peo- 
 ple and content them under the yoke of Imperial 
 despotism ; He could not have competed for pop- 
 ular favor with the fortuue-tellers from Egypt, 
 
370 SERMON XIX. 
 
 and the subtle Greek, and the mirth-making sons 
 of ]!^uraidia. 
 
 Supposing, then, our Saviour to have exerted 
 mere human means of gaining notoriety, I aver 
 that, in Rome, He would have been unknown or 
 little regarded. Bat in Judea, He instantly re- 
 ceived attention, for His pretensions were ground- 
 ed on Jewish Prophecies. He professed to be Ontj 
 whose coming the Jews most earnestly desired, 
 and whose approach the Roman inhabitants of the 
 country, so far as they might have heard of Him, 
 would look upon with jealousy and apprehension. 
 Our Saviour, then, was more likely to be known 
 in Rome herself, by commencing His ministry in 
 Judea, than if He had gone at once with His pre- 
 tensions to the very gates of Cassar's palace. 
 
 2. In order further to shew that the origin of 
 Christianity was not obscure, it may be observed 
 that Christ affected no concealment. 
 
 Our Saviour's Advent was preceded by John 
 the Baptist; a man of such remarkable appear- 
 ance, and particularly of such mortified habits, 
 and so conformed to the Jewish notion of rigid 
 piety, as to be exactly adapted to catching the 
 attention and commanding the respect of the Jew- 
 ish people. And it was this man's whole purpose 
 to direct the attention of the Jews to Him who 
 was to come. He professed to be only the pre- 
 cursor of One who was mightier than himself. 
 Whose shoes he was not worthy to bear ; he re- 
 plied in similar language to those who " mused in 
 their hearts whether he were the Christ or not;" 
 
CHRISTIANITY NOT OF OBSCURE ORIGIN. 371 
 
 and when our Saviour appeared in his ministry, he 
 pointed Him out to his disciples, as "the Lamb of 
 God which taketh away the sin of the world." This 
 does not look like preparation for concealment. 
 
 Again, our Saviour began His ministry by per- 
 forming those Miracles upon which He relied for 
 the proof of His Divine mission. Proof of this 
 point was of course necessary, nor did He expect 
 to be believed, but upon the evidence which He 
 presented. " If" said He, "I had not done among 
 them the works which none other man did, they 
 had not had sin." He did not at first state distinctly 
 His character, for reasons which will presently be 
 considered. But He openly unfolded His creden- 
 tials. He performed those mighty works, which 
 every honest-minded man felt to be proof that He 
 was of God. Let the reasoning of the man born 
 blind stand for an example of the natural influ- 
 ence of His mii'acles. " Herein, said he, is a mar- 
 vellous thing, that ye know not whence He is, and 
 yet He hath opened mine eyes." It appeared to 
 him that after such a work, it should not be a 
 matter of doubt who sent Him. 
 
 I have said that Christ performed His Miracles 
 openly. We shall see this by referring to a few 
 examples. 
 
 His first Miracle was the conversion of Water 
 to Wine, at the Marriage feast at Cana. Although 
 performed only in the presence of the servants, it 
 was done under no injunction of secrecy, and was 
 too remarkable an event not to have been very 
 quickly known to all who were present. And_ 
 
372 BERMON XIX. 
 
 especially would the servants be in haste to make 
 it known, when they heard the Master of the feast 
 pronounce that which they had poured as water 
 into the vessels, to be the best wine which had 
 been presented to them. 
 
 Another of His Miracles, and one which was 
 repeated, was His Feeding the Multitudes, who 
 had thronged to hear Him in a desert place, with 
 a small number of barley loaves and fishes. With 
 five such loaves and two fishes, five thousand were 
 fed and filled, and twelve baskets-full of fragments 
 remained. This could not have been a concealed 
 work, nor intended to be such. 
 
 Again, the woman who had long been diseased 
 with an issue of blood was healed, while the mul- 
 titude was thronging Him ; and although it was 
 done silently, by a mere touch of His garment, 
 yet He called the attention of the multitude to it, 
 by stopping and enquiring who had touched Him 
 and received a healing virtue from Him. And 
 after the poor woman had declared " for what 
 cause she had touched Him, and how she was 
 healed immediately," He publicly sanctioned her 
 act and bade her go in peace. 
 
 Again, observe the circumstances under which 
 the "Widow of KTain's son was raised from death. 
 It was " nigh to the gate of the city," and " much 
 people of the city " were with the poor widow, as 
 she followed to the grave her only son. And 
 mark the means He used. !N"one could have been 
 more open and striking. " He touched the bier 
 and they that bare him stood still. And He said, 
 
CHRISTIANITY NOT OF OBSCURE ORIGIN. 373 
 
 " Young man, I say unto thee arise." And now 
 see the openness of the result. " And he that 
 was dead sat up and began to speak." 
 
 Again, observe how perfectly in the face of day 
 was every circumstance attending the raising of 
 Lazarus from the dead. Bethany was about two 
 miles from Jerusalem ; many of the Jews had gone 
 to comfort Martha and Mary concerning their 
 brother. Jesus went there with His disciples, and 
 so openly shewed His emotions, that the Jews 
 remarked it and said, "Behold how He loved 
 him." And He went openly to the grave of the 
 dead man, and He " cried with a loud voice, Laz- 
 arus come forth." And he that had been dead 
 four days came forth before them all. Some saw 
 and believed, and others saw and reported the 
 matter to the Pharisees ; and when these witli the 
 Chief Priests had gathered a council, what do 
 they say ? Do they express astonishment, as if 
 they had heard of Christ and His works for the 
 first time ? ISo : " this man doeth many miracles, 
 if we let Him thus alone, all men will believe on 
 Him." 
 
 I might refer to many other of our Saviour's 
 Miracles, in proof of the same point, but it would 
 consume too much time to go through with the 
 consideration of them all, and enough have been 
 given to illustrate and prove my position. 
 
 It will be observed that I am not here assuming 
 the reality of our Saviour's Miracles, but I speak 
 of the publicity of those works, whatever they were, 
 which were relied upon by Himself for the proof 
 
374 SERMON XIX. 
 
 of His mission, and which were appealed to^ by 
 His Apostles after His death. It was alleged by 
 His enemies, that He deceived the people, and 
 He was accused of performing some of His mighty 
 works through Beelzebub, the prince of the Devils. 
 But it was never pretended by those who lived 
 near His time, that the Histories of His life and 
 actions by the Evangelists were not just, and that 
 the works which were ascribed to Him were 
 fictitious. 
 
 But it may be objected against the frankness of 
 Christ's ministi'y, that although many of His Mir- 
 acles were performed thus openly, yet on some 
 occasions He commanded those in whose favor He 
 performed them not to make Him known, and 
 when He was asked whether He were the Messiah 
 He oftentimes declined a direct reply. The rea- 
 son of this, however, is very evident. Had He 
 declared Himself at once to be the Messiah, many 
 of the Jews would have at once revolted from the 
 Roman power, in expectation that under the Mes- 
 siah they should be free ; and thus He would at 
 once have exposed Himself to the Roman Author- 
 ities as an exciter of rebellion. And then again. 
 His character was so different from the notions 
 which the Jews held in relation to the Messiah, 
 that had He at once declared Himself, the moment 
 they perceived that He had no intention of assum- 
 ing temporal power, they would have rejected 
 Him ; and would have been enraged at His pre- 
 tensions, and would have shut up their minds 
 against any proof He could afterwards have offer- 
 
CHRmriANITY NOT OF OBSCURE ORIGIN. 375 
 
 ed, that He was (as they expressed it) the One that 
 should come. The course which He pursued, then, 
 was the only one, to speak after the manner of" 
 men, by which He could bring Himself fully and 
 fairly, before the public. He unfolded His creden- 
 tials, and after they had been fairly looked at and 
 examined He distinctly declared His Mission. 
 When "His time was come," and He had filled all 
 Gallilee and Judea and Jerusalem with the fame 
 of His mighty works, and had excited the strong 
 expectations of men, and given them a broad 
 foundation for their conclusions. He went up to 
 Jerusalem, and made His entry into that city in 
 solemn procession ; the multitude which accompa- 
 nied Him strewing the way with branches of trees, 
 and even with their garments, and shouting " Ho- 
 sanna to the Son of David : Blessed is He that com- 
 eth in the name of the Lord:" and He entered 
 into the Temple, and cast out those who profaned 
 it by secular business, and He preached and pub- 
 licly reasoned with the Pharisees. The time chos- 
 en for all this was the period of the Passover, 
 when Jerusalem was thronged with Jews from all 
 quarters; the most public occasion that could be 
 selected; and the time when men's minds were 
 most easily excited by any thing which concerned 
 the hopes of their nation. It was at this time that 
 He most publicly declared Himself; at this time 
 that He most publicly proclaimed His doctrine ; 
 reproved the corruptions of Priest and People ; 
 assumed the power of His Office, gave form as it 
 were to His Religion ; died upon the Cross, and 
 "ose again from the dead. 
 
376 8EBM0N XIX. 
 
 Till then, His time, the time to declare Himself, 
 had not come. It was but five days from Palm 
 Sunday to Good Friday, — from the time of His tri- 
 umphal entry into Jerusalem, amid the acclama- 
 tions of the multitude, to His death upon the Cross, 
 amid their taunts and revilings. To have declared 
 Himself sooner, sooner to have to shewn Himself 
 openly to the fickle multitude, as their long 
 desired Messiah, would have been to have precip- 
 itated the end before He had accomplished the 
 mighty works, which were the proofs of His high 
 mission. 
 
 Truly, this thing was not done in a corner. 
 Truly, it can never be said that Christianity was 
 begun in obscurity, and worked its insidious way 
 in darkness. Its beginning was open, its evidences 
 were open, and well do they sustain the appeal of 
 the Apostle. 
 
 And as it did not commence, so was it not per- 
 mitted by either its friends or its enemies to re- 
 main in obscurity. The ages preceding its appear- 
 ance were learned, and full of speculation and 
 change. Its own age was as far as possible from 
 priest-ridden, for the old Heathen Theology had 
 grown efiete, and scarcely commanded the respect 
 of any but the most ignorant; and unbelief was — 
 through the foolish ambition of many of the Jews 
 to be held in esteem by their Pagan masters, and to 
 shine at the Pagan games — rife among the chosen 
 people of God ; and the high places in the Temple 
 and the Sanhedrim were filled with Sadducees. 
 The first preachers of the Gospel were so active in 
 
CHRISTIANITY NOT OF OBSCURE ORIGIN. 377 
 
 propagating the faith, that in a short time every 
 Province in the w^ide-spread empire of Rome 
 abounded with Christians ; and Prsetors and Pro- 
 curators were alarmed at finding the public altars 
 abandoned, and public revenues abridged; and 
 the Schools of Philosophy were aroused against the 
 new doctrines, — ^which, although they agreed with 
 the Philosophers in rejecting the popular follies, 
 branded them witlf a deeper folly, inasmuch as 
 the supercilious contempt of Religion is worse 
 than the most stupid superstition. In less than 
 three centuries, Rome became Christian. And 
 when the Empire fell for a short time into the 
 hands of the apostate Julian, " it grieved him," 
 says a learned writer, "to see the Christian faith 
 so largely spread, so firmly rooted, and so many 
 books written either in defence or explication of 
 it; and to counteract it, he bent all the energies 
 of Imperial authority, and all the resources of a 
 subtle wit. lie encouraged the Sophists and Phi- 
 losophers, and Orators, and filled all Schools and 
 Colleges, all courts and corners, with lectures, in- 
 vectives and declamations against the Christians." 
 Was Christianity obscure, then, in the first ages ? 
 N"or has it since been obscure; nor is it now 
 obscure. It has never been a light hidden under 
 a bushel ; though it always has been possible, and 
 is now possible, for men to turn away their eyes 
 from seeing, and to shut their minds from believ- 
 ing and obeying it. The proofs of Christianity 
 are not, nor w^re they designed to be, of such a 
 nature as to force themselves upon any man ; they 
 
378 8EBM0N XIX. 
 
 are addressed to him as a reasonable being, and 
 therefore one capable of argument; they are 
 addressed to him as a moral being, and therefore 
 one who is left to make his own choice. 
 
 The things which were done by Christ at His 
 first Advent, were not done in a corner; and it 
 will be well for us to remember that those which 
 will be done at His second Advent, will not be 
 done in a corner. He will then come, not to 
 solicit men to hear Him and live, but to judge 
 them ; not in humility, but in glorious majesty. 
 He will then gather together all nations ; and in 
 the face of all, condemn His enemies, who would 
 not have Him to reign over them, to the everlast- 
 ing reign of darkness and despair. 
 
 May God give us grace to open our eyes to the 
 light which He has sent us, and not only to believe 
 but heartily to obey His message of mercy and 
 salvation ; " that at His second coming, we may 
 be found an acceptable people in His sight." 
 
SERMON XX. 
 
 CHRISTIANITY NOT OF OBSCURE ORIGIN. 
 
 ( OOHCLUDED.) 
 
 Acts xxvi. 26. "For this thing was not done 
 
 IN A CORNER." 
 
 In my former Sermon upon this text, I shewed 
 from the situation of Judea in the time of our 
 Saviour, that any thing which was calculated, as 
 our Saviour's preaching and miracles surely were, 
 to gain public attention, could not be hidden even 
 from the Masters of the world, and of course not 
 from the highest philosophy and civilization of that 
 age. And I shewed farther, that there was no at- 
 tempt at concealment on the part of our Saviour, 
 but so far from it, that even His sometimes refusing 
 to be publicly known,was in order to bring His pre- 
 tensions the more fully and deliberately before the 
 Jewish nation and the World. These facts, taken 
 in connection with another which I have incident- 
 ally illustrated, — namely that our Saviour's preten- 
 sions and His works were not of a nature to admit 
 concealment, in such a community and at such a 
 time as that at which He appeared, — shew most 
 perfectly, that "this thing," in the Apostle's lan- 
 guage, "was not done in a corner;" that the 
 
380 SERMON XX. 
 
 Origin of Christianity was perfectly open to obserr 
 vation and investigation. 
 
 Let us go on with the argument ; in the first 
 place, let me remark 
 
 I. That the pretensions of Christ, and the 
 proofs He oftered in their support, were most easy 
 to have been refuted had they been false. 
 
 There were two kinds of proof of a special 
 character, upon which the claims of our Saviour 
 to the Messiahship rested ; namely Prophecy and 
 Miracles. 
 
 Now the Prophecies to which Christ appealed for 
 .the proof of His mission, were in the hands of the 
 Jev/^s, and they were able to compare His charac- 
 ter and pretensions with what they found foretold 
 concerning the Messiah ; and if the Prophecies 
 were not fulfilled in Him, the rejection of His 
 claims would have been prompt and final. The 
 argument from Prophecy was a dangerous one 
 to the appeals of an Impostor. Prophecy is in 
 almost all places obscure ; and so it must be, lest 
 it should be supposed, by directing men what to 
 do, to work its own fulfilment. The Prophecies 
 relating to the Messiah were of this character, and 
 many pretenders to the Messiahship oftered them- 
 selves to the public, and assumed, as far as they 
 could make it out, the character which they 
 thought the Messiah should possess. One called 
 himself Barchochebas, or the Son of a Star, be- 
 cause it had been said in allusion to the coming of 
 this great Deliverer, that " a Star shall come out 
 
CHRISTIANITY NOT OF OBSCURE ORIGIN. 381 
 
 of Jacob." Aud they all assumed the character of 
 deliverers of the Jewish nation ; for a Deliverer 
 the Messiah was to be, and the founder of a King- 
 dom; and the whole Ifation was possessed with 
 the notion that it was from the Roman power that 
 they were to be delivered, aud that the new King- 
 dom implied their own advancement to Empire. 
 The misapprehensions of the Jews were likely to 
 put mere pretenders upon the wrong track, and so 
 to make the accommodation of their characters 
 to Prophecy the more difficult. 
 
 And again, their object being personal aggran- 
 dizement, and therefore present success, they would 
 of course not attempt to be wiser than the ligation,, 
 but rather avail themselves of their prejudices 
 and conform to them. You see, then, how diffi- 
 cult a part a pretender would have to act. Assum- 
 ing to be a deliverer, he must yet ( to fulfil the 
 Prophecy,) " neither strive nor cry, nor suffer his 
 voice to be heard in the streets;" pretending to 
 lead the people to conquest, to liberty and empire, 
 he is yet to be " oppressed and afflicted, a man of 
 sorrows and acquainted with grief," and even to 
 be " despised and rejected of men." The charac- 
 ter which the Prophets gave of the Messiah, is in 
 many points directly opposed to the notions which 
 the Jews, irritated by their long subjection to de- 
 spised Gentiles, loved to entertain; and directly 
 opposed to the ambitious hopes of every pretender 
 to the dignity of that office. How then could an 
 impostor manage the matter, so as to have his pre- 
 tensions abide the trial? Temporary success he 
 
382 BEBMON XX. 
 
 might easily obtain, but permanent he could not. 
 His false pretensions must give way upon trial, 
 and yield to newer pretensions, equally false, but 
 a little better contrived; and thus one impostor 
 turns away public attention from his predecessor, 
 and shewing some predicted characteristic which 
 the other wanted, refutes him, and gives tempo- 
 rary reputation to himself. But when the Proph- 
 ecy is well known, and a person stands forth and 
 says publicly, " it is fulfilled in me ;" if the public 
 attention is turned to the matter and the Prophecy 
 is so circumstantial, as clearly to establish the in- 
 dividuality of its object, it is impossible that an 
 impostor should not sooner or later be detected, 
 and that clearly and peremptorily. 
 
 The claims of our Saviour to the Messiahship 
 have now been before the world for eighteen hun- 
 dred years, and they have again and again been 
 compared witli Prophecy, not only by His friends, 
 but by His enemies, and every new examination 
 has established their exact agreement with more 
 certainty. The clearing up of every obscurity 
 has been the discovei'y of new proof; and thus the 
 very successive developments of the meaning of 
 Prophecy is in itself a strong and independent 
 proof, as it shews that an exact conformity with 
 Prophecy was a thing not to have been contrived 
 by an impostor. 
 
 I have said that if Prophecy be so minute as 
 clearly to establish the individuality of its object, 
 it is impossible that the impostor whose preten- 
 sions are grounded upon it, should remain long 
 
CHBISTIANITY NOT OF OBSCURE ORIGIN. 38S 
 
 undetected, however prejudice or parties may give ■ 
 him temporary success. This minuteness exists 
 remarkably iu the Pi-ophecies of the Messiah. 
 
 1. The piaee of his birth is exactly pointed out, 
 and this is a circumstance which would bear to be 
 named because it is one over which men can have 
 no command. "But thou, Bethlehem Ephrata," 
 says the prophet Micah, "though thou be little 
 among the thousands of Judah, yet out of thee 
 shall He come forth that is to be ruler in Israel, 
 whose goings forth have been from of old, from 
 everlasting." 
 
 2. The time of the coming of Messiah is pointed 
 out by Daniel, with just that mixture of exactness 
 and obscurity, which is most favorable to a satis- 
 factory inference after the event, and when the 
 proof for it is wanted. " Know therefore and 
 understand," says he, " that from the going forth 
 of the commandment to restore and build Jerusa- 
 lem unto Messiah the Prince, shall be seven weeks 
 and threescore and two weeks." 
 
 3. Again His character is pointed out with great 
 minuteness, and yet with that appearance of par- 
 adox wliich must have been peculiarly perplexing 
 to a pretender. He was to be a Conqueror, — a 
 setter-up of a Kingdom, — the deliverer of His 
 people, — and yet He was to exhibit "no beauty," 
 — nothing attractive to worldly men, that they 
 should " desire Him." His meekness is distinctly 
 alluded to — " He shall not strive nor cry;" " as a 
 sheep before her shearers is dumb, so He opened 
 not his mouth;" and this, as if in marked repro- 
 
384 8EBM0N XX. 
 
 bation aud for the clearer detection, of such as 
 should ambitiously claim the Messiahship. 
 
 4. Many events of His life, are also clearly fore- 
 told. He was to be, in the language of Isaiah, 
 "despised and rejected of men ;" and observe how 
 completely this was fulfilled in Christ, and how 
 impossible that an impostor should aim at the ful- 
 filment of this in his own person, since his very 
 purpose would be to gain immediate reputation 
 and power. Again, He was to be "wounded for 
 oar transgressions," — recollect the soldier's spear. 
 Again, He was to be " bruised," — " to suffer chas- 
 tisements," — and " by His stripes," it is said "we 
 were to be healed;"— compare this with the ac- 
 count of the Evangelist, " Then they did spit in 
 His face, and buffet Him, and others smote Him 
 with the palms of their hands." Again, " He 
 shall be taken from prison and from judgment, 
 and loho shall declare His generation." Refer again 
 to the Evangelist, " Then the disciples all forsook 
 Him and fled." Again, His behavior before His 
 judges is clearly marked in the Prophets, "and as 
 a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so He opened 
 not His mouth." ISTow hear the Evangelist, 
 " And the High Priest said, answerest Thou noth- 
 ing? But Jesus held His peace." Again, "He 
 made," saith the Prophet, "His grave with the 
 wicked, and with the rich in His death." How 
 briefly and enigmatically and yet distinctly are 
 two remarkable circumstances pointed out ; " He 
 was crucifled between two thieves," — these were 
 the wicked ; " Joseph of Aramathea begged the 
 
CHRISTIANITY NOT OF OBSCURE ORIGIN. 385 
 
 body of Jesus and placed It in his own new tomb," 
 — he was "the rich." 
 
 In alluding to these events, I have also alluded 
 to that fulfilment of them in Christ, in order that 
 the minuteness and particularity might be made 
 more obvious. 
 
 I think I may safely say, that if these observa- 
 tions, imperfectly as they present this subject, ]>e 
 well weighed, it will not be denied that our Sav- 
 iour's claims to the character He assumed, so far 
 as they rested upon Prophecy, might have been 
 easily refuted had they been false. And if so, the 
 fact that His claims have now been before the 
 world for eighteen-hundred years, and still unre- 
 futed, — notwithstanding the learning and the 
 subtlety and the determined hostility of infidels, 
 of Christian and Jewish or Pagan origin, — is a 
 most unanswerable proof that His claims were 
 just 
 
 And mark another fact ; Christ is ,the only One 
 in whom any do now or have for ages professed 
 to find the Messiah ; and the Jews, who have for 
 centuries looked for this personage, as emphati- 
 cally the hope of their nation, and have clung to 
 the expectation through all their trials and their 
 persecutions, as a drowning sailor clings to the 
 plank or a broken oar, have been able to fix upon 
 no other; and determined not to embrace Christ 
 as their deliverer, and convinced that the time of 
 His advent has long gone by, they are now falling 
 into unbelief and a neglect of all religion. Behold 
 in this, the impossibility of maintaining from 
 
386 SERMON XX. 
 
 Prophecy the claims of any other Messiah than 
 Him whom Christians have received as a spiritual 
 deliverer, the founder of a spiritual Kingdom, — 
 which bids fair if we look at its history and its 
 prospects, to vindicate the Prophet's prediction, 
 that it shall be an everlasting Kingdom. 
 
 11, The other kind of proof to which our Saviour 
 appealed for proof of His pretensions, is that of 
 Miracles: And it can easily be made to appear 
 that they were so performed, and of such a nature, 
 that if His pretensions were false the falsehood 
 was perfectly open to detection. 
 
 1. In my former sermon, I alluded to several 
 of Christ's miracles, to shew that they were per- 
 formed publicly, and thus shewed, that so far as 
 the matter of publicity goes, they were open to 
 detection. 
 
 2. A brief allusion to some of His Miracles 
 will shew also, that they were of such a nature as 
 to have been susceptible of satisfactory examina- 
 tion. They were plain cases; not cases which 
 could be accounted for by the influence of the im- 
 agination, — ^not the moving of the eyes in a wood- 
 en image, which might . be accounted for more 
 easily still. He raised Lazarus from the sepul- 
 chre in which he had lain dead four days; and 
 this in the presence of the Jews, who had come 
 from the neighboring city to comfort the sorrow- 
 ing sisters of the dead man. 
 
 He raised the dead son of the widow of N'ain, 
 in the pa-esence of all those who had probably 
 
CSmSTIANITT NOT OF OBSCUBE ORIGIN. 387 
 
 witnessed his death and arrayed Ms body for the 
 burial. It is worthy of remark, that in regard to 
 both these persons, Christ was not present at 
 their death. The evidence of their death was in 
 the hands of others, — and it was not till after they 
 had pronounced them dead, after one had been 
 for a considerable time in his grave, and when 
 they were proceeding to inter the other, that He 
 interposed and gave them both back to the posses- 
 sion of their friends. How would an impostor 
 make out with such cases as these ? 
 
 Take again the cases of Leprosy cured by our 
 Saviour. Consider the circumstances of the cure, 
 the nature of the disease, — and see if you can 
 make out any distinct explanation of them, with- 
 out admitting their reality as miracles. 
 
 Take again the cases of inveterate and well- 
 known blindness, and lameness, and deafness, 
 cured by our Saviour; and see if these will, like 
 the cures of modern pretenders to miraculous 
 powers, admit of explanations upon any well-es- 
 tablished and well-known principle. They were 
 not cases got up for the sake of the cure, but of 
 long standing, and well known to the people. 
 The Blind man, whose instructive story you will 
 find in the ninth chapter of St. John's Gospel, was 
 blind from his birth; and it appears from the nar- 
 rative, that his blindness was not of a doubtful 
 character, his parents and his neighbors well knew 
 it, and testified it ; and the means used were not 
 such as would be used in reference to their own 
 natural efficiency. Anointing the eyes wdth clay 
 
388 SEBMON XX. 
 
 would hardly be regarded as good practice by a 
 mere physician. 
 
 Take again the case of the Impotent man who 
 had labored under his infirmity thirty-eight years, 
 and who was made whole, by the simple' command 
 of Christ to take up his bed and walk. This 
 miracle was performed at the pool of Bethesda 
 in Jerusalem, — at the time of a public festival — 
 and in the midst of a multitude of impotent folk. 
 The disease commenced before our Saviour's birth, 
 and it was of too long standing to admit of instan- 
 taneous cure at the command of a man with whose 
 character and pretensions the invalid appeared tO' 
 be unacquainted. He spoke to Christ, as if he had 
 no suspicion that He was more than an ordinary 
 man, whose compassion was excited by his suffer- 
 ing condition. He shews no preparation of mind 
 to be affected by the command of Christ through 
 his imagination; and exhibits no expectation of 
 help, but from the chance that he might possibly 
 one day get first into the pool after the troubling 
 of the water. 
 
 I must here dismiss this part of my subject, 
 with desiring you to compare the Miracles of our 
 Saviour and His Disciples with those of modern 
 pretenders; to examine them rigorously by the 
 laws of evidence, apply any established principle 
 of philosophy to the explanation of them ; and 
 you will be convinced that they were well known 
 and of a character to be perfectly open to investi- 
 gation, and to repel all suspicion of trick or arti- 
 fice; and that therefore if they had been false, 
 their detection was a matter of certainty. 
 
CHRISTIANITY NOT OF OBSCURE ORIOIN. 389 
 
 III. But it may be alleged, that the proofs 
 which our Saviour offered in support of His pre- 
 tensions, were not examined carefully at that time; 
 because public attention was not sufficiently called 
 to them and they were not perceived to have that 
 relation to His pretensions, which was afterwards 
 claimed : And that in afteriimes, when they were looked 
 into, many circumstances were forgotten; and the 
 examination could not be made in a very satisfac- 
 tory way. But though this may easily be said, it 
 is wholly groundless. 
 
 1. Our Saviour claimed to be a King, and 
 although His Kingdom being spiritual would not 
 interfere with the Roman government, yet the 
 Romans had not the most distant apprehensions 
 of any other Monarchy than an earthly one ; they 
 did not understand the nature of a Kingship which 
 might exist in their own dominions, and yet not 
 interfere with the rights of Caesar. Such a claim 
 then could not be made without exciting at once 
 the jealousy and attention of the Roman authori- 
 ties. We see how readily Herod's' jealousy was 
 awakened when it was proclaimed that One was 
 born King of the Jews. The Jews iinderstood 
 this jealousy of the Roman government on the 
 same point, and they endeavored to embroil our 
 Saviour with the Roman authorities on this 
 ground ; as when they asked Him whether it were 
 lawful to pay tribute to Caesar. The claims of our 
 Saviour, then, were of a nature to excite the attention 
 of the Roman authorities; and I have abundantly 
 shown before, that they were calculated to excite 
 that of the Jews. 
 
390 SERMON XX. 
 
 2. And, further, it must have been seen and 
 known upon what proofs our Saviour grounded 
 His pretensions ; for He explicitly stated the matter 
 in His public preaching. Of Prophecy He says, 
 " Search the Scriptures, for in them ye think ye 
 have eternal life, and they are they that testify 
 OF ME." Here w^as a direct appeal to this kind of 
 proof. And immediately after His death His 
 Apostles made the same appeal to it, and with 
 explicitness; and declared the event to which they 
 M-^ere then calling the attention of the Jews, to be 
 the fulfilment of those things which God had 
 before shown by the mouth of all His Prophets. 
 
 And so of the Miracles of our Saviour. He 
 openly cited them as proofs of His pretensions. 
 " If I had not done among them," said He, " the 
 works which none other man did, they had not 
 had sin." And again, " If ye believe not me, 
 believe the works," that is, the Miracles that I do. 
 And His Disciples did the same, and went so far 
 as to say clearly, that Miracles were the " signs of 
 an Apostle." 
 
 3. But again, the nature of the proof was 
 understood. Observe that an appeal was actually 
 made hy the Pharisees to prophecy in refutation of 
 Christ's claims. "Look and see," said one of them, 
 who had examined the subject with just about the 
 same degree of accuracy as modern objectors 
 exhibit, " Look and see, for out of Galilee ariseth 
 no Prophet." Had Christ been a native of Gali- 
 lee, the objection had been fatal. 
 
 And observe again, they endeavored to evade the 
 
CHRISTIANITY NOT OF OBSCURE ORIGIN. 391 
 
 force of the appeal to Miracles. At one time they 
 assayed this, by ascribing His power to perform 
 them to a connection with Beelzebub, the Prince 
 of the devils. At another time, the Chief Priests 
 and Pharisees projected the seizure of Christ in 
 order to prevent their effect upon the minds of 
 the people. " What do we ?" said they, " for this 
 man doeth raany miracles, and if we let Him alone, 
 all men will believe on Him." 
 
 Again, hear from the very mouths of the Jewish 
 people the common apprehension on this subject : 
 "And many of the people believed on Him." 
 Why ? Here was their argument, " When Christ 
 cometh will He do more miracles, than these 
 which this man hath done ? " 
 
 I might easily carry the examinatioii of this 
 point farther, but I believe it is clear enough, that 
 there was nothing wanting to induce the inhabit- 
 ants of Judea, in the time of Christ, to scrutinize 
 His claims; and that it cannot be pleaded that 
 at the very time, when He was advancing them, 
 the gist of the argument in their favor was not 
 understood. 
 
 rV". Another objection may here meet us. It 
 may be said, if the Miracles of Christ were wrought 
 so publicly, and were undeniably genuine, and if 
 Prophecy was pointedly in His favor, and the 
 whole argument was so fairly and fully before His 
 cotemporariee, — why did they not all believe on Him ? 
 
 He who has duly considered the influence of 
 prejudice, of the pride of opinion, and of interest, 
 
392 SERMON XX. 
 
 in biasing the judgment of men and fortifying 
 their minds against all the assaults of reason and 
 argument, would never advance an objection of 
 this kind. Truth, be its evidence ever so clear, 
 if it be wholly new, and especially if it be opposed 
 to former opinions, and opinions which are cher- 
 ished and reverenced, never meets with a ready 
 reception. It was long after the publication of 
 the ISTewtonian doctrine of gravitation before it 
 was received, even into the Schools of learning 
 in that country which now glories in him ; although 
 it was sent forth into the world with that very 
 evidence,which has since set refutation at defiance. 
 No case has ever occurred, in which so much 
 prejudice, and so many interests, and so many 
 evil passions, and so much power, have been 
 enlisted against the truth, as opposed the reception 
 of our Saviour and His spiritual and humbling 
 doctrines. And had He gone to the Jews in the 
 very guise in which He appeared to the prophet 
 Daniel, — "clothed in linen, and girded with the 
 fine gold of Uphaz, His face having the appearance 
 of lightning, and His eyes as lamps, and His arms 
 and His feet like in color to polished brass," — and 
 had He preached the same doctrines, and disap- 
 pointed in the same way their hopes of a temporal 
 Kingdom, and rebuked their proud reliance upon 
 their being the children of Abraham, — He would 
 not have gained their hearty assent ; and as soon 
 as He ceased to be present with them, their old 
 prejudices would ha\e returned, and the Nation 
 would have been, just as it is now, involved in 
 unbelief. 
 
CHRISTIANITY NOT OF OBSCURE ORIGIN. 393 
 
 It is plainly to no purpose, to ask why all did 
 not believe ; this was just what was to have been 
 expected. But it is very much to our purpose to 
 ask, Why, if lEs divine mission was not clearly proved, 
 did any believe? We all know, from Heathen as 
 well as from Scriptural testimony, that the fol- 
 lowers of Christ were exposed to suffering, and 
 dangers, and. death. In the language of the Apos- 
 tle, " if in this life only they had hope," — and 
 certainly if their faith in Christ were without just 
 ground it could give them no good hope for the 
 future, — " they were of all men most miserable." 
 Some believed in Christ who dared not confess 
 Him, and they would have given anything — so far 
 as their temporal interest was concerned — ^if they 
 could have resisted this belief. There were many 
 things to prevent even the best evidence from 
 convincing multitudes ; but there was nothing 
 but the best, the most indubitable evidence, which 
 could have convinced, and sustained in their con- 
 viction, — through labors and dangers and suffer- 
 ings, through disappointment of cherished hopes, 
 against the persuasions of friends, and the argu- 
 ments of philosophers, and the efforts of authority, 
 — the great and continually increasing number of 
 the followers of Christ. 
 
 V. If these things are so ; — ^if the doctrine of 
 Christ was first preached openly, and the proofs 
 upon which He rested His aifthority were exhib- 
 ited openly, before the rulers and wise men of the 
 world, and especially before the people, who would 
 
394 SERMON XX. 
 
 be most likely to understand their nature and to 
 give them an unsparing investigation; — ^if these 
 proofs were of such a nature that their validity 
 could be most unerringly ascertained ; — and if 
 they wrought conviction in the minds of multi- 
 tudes, against the persuasions of interest and affec- 
 tion, and the allurements of ease and of worldly 
 distinction, and even under the certain prospect 
 of dangers and sufferings ; — can we doubt whether 
 they were founded in truth ? 
 
 But it may be said, that if these things were 
 so, they were indeed good proof to the people who 
 witnessed them, but not to us. And why not to 
 lis ? All history teaches us that Christianity had 
 its origin at the time assigned to it in the Sacred 
 writings. The very books which now compose 
 the Ifew Testament, were written, and read, and 
 received, as the true records of our Saviour's life 
 and works and doctrine, at that time ; as is clearly 
 proved by innumerable quotations from them by 
 hundreds of ancient writers, by the references 
 made to these very books by the earliest adversa^ 
 ries of Christianity, and by the absence of any oth- 
 er Historical account of the rise of that Religion 
 which has spread, amid obstacles from its enemies 
 and its professed friends, till it has become the 
 Religion of the whole civilized world. The Books 
 we have, then, undeniably relate to us those very 
 facts — and the mode of their occurrence — to which 
 the Apostle so efflctively appealed to Agrippa; 
 for that a false account of them should have been 
 received in the age in which they occurred, and 
 
CHRISTIANITY NOT OF OBSCURE ORIGIN. 395 
 
 that, both by those who endeavored to establish 
 and those who strived to refute them, is impossible. 
 
 But this is not all. Our Age is connected with 
 that of our Saviour by the Church, His spiritual 
 Kingdom which He instituted, and which has been 
 a witness to Him, and a keeper of Holy Writ from 
 that time to this. In that Church the same Holy 
 Scriptures have been publicly and* continuously 
 read, — the same Sacraments, in which are — as it 
 were — embodied the pi'inciples 'of Christ's relig- 
 ion, continuously celebrated, — the same Creed 
 continuously taught to His disciples, and recited 
 in the worship of the Church, — the same Holy 
 Days, commemorative of the great actions and 
 events of His life, continuously observed. What 
 is there in all History to connect the present with 
 an Age long gone by, like the Church, its institu- 
 tions, and its observances ? One might imagine 
 the history of Rome to be a dream, till he should 
 go and stand among its ruined Monuments ; and 
 then he must , be convinced that some great State 
 like Rome had been. But what are dead to liv- 
 ing witnesses ! 
 
 That the origin and the proofs of Christianity 
 were as open and as undisguised as the light of 
 day, is undeniable. Christianity has survived the 
 scrutiny, to which we know it was subjected soon 
 after its beginning, and has been a thousand times 
 since. Objections to Christianity are not modern 
 inventions. Acute and learned men labored hard 
 to subvert its foundations when it was yet in its 
 beginnings, and when a valid objection could not 
 
396 8EBM0N XX. 
 
 have failed of its full force. Christianity, com- 
 mencing as it did, — without appealing to any of 
 the prejudices of the age ; offending the Jews by 
 breaking down the partition which shut out the 
 Gentiles from the enjoyment of their privileges; 
 and enraging the Gentiles by its uncompromising 
 hostility to every idol and : every impious rite, — • 
 could not haye existed ; — :mueh more could it not 
 have come down to our days with constantly in- 
 creasing power and efficacy ; if it had not been 
 established in everlasting truth, and sustained by 
 an Almighty power. 
 
 Christianity has stood. The gates of Hell have 
 not been able to prevail against the Church. 
 Foes without have not interrupted her testimony, 
 , they have only made it more clear and determin- 
 ed; and more dangerous foes within have done 
 no more than obscure it. 
 
 And now, my Brethren, since these things are 
 so, and the proofs of Christianity are so open, so 
 imimpeached, and so unimpeachable, — yo\x can 
 have no excuse for being, with Agrippa, only 
 almost persuaded to be Christians. Excuses you 
 can easily invent, if you will not believe. The 
 evidences of the Gospel are of such a nature that 
 there is no escape from conviction, if they are 
 fairly examined, and allowed to exert their proper 
 influence upon the mind; but they do not compel 
 attention nor conviction ; they cannot impart their 
 own fairness and honesty to perverse minds, nor 
 force an entrance into minds shut up and barred, 
 by prejudice and by hatred, to its hximbling and 
 
CMBISTIANITY NOT OF 0B8CUBE ORIGIN. 397 
 
 «elf-denying doctrines. God has taken from you 
 all valid excuse for unbelief, but He has left you 
 to your own choice, whether to believe and live, 
 or to fall into the condemnation of unbelief. But 
 observe further, it is not only necessary to be 
 more than almost persuaded, but it is necessary 
 to be persuaded to be more than almost a Chris- 
 tian. Merely to assent to Christianity as a thing 
 true, will avail nothing. The truth of Christianity 
 implies, or rather consists, in the truth of its Facts 
 and of its Doctrines, the authority of its Precepts, 
 the validity of its Institutions. It cannot be sat- 
 isfied with a mere admission of it, as a demon- 
 strated theorem. JS'o more can it be satisfied with 
 a reception of its Records, as a book from which 
 we are to work up our systems of faith after our 
 own fashion. Christ did not come merely to 
 exhibit a new Philosophy, to set forth new propo- 
 sitions in Morals, or in the Natural History of 
 man, — ^but to set up a Kingdom. "We must be- 
 come the subjects of His Kingdom, and obedient 
 subjects; or we resist that authority which He 
 claims over us." We must become members of 
 His Church, — faithful members; — faithful in our 
 adherence to the Faith which was once delivered 
 to the saints ; faithful in walking in all the Com- 
 mandments and Ordinances of the Lord ; faithful 
 in holy living ; in the practice of daily piety ; in 
 self-denial; in the subjecting our passions, and in 
 Dringing every thought into captivity to the obe- 
 dience of Christ. 
 
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