5-10^ ■ frwTm?^>^ "S E R M O N S,v^ JAMES FINLAYSON, D.D. F.R.S.E. ONE OF THE MINISTERS OF THE HIGH CHURCH, AND PROFESSOR OF LOGIC AND METAPHYSICS IN THE UNIVERSITY OF EDINBURGH. TO WHICH IS PREFIXED J(iV ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE AND CHARACTER OF THE AUTHOR. SECOND EDITION. EDINBURGH : PRINTED FOR PETEIi HILL, PRINTER TO THE CHURCH OF SCOTLAND ; AND LONGMAN, HUr.ST, REES, AND ORME, LONDON- 1809. ^ C. STEWART, PRINTER, EDINBURGH. CONTENTS. SERMON I. 2 Corinthians, i. 21. It pleased God, by the foolishness of preaching, to save them that be- lieve Page 1 SERMON 11. John, viii. 31, 32. Theii said Jesus to those Jeivs which believed on him : If ye continue in my xvord, then are ye my disciples indeed : and ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free 30 SERMON III. The same subject continued 44 SERMON IV. Matthew, xxviii. 17. And when they saxv him, they worshipped him, but some doubted- • • • 6\ vi C O N T E N T S. SERMON V. The same subject OAitinued- • • • ••■•••• 83 SERMON VI. Hebrews, xti. 3. Consider him that e7idured the contradiction of sinners against himself y lest i)e he wearied andjaint inijour minds. 1 14 SERMON VII. rvlATiiiEw, IV. 1 — 11. Then was Jesus led up oj the spirit iuto the wilderness, to be tempted of the deiil. ^x. <^'C. 133 SERMON VIII. The same subject continued 1 jO SERMON IX. LuKi, XIX. 28. — 36. And it came to pass, about an eight dai/s after these sayings, he took Peter, and John, and James, andzvent up into a moun- tain taprai/, S^-c. l^x: 1 69 SERMON X. P.sAi.iM cxix. y6. 77/j/ commandment is e.vceed- ing broad. 192 SERISION XI. Matihi w, xi. ::;0. liy yoke is easy, and my burden ir, H^ht 211 CONTFXT^ vi SERMON XII. James, r. 8. A dcublc mh d. d man i. "' hi all his wai/s. ■ - SERMON Xlii. Luke, xxi. Ip- I/i 2/c2 in 1782, returned to the duties of a pre- ceptor, by taking charge of two sons of Sir William Murray of Ochtertyre, ba- ronet. In this intelligent gentleman he b 3 foun xlv THE LIFE OF found a patron and friend, who, by his penetration, was enabled to gppretiate, and, by his taste, to enjoy the pecuhar vahie of Mr Finlayson, as a domestic companion. Sir WilHam had a turn and capacity for speculation, particularly on subjects of pohtical economy, which he derived much satisfaction from discussing with the young philosopher. In such dis- cussions, the latter could not fail to distin- guish himself by his acute and discriminat- ing understanding, the fulness and ar- i-angement of his information, the clearness and comprehension of his ideas, the tena- cious minuteness of his memory, the logical strength of his judgment, and the concise- ness and perspicuity of his expression. His natural good sense too supplied that pro- priety of manner, which, in most cases, is only to be acquired by early and habitual intercourse with superiors ; and which prevented him equally from obtruding, or, when it was obviously invited, from with- holding his conversation. Such invitations are too often abused, by the injudicious va- nity of rustic genius, which is apt, v/hen flattered by encouragement, to transgress tlie DR FINLAYgON. xr the limits, that more judgment or expe- rience would perceive to be imphed in the invitation ; and the great are frequently compelled to deny themselves the pleasure, which they would take in its display, from a fear of its forgetting those rules, by a breach of which their gratification would be too dearly purchased. But with Mr Finlayson they were perfectly secure ; as no man was ever more absolutely free from inconsiderate conceit ; or more delicately and intuitively alive to a sense of what was respectively due to others and to himself; qualities which, with his discerning supe- riors, must have given double value to his society. Possessing few exterior graces of manner and address, he shewed his wisdom by making no pretensions to them ; and by contenting himself with that negative plainness and propriety of behaviour, which seldom captivated, and never offended. Simplicity was the leading characteristic of his deportment ; for as he had nothing, on the other hand, of fashionable elegance or professional pomp, he was equally distant, on the other from the aukwardness of pe- dantry and the coarseness of vulgarity, b 4 Tiiere xTi THE LIFE OF There is reason to believe that his merits wercj in every respect, justly estimated by the worthy baronet, with whom it was now his good fortune to be connected ; and that this connection was gradually im- proved into a warm and mutual personal regard ; leading, on one side, to ^ zealous desire for the comfort and success of its ob- ject, and, on the other, to a manly and res- pectful gratitude. With the family of Sir William Murray, Mr Finlayson removed to Edinburgh, and there had the advantage of renewing his studies at the University, and an opportuni- ty of comparing its institutions and plan of instruction with those under which he had been originally educated. In 1785 he re- ceived a license to preach, which, in Scot- land, confers a title to perform a certain portion of the clerical duties without ordi- nation. The earliest of his appearances in the pulpit were such as might be expected from his previous diligence. The compo- sition of his sermons gave evidence of the maturity and manliness of his understand- ing. They exhibited no juvenile splendour of DR. FINLAYSOX. xni of language, no straining for original or un- expected remarks; no ambition of refin- ed or recondite ingenuity. The subjects were judiciously chosen ; and the most in- structive and intelligible treatment of them preferred. His reasoning was cogent and correct ; his illustrations rational and just ; and his style, which neither courted nor re- jected ornament, was classically pure and appropriate. His manner was still less flo- rid than his diction. He carried to the pul- pit the same unpretending simplicity, with which he appeared in society ; and from his care to avoid affectation, and all rheto- rical attempts of doubtful success, he might, to the undiscerning, have some appearance of coldness. But by those who fdh such an interest in the matter, as was due to its ex- cellence, no defect of energy or animation in the manner was observable. If it had no artificial decoration, it had no offensive meanness. As a preacher Dr Finlayson was very nearly what Cowper describes in the following lines : Simple, grare, sincere | In dortrine uncorrupt ; in langn.ige plain ; And plain in manner. Decent, folcinn, chaste^ And natural in gesture. The THE LIFE OF The excellence of his sermons soon point- ed him out, as one of the rising hopes of his profession ; and was probably the motive of the late Dr Hardy, when laid aside, for some months, by indisposition, to intrust hina with the performance of hispublic duty, in the High Church of Edinburgh. He thus became the temporary colleague of Dr Blair, and obtained an early introduction to the favour of that respectable audience, with w^hom he was afterwards to enjoy a more intimate and durable connection, and to whom the first as well as the last of his pastoral exertions was devoted. In summer 1785 Dr Finlayson received an offer of the living of Dunkeld, which, as he had no prospect, and therefore no ambition, beyond the situation of a country clergyman, he was disposed to accept. But on communicating his intention to Sir WilHam Murray, he was induced to relinquish it, by the information that an arrangement was proposed, for procuring him the professorship of logic in the Uni- versity of Edinburgh. As this office was most happily adap ted to the peculiar quali- fications of Mr Finlayson, he looked to- w^ards DR FINLAYSON. xix wards it with an eagerness and ambition to which he had hitherto been a stranger ; and during the negotiation, which did not proceed so smoothly as had been expected, felt his quiet impaired, by the anxiety of suspense, and by a conflict between the keenness of his anticipations, and the correction of his understanding. This state of mind he described, in a series of letters to his present 'biographer, during the sum- mer of 1786, when the failure of his hopes appeared so probable, that, to secure him- self against it, he accepted the living of Borthwick, which had been procured for him by Sir WiUiam Murray. " Two " years ago," he says, " such a situation " was the highest wish I had formed on *' earth ; but since that time an accident " gave my thoughts a different direction ; " and this direction has been gradually '* confirmed into habit, by a succession of " events, over which I had no control. " And when that object is about to be «' torn from me, it is not in man to be " composed." On the 23d of October, he wrote as if his disappointment had been certain, but, before concluding the letter, his xxr THE LIFE OF his doubts were removed, by an intimation that the affair was at last so far arranged, as to render it proper that he should, dur- ing the approaching winter, execute the du- ties of the absent Professor ; " which '* he " adds, may be considered, from the short *' time left for preparation, as matter of " condolence, rather than of congratula- *' tion." The time indeed, as the session opened about a fortnight after, was extremely short, and though his studies had probably been, for some months, guided by his expectations, yet, when we consider the harrassed situation of his mind, and the necessity he wa? under of devoting the small remaining interval, to prepare for his ordination and settlement at Borthv/ick, the credit and ability, with which he dis- charged the duties of his chair, bear testi- mony to the vigour of his talents, and the severity of his application. Though every day obliged to write a lecture for the next, yet so ready was his knowledge, and so accurate his composition, that many of these original lectures served him, without transcription, to the end of his life. His exertions were the more meritorious, as he had DR FINLAYSON; xxi had yet no absolute certainty of deriving from them any permanent advantage : for his appointment to the chair, of which he had, at this time, only an interim pos- session, depended on the resignation of the professor, who was then abroad, and whose intentions had not been explicitly declared. About the beginning of 1787, he was ordained minister of the parish of Borth- wick ; and in the succeeding summer, add- ed to his other labours a course of parochial visitation, which had been discontinued in that parish for upwards of thirty years. This practice he resumed, as he informed the narrator, by the recommendation of the celebrated Dr Robertson, who probably thought it more incumbent on a clergy- man in the country than in a city, where parochial distinctions are but little attended to. But the sedentary confinement and ex- hausting fatigue, to which he was subjected by these complicated occupations, must have materially injured his constitution ; for, though to his ordinary acquaintance he had the appearance of unimpaired an4 Steady health, his parents, whose observa- tion xxii THE LIFE OF tion would be more anxiously minute, refer to this date, and to these causes, certain ail- ments of the stomach, with which he had never before been affected. During the subsequent winter, he had re- newed his exertions with unabated diligence, as appears from the following extract of a letter to his friend, dated the 12th May, 1788. *' I am now enjoying the luxury of ** ease after a month of very hard labour. *' In consequence of taking a separate hour " for examining my students, I found use " for between twenty and thirty additional " lectures. These, from an unpardonable " degree of indolence, I had neglected to *' prepare, until the spur of necessity " touched me. The greater part of them " belonged to the last branch of my course, '' which is ' The means of communicating ■' truth', and were on the origin and pro- *' gress of language, on the principles of *' Universal grammar. See. I have project- " ed about six more on style, and on the " best method of arranging and conducting " a discourse, for the purpose of producing " conviction. These will complete my " plan DR FINLAYSON. xxiii " plan, and leave me at leisure to turn my " attention to the improvement of those " hasty sketches, which I have hitherto " made. This summer I devote to the *' History of Philosophy. If indolence and " sermon-making permit me, I mean to " write that branch of the course anew, *' and to throw into it a greater degree of " order, and of knowledge, than I was <' formerly able to do. About a year after the date of this letter, he was disturbed by a report, that the Pro- fessor, whose place he had for three years supplied, was disposed to reclaim his situa- tion and resume its duties ; but his appre- hensions were speedily put to rest by a fi- nal arrangement, and he found himself sole and undisputed possessor of the chair. As soon as he felt his security complete, a de- licate sense of duty made him propose to resign his living, and he was induced to re- tain it, only at the request of the Patron, who, by this time, had discovered the value of such a neighbour. He was indeed rising into reputation with a rapidity, which may appear unaccountable, when we consider his xlT THE LIFE OF his total want of ostentation, and his igno- rance or neglect of that address, by which the artful contrive to make the most of their peculiar merit, and mdustrioubly cre- ate opportunities for displaying their fairest qualities, while the rest are l.ft in the shade. To all this stage-trick of vanity, Mr Finlay- son was an absolute stianger ; and it is difficult to say whether his disdain or un- fitness for it was greatest. He never so- licited public notice, unless by the quiet and conscientious discharge of his duties. Though his good deeds were numerous, they were secret ; and though his temper was social, and his conversation improving, it had liitle of that brilliancy, or point, or power of general captivaiion, which seem necessary to spread the literary fame of a man, who declines to court it through the press. His reputation was created by the exactness of his information, the accuracy of his opinions, and his talent for that pa- tient and minute enquiry on which they rested. These useful endowments were quickly perceived by those with whom he acted, particularly in his clerical capacity ; and on the judgment of this young counsel- lor, DR FINLAYSON. xxt lor, the most experienced sages of the church were not ashamed to repose, in va- rious questions of ecclesiastical policy. To justify the respect which was paid to his ad- vice, and the frequency with which it was solicited, he dedicated much of his leisure to study the laws, constitution, and history of the Scottish Church, and began to take an active part in the details of its pohtical government. This, by extending *his ac- quaintance and consideration among the clergy, made him gradually lean more to the ecclesiastical, than to the hterary, de- partment of his functions. Though con- stant in the study of every branch of know- ledge, yet from the society he preferred, and the objects he pursued, he became more of a clergyman, than a mere man of let- ters ; and though literature may regret this direction of his talents, it was of essential benefit to the body in whose favour it was chosen. Could a collection be made of his correspondence with clergymen, in every corner of the kingdom, who had resorted to him for advice, it v/ould probably form the ablest digest and interpretation of the laws, and the safest guide in the administration ■xxvl THE LIFE OF of the Church, which have yet appeared. His partiality to the clerical character was also, in one respect, productive of advan- tage to his students ; as it prevented him from dreading the charge of an unfashion- able fanaticism, or an approach to preach- ing inconsistent with his eminence in secu- lar literature, for maintaining in the chair the truth and importance of that religion which he taught in the pulpit. He was even studious of taking every fair opportu- nity to draw his illustrations from Christi- anity ; and thus kept its principles alive in the mind of youth, at a period when they are too apt to decline. While thus advancing in reputation, it was natural to expect that he should speedi- ly be removed to a living in Edinburgh ; where, from its being the metropolitan seat of that great corporation, which is formed by the North British Church, men of incli- nation and ability to conduct ecclesiastical affairs can be of the most effectual and ex- tensive service. This change he seems him- self to have anticipated, by the following expressions in a letter dated the 2d of April 1788; DR FINLAYSON. xx?u 1788 : " T can give you 110 information " concerning the intentions of the Town- " council of Edinburgh respecting myself " Common report says they are favourable j " but report is an unsafe reed to lean on. No " application has been made to any of its « members in my behalf At the same time " I think it not altogether improbable, that " they may give me a removal, in the course " of a year or two. He was accordingly translated in 1790 to Lady Tester's church ; and, on the vacancy occasioned by the death of Dr Robertson, was, in 1793, removed to the collegiate church of Old Grayfriars. Here his prefer- ment might have been expected to termi- nate ; but there still remained a single step of professional elevation, and this it was also his lot to attain. The High church of Edinburgh, being graced by the ^ittendance of the Magistrates, Judges, and Royal Com- missioner, who appear in it with official so- lemnity, has always been deemed pre-emi- nent in dignity : and the Magistrates, who are patrons, being scrupulously anxious to have it properly filled, except it from the c 2 rules xxTiii THE LTFE.OF rules which they generally observe in sup- plying the rest. A vacancy here having occurred in 1799, they chose Mr Finlayson as the person most likely to do credit to the situation ; and their judgment was confirm- ed by the unanimous voice of the public, and especially of those dignified characters who formed part of the congregation. In his new office, he had the satisfaction of being associated with his amiabTe and distinguished friend Dr Blair ; who, though now laid aside, by age and infirmity, from the performance of his pubhc duty, was honourably employed in closing a long, a virtuous, and an illustrious life, by prepar- ing a fifth volume of sermons for the press. The MSS of these sermons, wholly writ- ten by the hand of their author, in his 8 2d year, Mr Finlayson sohcited from the prin- ters, and carefully preserved them, as a li- terary curiosity, splendidly bound, and pre- faced with a suitable inscription. JBut this pleasing connection was dissolv- ed, in less than a year from its commence- ment, by the death of his venerable col- league. DR FINLAYSON; xxlx league, whose funeral sermon he preached on the following Sunday. The latter part of this discourse he afterwards published at the close of a short memoir of the life of Dr Blair, annexed to the posthumous vo- lume of his sermons. The misfortune sustained by Mr Finlay- son, in the loss of his celebrated colleague received all the alleviation, of which it was susceptible, from the appointment of one of his most early and intimate friends to supply the vacancy. Human life has few greater comforts to bestow, than finding those, with whom we had been strictly and confidentially connected in its outset, after various separations, rejoin us as we ad- vance, with the prospect of travelling the remainder of the way, in their company. Of this comfort Mr Finlayson had the full enjoyment ; for though his journey was nearer its close, than might naturally have been expected, he had the satisfaction of performing it in uninterrupted union with the companion of his youth ; of being watched by his tender assiduity, in his de- parting moments ; and of confiding to his execution the last wishes of his heart. c 3 Not XXX THE LIFE OF Not long after the completion of this satisfactory arrangement, he v/as dignified by the University of Edinburgh with the degree of D. D. : and, in 1802, he received the highest testimony of respect, which the Church of Scotland can bestow upon her members, by being elected Moderator or President of the General Assembly. After this advancement to the only species of Primacy, consistent with the spi- rit and structure of Presbyterian pohty, the hfe of Dr Finlayson proceeded in its usual tenour ; marked by few events, and mana- ged with much attention to the frugal and judicious distribution of his time. Though the chief part of every day was devoted to study, yet his evenings were, frequently spent in the exercise or enjoyment of hos- pitality. He had an extensive acquaint- ance among people of various ranks and descriptions. He uniformly maintained a liberal intercourse with his colleagues in the University ; and was a welcome guest at the table of many, who were eminent in business, or high in office, and who return- ed his visits with every mark of personal respect. DR FINLAYSON. x\x I'espect. But his most frequent and fami- liar associates were selected from his co- presbyters, and strangers of the same pro- fession from the country, who could both relish and promote the discussion of topics relating to the church ; and all that sort of esoteric conversation, in which members of the some community delight to indulge. In autumn he commonly visited his rela- tions, and the family of Ochtertyre ; or joined with a party of his friends in some cheerful excursion. But this tranquil and enviable course of life was not to last. It was interrupted, in the early part of 1805, by prognostics of some internal disease. At first there was no alarming symptom except a frequent acceleration of the pulse ; but during the summer, most of which he passed with a brother in the country, he was affected with a debility, and an indistinct sensation of decline, which made him at tnat time abandon all hope of recovery. By the skill of his physicians, however, and the re- sistance of his constitution, his strength and spirits were so far recruited, as to fit c 4 him THE LIFE OF him for the usual duties of the winter, and for enjoying a long ride in the following summer. During all this period, his unfa- vourable symptoms never entirely disap- peared, and were often so considerably in- creased, that a mind of less firmness would probably have given way under constant and protracted apprehension. In the be- ginning of 1 807, he became considerably, worse ; but for the last time regained suffi- cient strength, to accompany two friends, with apparent enjoyment, in a pretty ex- tensive tour. On opening his class, soon after his return, he spoke so feebly, as to show that his strength was exhausted, and his respiration impeded. Having persever- ed for two weeks, he was obliged entirely to desist, and to call in the willing aid of Dr Baird, his colleague, who read the re- mainder of his lectures. In January 1808 his unfavourable symptoms rapidly multi- plied, and some of them were attended with excruciating pain ; but on the 25th, while conversing with his colleague, a paralytic stroke deprived him of sensation on that side where his sufferings had been most acute, and so far contributed to '' smooth THE LIFE OF xxxiii " smooth the bed of death." In this help- less state, the respectful tenderness of his friends was strongly manifested, by the number who contended for the honour of watching over him. On the 27 th his articulation, which had hitherto been un- intelligible, became somewhat better, and the first expression which could be under- stood was this solemn one ; " I am about *' to pass to a better habitation, where all " who believe in Jesus shall enter." He soon after requested to join in some acts of devotion suited to a death-bed. In the course of the day, he gave distinct direc- tions about his affairs, and named the books which he wished to be presented to his friends, with a minute attention to their taste, and with such exact instructions where to find the absent volumes, as shewed the most perfect calmness and self posses- sion. Warmth of friendship, for which he was always distinguished, was the last feel- ing that forsook him : and the agitation, occasioned by an impulse of affection, snapt the slender thread by which soul and body were still held together. On the 28th, a- bout the hour when his friends generally made *x2iv THE LIFE OF made their final enquiry for the day, a number of them were assembled in his li- brary ; and one who was about to retire, sig- nifying a desire to see him^ was introduced and named. The Doctor grasped his hand, and expressed the satisfaction which he felt in such an attendance at such a moment : and being about to swallow some cordial, added, " I drink your health, my dear Sir, •' and may your life be long !" At this, his friend being unable to suppress- his emo- tions, precipitately withdrew ; and the pa- tient appeared to change so suddenly, that all in the adjoining room were called in, and formed a silent circle round his bed, while he gently and almost imperceptibly expired. So insensibly indeed did the spi- rit disengage itself, as he leant on the bo- som of a brother, that a deep unbreathing pause of several minutes ensued, while every eye was fixed on the pale countenance, with an expectation of seeing it re-animated. It was a spectacle of solemn and impressive -sublimity : a picture so forcibly stamped on the minds of the beholders, by its associated circumstances, and especially by ** the aw- " ful DR FINLAYSON. xxxv ** ful stilness of sorrow," in which it was contemplated, as never to be obscured by the longest traiii of subsequent events which the last survivor of the group may- witness. The anxiety felt by the public respecting the fate of Dr Finlayson, and the sensation created by his death, bore ample testimony to the general conviction of his worth ; and the numerous and honourable attendance on his funeral, proclaimed to the city, through which it proceeded, the value and consideration of him whom it had lost. Ten of his more intimate friends accompa- nied it to Dunblane, in the Cathedral of which he was interred on the 2d of Febru- ary ; and never was a grave bedewed by the tears of a more sincere and penetrating regret. The character of Dr Finlayson was plain and simple, and open to the most careless inspection. With a just confidence in him- self, which he never affected to disguise ; he had no vanity to create those intricate concealments, and unfounded pretensions,, which require superior sagacity to pene- trate. xxxvi THE LIFE OF trate. His passions were naturally keen, and of any conduct that was equivocal or base, he never minced his reprehension, " for even his failings leant to virtue's side.'* He had few of the arts of a politician, and none of a courtier. His perfect sincerity, and unconsciousness of any hostile feeling which required to be suppressed, gave him to bis political opponents an appearance of bluntness : but to his friends his manner was precisely the same. When they appli- ed to him for advice, as they uniformly did in every difficulty, if he thought they had acted amiss, he told them so with explicit- ness and brevity ; disdaining all those pre- fatory softenings, and qualifying approaches that are employed by men of address, to oil the knife before they cut ; and avowing the utmost contempt of that squeamish sen- sibility, which requires to be " swaddled " and dandled" into a sense of duty. Such was the persuasion, however, of the excel- lence of his counsel, and the purity of his intentions, that notwithstanding this primi- tive plainness of manner, even his political rivals, on points of business unconnected with party, are said to have occasionally re* sorted DR FIFLAYSON. xxxvii sorted to his judgment. In conversation he preserved the same artless sincerity ; and was perhaps too strict a reasoner, to be very lively or amusing, as the companion of a relaxing hour. He was so quick to perceive any looseness of argument, or confusion of ideas, that he sometimes damped the vola- tile by their detection ; or put to rest, by some short Socratic question, a conversation that would have straggled into that fanciful and erratic variety, which is so generally re- lished. But though little quahfied himself to shine in light and airy dialogue, he was pleased with it in others, and often led the way for the exertion of their talents, by provoking a harmless and inoffensive rail- lery, in his most intimate circle. In the more serious offices of friendship, his me- rits were singularly perfect ; for his kind- ness as well as his advice, his purse, as well as his personal exertions, were ever at the command of those whom he esteemed. To young men of merit he was an active and persevering patron : and to such as were indigent, his aid was extensive, though «ilent as that of the being whom he endea- voured to imitate. This appeared from the numbgi- xxxTiii THE LIFE OF number of acknowledgments for small sums, which at his death, he directed to be destroyed. It was a rare and pleasing circumstance in his character, that it seemed to increase in excellence, the more closely and severely it w^as examined. It had fewest attractions to a distant eye, but on a nearer approach, many of its apparent blemishes diminished or disappeared. No man, it has been said, is a hero to his valet de chambre ; but this maxim was contradicted in the case of Dr Finlayson, who was uniformly most adr mired by those, with whom his intercourse was most frequent and familiar. Qusm ego, as each of them might have said, cum ex admiratione diligere coepissem^ quod eve?iire contra solet^ mag'is admiratus sum^ postquam pe^ nitus inspexi. He was cautious in exhibiting himself a§ an author, his only publications being two occasional sermons, and a short account of Dr Blair. He likewise printed, but did not publish, the " Heads of an Argument" on a question depending before the ecclesiastical courts DR FINLAYSON. xxxix courts. The last production furnished an excellent specimen of his practical powers in the art which it was his province to teach* Of Dr Finlayson*s manner in the pulpit, lit his first appearance as a preacher, some account has already been given. It never underwent any material change. But his sermons partook of that progressive im- provement which his mind derived from the daily exercise of his powers, and exten- sion of his knowledge. A few hours be- fore his death, he consented, at the sugges- tion of his colleague, that a volume of his sermons should be publislied, and expressed a desire that they should be printed, under the superintendance of the person whom he addressed, and of two other friends whom he named, and that the profits of the sale should be applied in aid of the surplus fund for the benefit of the widows of the minis- ters of the Church of Scotland. The gen- tlemen, entrusted with this posthumous duty, have accordingly selected, from the whole of his serrnons, those which their united judgment preferred ; and, from the excellence of such of these discourses as they xl THE LIFE OF they have favoured the narrator with an opportunity of reading, he entertains Uttle doubt, that they will find their care re- warded by the thanks of the public. On the conduct pursued by Dr Finlay- son, as a member of ecclesiastical courts, the present writer abstains from making any detailed remarks. The questions con- nected with the policy and discipline of the Church of Scotland are so remote from his concerns, that he has never paid them much attention : nor could he acquit himself of presumption, were he to hazard any opi-' nion on topics, with which he is so imper- fectly acquainted. Of his talents in debate, his biographer is equally unqualified to judge, never having enjoyed an opportunity of witnessing their exertion. From the report of others, how- ever, confirmed by the conception which he had formed of Dr Finlayson's character, it appears that he chiefly excelled in clear statement, close and forcible reasoning, and the exclusion of idle ornament, irrelevant remark PR FINLAYSON. xli remark, and every thing like stratagem or delusion. As a teacher of logic, he acquitted him- self in the manner which might be expect- ed, from his talents, industry, and integrity. His sole and exclusive object was the im- provement of those who had been entrusted to his instruction. With this he suffered nothing to interfere : and when he entered his lecture-room, it was not to recommend himself, or to seize the occasion of display- ing more ability than others, but for the single purpose of communicating to his au- ditors as much as possible of the ability which he possessed. It frequently happens that ingenious and inventive philosophers are less successful in teaching, than might be presumed from their powers. They are apt to make their pupils of too little impor- tance, and themselves of too much ; to draw undue attention to their own disco- veries ; and, from aspiring with habitual eagerness at opening untravelled paths, to become negligent or reluctant guides through those which are flimiliar to them. With Dr Finlayson this was never the case : d for xlli TilE LIFE OF for whatever might have been his disposi_ tion to reUeve the fatigue of teaching by- indulging in refined speculations, it was corrected by a sacred sense of duty, which made him feel that in his class-room he belonged to his pupils, and which limited his concern to the labour of that elementary- training, in the rudiments of science, which they had a title to expect. The number of original thinkers in philosophy is small ; and very few even of these appear at such a period, and under such a preparation of circumstances, as to have an opportunity of founding a new school or overturning an old one. The rest, though perhaps not in- ferior in genius to some who have had a more fortunate destiny, must be content to shew it, by their ready adoption, their skil- ful propagation, and their' ingenious cor- rection or illustration of prior discoveries. For such a task Dr Finlayson was admira- bly qualified. To every subject he applied a judgment which had confidence in its own strength^ and bowed to no authority however high ; a sagacity, which the over- sights even of a Bacon or a Locke were un- able to escape ; and a boldness of close en- quiry DR FINLAYSON. xliii quiry and candid statement, which their venerable names were unable to overawe. But, in whatever way he was engaged, whether in patiently repeating the initia- tory maxims of science, or in enriching it with original improvements, all was in sub- servience to his paramount object ; and he claimed from it no farther praise, than as it contributed to the more perfect and consci- entious discharge of the public duty confid- ed to his execution. On all subjects he had a more than ordinary aversion and contempt for vague or supt^rficial information, and never con- sidered himself as knowing any thing, except v/hat he knew with profoundness and precision. The certainty and extent of his own knowledge produced their natural effect, by enabling him to com- municate knowledge vv^ith equal minuteness and perspicuity ; and he disdained, for a mere parade of erudition, to perplex his students, by introducing any discussion of topics which he perceived to be incapable of definite and satisfactory explanation. This was particularly observeable in the views xlir THE LIFE OF views which he presented of the differences of opinion among the ancient sects ; of the subtle disputes of the schoolmen ; and of the metaphysical controversies of modern times. These subjects, which to many- are irksome from their nature, have fre- quently been rendered more so by the in- distinct and fatiguing manner in which they have been detailed. But under the treatment of Dr Finlayson, they acquired unusual interest ; chiefly from the judg- ment with which he selected the most striking and characteristic tenets of various classes of philosophers ; the brevity and simplicity with which he stated them ; and the consequent ease with which they could be apprehended, discriminated, and re- membered. The rational and comprehensive order, in which his ideas naturally arranged them- selves, is apparent from the plan of his lectures, the first of which contains the following prospectus. *' Logic was for- " merly defined to be the scientifical art " which has for its object the discovery " and communication of truth. A course of DR FINL.\TSON. xU •' of lectures for teaching this art seems " naturally to divide itself into four great " branches. The first should contain a " description of the faculties of the human *' understanding, the instruments which the " art employs. The second should give a " general description and arrangement of " the objects, towards which these faculties " may be directed. The third should " teach the best methods of applying " them to all that variety of objects, for dis- *' covering with success their nature and re- " lations. And the fourth should point out " the shortest and most certain way of com- " municating to others the results of that " application." Under these four heads, he communicat- ed all the information connected with his subject, which he thought would be of practical advantage to his pupils ; without omitting to offer shorter sketches of the frivolous speculations to which it has given birth, and the history of which, though of little use, for improving the understanding, he judged it proper that a scholar should know. The xlvi THE LIFE OF The Scotch Universities possess an ad- vantage over those of some other countries, in the superior liberty which is allowed the teacher to exercise his own discretion for accomplishing the object of his appoint- ment. He is confined, neither by rule nor custom, to any established text, or routine of instruction, or to follow the method of a predecessor, farther than it may appear un- susceptil)le of improvement. He can thus vary his lessons, and accommodate them to the progressive advance of the sciences ; and, owing to this circumstance, it frequent- ly happens, that the lectures of a new pro- fessor bear but little resemblance to those which had been previously delivered in the same department. In no hands could such a latitude of discretion be more safely lodged than in those of Dr Finlayson. His dihgence enabled him to collect the most exact and extensive knovvledge of his subject, and his judgment to separate what w^as useful from what was superfluous ; while his coolness and candour prevented liim from being so enthusiastically wedded to any favourite system, as not to appreciate fairly, and give due commendation to others. DR FINLAYSON. xUu Others. He thought, for example, that, from the over-zeal of new converts to a re^ volution in philosophy, the modern im- provements of logic had occasioned that of the antients to be too much depreciated and derided. He therefore held the balance dispassionately between them ; and labour- ed to restore the latter to such a measure of the honour which it had lost, as he thought its ingenuity and utihty might fairly claim. He shewed that syllogistic reasoning was invented as an instrument by which sophis- try might be exposed, and that its efficacy for such a purpose must be admitted even by its enemies; that, although it can seldom be employed to make new discoveries in the works of nature, it may often be use- ful to ascertain the value of the proof on which these discoveries are founded ; that though defective for conducting us to truth, it is admirably fitted to guard us against error, and that, in all abstract ques- tions, it is the mode by which the mind naturally proceeds to unravel their intri- cacy. He shewed that many of the most persuasive compositions are but expanded or informal syllogisms, and proved his assertion xlviii THE LIFE OF assertion by reducing a variety of orations, both ancient and modern to the simple propositions which they involve. This is stated merely as an instance of that fair- ness, which, on all topics, Dr Finlayson as scrupulously maintained, and of the correct and impartial representations, with which he impressed the youthful mind, at its entrance on philosophical enquiries. By those who had the good fortune of studying under this intelligent instructor, and who recollect the various degrees of gratification, which they derived from different parts of his course, it may be ex- ' pected that the excellence of the conclud- ing division, embracing the theoretical his- tory of language, and the principles of nniversal grammar, should be distinguished by particular notice. These wxre subjects on which his acuteness and originality of reflection were conspicuously evinced. While he neglected to study no author of eminence by whom they had been discuss- ed ; and while he apportioned with strik- ing sagacity the credit that wt.s due to each ; he did not hesitate to suggest opi- nions, DR FINLAYSON. xllx nions, in which he differed from them all : and it is difficult to say whether the in- genuity with which these were conceived, the solid argument with which tKey were maintained, or the perspicuous and in- teresting simplicity with which they were illustrated was most deserving of applause. He did not rest contented, however, with a consciousness of the clear and intelligible manner in which his doctrines were com- municated, and of the consequent probabi- lity that they must have been apprehended and retained. He was impatient to con- vince himself, by the most satisfying proof, that his duty was not only done, but had succeeded in producing its effect. For this purpose, he, every week, dedicated a por- tion of time to the oral examination of his pupils ; and, by his masterly performance of this voluntary task, he rendered the ex- ertion, to which their minds were thus in- vited, not less attractive than advantageous. Of this we need not better evidence than the fact, that although he left their atten- dance optional at the hour of examination, few ever availed themselves of the opportu- e nity I THE LIFE OF nity to forego the pleasure which it afForded. He exercised them, hkewise, frequently and periodically, in writing essays on the sub- jects which had been considered ; and be- stowed the most indefatigable pains, not so much in detecting, as in leading themselves to detect their errors ; and in rendering them practical masters of the principles of composition, by accustoming them to re- call and arrange their knowledge, and to express it w^ith ease, propriety and elegance. From such exertions they derived the most essential benefit : and many of them now- advancing to eminence in the learned pro- fessions, have been heard to acknowledge, that for the prompt and dexterous use of their talents, they are chiefly indebted to that parental assiduity, with which the wing of genius was pruned, and its first experi- mental flights encouraged and directed, un- der the care of Dr Finlayson. Even among the few, whom the very independence of opinion, to which they were form.ed by his precept and example, has led to differ from him, on points of high importance, those .with whom his biographer occasionally -meets, have been forward and unanimous, in DR FINLAYSON. li in expressing their unqualified approbation of the manner in which his academical duties were performed. Others, there- fore, will hardly contradict the assertion, which must be allowed to imply a splendid though relative praise, that in an Universi- ty renowned through Europe, for the num- ber of illustrious men by whom its reputa- tion is extended, Dr Finlayson was surpassed by none, as an enlightened, judicious, and successful teacher. That he was so considered by its patrons appeared from the unexampled attention which they paid to his dying recommenda- tion of a, successor in the chair ; for such was their deference even to his posthumous advice, that before his relics left the city, an offer of the office was made to the per- son whom he had named. The friend thus distinguished, while penetrated with a. double gratitude to the adviser and to the adopters of the measure, was yet induced by circumstances to decline the appoint- ment ; but he can never cease to retain a proud and pleasing remembrance that, in a transaction which so nearly concerned him. m THE LIFE OF him, so high a compliment was paid to the judgment of one, by whose esteem he had been honoured, and of whose kindness even death had no power to intercept the effects. By that friend the preceding memoir of Dr Finlayson is supplied : not without some complacency in the prospect, that he may thus preserve the memory of their mu- tual regard ; and that he will be at least no loser in the estimation of others, by record- ing the continuance and cordiality of his connection with such a man as he has at- tempted to describe j — a man in whom the imperfections incident to human nature were either so few, or so strenuously correc- ted ; and in whose life was exhibited so rare and animating an example of self-promoted merit, of unblemished purity of intention, and of all the elevated and independent energies of a vigorous and virtuous mind. SER- SERMON I I Corinthians, i. 21. H pleased God, by the foolishness of preaching, to save them that believe. X HE Christian revelation is the most im- portant measure which Divine Providence has hitherto employed for restoring the hap- piness and perfection of the human race. By the clear light which it throws on many interesting subjects of speculation, it has en- larged, in an inconceivable degree, the li- mits of useful knowledge. By the views which it opens into the plan of the Divine Government, it has furnished consolation under all the evils that beset us. And by the force of its motives, of its aids, and of its hopes, it gives effectual support to the authority of conscience, and has promoted the * Preached before the Society incorporated by Royal Charter for the benefit of the Sons of the Clergy of the established Church of Scotland, in St. Andrew's Church, Edinburgh, 22d May, 1801. A ^ SERMON I. the cause of virtue and order wherever its genuine principles have been received. It is thus the power of God unto salvation — the instrument by which he raises his children to the perfection and glory that are pre- pared for them in heaven. The chief mean by which the blessings of this Revelation have been communicated to mankindy is the preaching of the word — a mean of instruction which, in the time of ^t Paul, was in a great measure new to the world. It had been employed, indeed, in the Jewish synagogue, at the reading of the law and the prophets ! but that employment of it was very limited, both in respect of the subjects which it emlpraced, and of the persons to whom it was addressed : and throughout the whole extent of the heathen nations, the practice was altogether un- known. In Greece, by far the most cele- brated of these nations for learning and re- finement, there were magnificent temples, in which many splendid ceremonies were observed in honour of the gods, and a vari- ety of officers consecrated to the services of devotion ; but there was no institution like that of preaching, for explaining to the people SERMON I. S people the principles of their religious sys- tem. These principles, restnig on the au- thority of a dark uncertain tradition, were in themselves of doubtful credit ; they were intended to influence the imagination ra- ther than the judgment of the worshipper ; and as, for this effect, a certain degree of obscurity is requisite, it w^as deemed un- necessary and inexpedient either to collect or to explain ihem. Hence, when the apos- tles of Christ went forth preaching the king- dom of God, and unfolding clearly its doct- rines and its objects, their plan of conduct excited surprise. By tbe Greeks in parti- cular it was derided as foolishness — as a scheme of reformation unskilfully devised, and on account of the simplicity and weak- ness of those who engaged in it, incapable of answering any valuable end. But the judgment of the Greeks in this case, biassed by the prejudices of their edu- cation, was widely distant from the truth. Experience has shown, that the institution which they condemned, was admirably cal- culated for diffusing the light of rehgious knowledge through all ranks of men. It was, in a particular manner, fitted for pro- A 2 motin^ 4 SERMON I moting both the intellectual and the mord improvement of the poor. It extended to the meanest slave the advantages which had hitherto been confined to the schools of the Philosophers, and opened to him sources both ot information and of comfort, which no Philosopher had been able to disclose. For, when the world by wisdom knew not God, it pleased God, by the foolishness of preaching, to save them that believe. Many reasons concur to persuade us, that the human race is destined by Providence to rise, by gradual progressive steps, to high-' er and higher measures of knowledge and virtue. Wise men, in reviewing the his- tory of their kind, have marked the progress of this advance in past ages ; aad they have traced with diligence the second causes which God has successively employed to promote it. Of th^se causes, the preaching of his word, though generally overlooked in the enumeration, has had a very power- ful effect, and seems to me to have contri- buted more than any other single circum- stance, to enhghten, to humanize, to reform and improve mankind. This is a position of much importance to the pohtical history of SERMON I. 6 of human improvement, as well as to the cause of Christianity ; and as the illustra- tion of it will unfold the great advantage \vhich has resulted to the world even from one part of the duty performed by the Chris- tian Clergy, it cannot fail to be pecuharly interesting to a Society instituted for the benefit of their Sons. The three great requisites, for improv- ing the human condition, are knowledge, consolation and virtue. — Knowledge, to discern what is good, and what are the means of attaining it ; — Consolation, to sup- port us under the inevitable sorrows of our probationary state ; — and virtue, which is the health of the soul, and our preparation for the pure unfading happiness of heaven. Now, in each of these respects, the Institu- tion of preaching is admirably calculated to produce the most extensive and beneficial effects. I. The preaching of the gospel has con- tributed in a remarkable degree to improve the intellectual capacities of human nature, and to disseminate, through a wider sphere, the principles of useful knowledge. This A 3 effect & SERMON I. effect of it is visible in the history of the world, and has resulted necessarily from the very nature of the institution. When we look abroad through the na- tions of the earth, where do we discover the most evident traces of mental cultiva- tion ? Where do the arts exhibit the most splendid triumphs ? Where has science lifted her torch, and carried the light of true phi- losophy through all the departments of ac- tive life ? Where do we find not a few spe- culative men, but the whole body of the people, hberal, sagacious, and enhghtened ? Not, as might have been expected, in those favoured regions where the advantages of crowded population and regular government have been longest enjoyed ; but in those comparatively modern nations which have been illuminated by the rays of Christianity, where every individual is a free man, and has his reasoning powers exercised weekly in the most sublime and interesting discus- sions. Even in Christian countries, we observe a remarkable difference in the general illu- mination of the people between those na- tions where the institution of preaching is observed SERMON I. 7 observed in its original frequency, and those where it has been in some measure supersed- ed by the more seductive pageantry of an expensive and pompous worship. Owing to this abuse, the practice of preaching in the Christian assembly was, during the middle ages, almost totally laid aside ; and the people sunk into ignorance and barbar- ism. It revived with the Reformation ; excited the talents of those to whom it was addressed ; and carried with it a Hghc into all the countries where the Reforma- tion made any considerable progress. Even the Romish church was, in some remark- able instances, forced in self defence to employ the same means of instruction ; and wherever this happened, the consequence was soon perceptible in the improved in- tellectual habits of the people ; where it did not, the people continued to this hour buried in the grossest ignorance and superstition *. From * The truth of this reasoning is confirmed not only by facts respecting the unequal dift'usion of knowledge through the different portions of the western chureh, corresponding to the unequal degrees in which they admitted the regular practice of instruction from the pulpit. The history of the sastern^church tends powerfully to establish the same point; A 4 and n SERMON I. From these historical facts, it is obvious that intellectual improvement has at least been an attendant on the preaching of the gospel. And it will not be difficult to shew, that this institution was itself the direct and principal cause of that improve-* ment. It threw into the circulation of human thought a new stock of most interesting principles— principles well estabhshed them- selves, fruitful in important consequences, and fitted to exercise all the higher facultie* of the understanding. It trained a nume- rous order of men, and forced them, by the very nature of their employment, td cultivate and it reflects credit on the enlightened policy of Catharine II. of Russia, that she early perceived, and adopted, the use of this institution for civilizing her extensive empire. " It is well known," says one of the latest authors who have given accounts of that country, " that, in the service '•' of the Greek church, pulpit discourses were extremely " rare. The late Empress, who clearly perceived their « utility, and knew the effect which the public delivery of " lessons of a superior morality, substantiated by the " example of the Divine Author of our religion, must have ** upon the hearts of men, gave great encouragement to " sacred eloquence, with the utmost energy and the *' happiest effects. "—Storch's Picture of Petersburg, pa^e 360. " SERMON I. 0 cultivate their intellectual talents, to cherish habits of regular thought, and to study the most effectual method of elucidating and confirming the doctrines which they taught. This order of men it mingled with the mass of the people, and placed them in a situation, where their example and instruc- tions could not fail to draw forth and im- prove the reasoning powers of their hear- ers.—We, my brethren, are scarcely in a condition to estimate fairly the full effect of such an institution. Its advantages ex- tend themselves indirectly even to those who are seldom seen in the place of wor- ship ; and the habitual enjoyment of them conceals its power from our view. But what would an ancient philosopher have expected, if, by an institution like this, he could have spread the light of reason be- yond the limits of his school, and explain- ed the great principles of religious and mo- ral science in a form adapted both to the capacity and the taste of the meanest of the people ? Would he not have anticipat- ed an aera of high intellectual cultivation, and hailed with rapture the return of that fabled age of gold, v/hen men, guided 2 merely 10 SERMON I. merely by the light of their own minds, performed without restraint the obligations of duty, and enjoyed without interruption the pure delights of benevolence and vir- tue ?— Behold, O Christian I an illumina- tion, far brighter than that of any philoso- phic school, hath beamed on the world. They who sat in darkness have seen a great lights and to them who sat in the region and shadow of death, light hath sprung up. Schools of heavenly wisdom are opened through the nations of Christendom, where all ranks listen from their infancy to doctrines the most interesting and attractive ; and where, in learning the things of God, they have their faculties exercised, their taste formed, and their powers of judging and reasoning, even concerning earthly matters, gradually strengthened and improved. " Nothing," said the son of Sirach, " is so much v/orth " as a v^^ell instructed mind." And this blessing even the labourer with us, who toils through the week for his daily bread, may enjoy in a very eminent degree. Through the institution of preaching, he has means of intellectual improvement far superior to those of the same rank in for- mer SERMON I. II hier times, and possesses, in fact, a more ac- curate and extensive knowledge of the works and ways of God, ot the benevolent plans of Providence, and of the destination of man, than was enjoyed by the most en- lightened sages of antiquity. And do not think, my brethren, that, if this institution were now to be with- drawn, the light which it has diffused would continue with us. Though modern times would still possess other means of illumina- tion, arising from the art of printing, from the almost universal diffusion of the art of reading, and from the general impulse given to the human powers — means which would operate to a certain extent, and, for a while, prevent the return of total dark- ness ; yet, without the aid of this institu- tion, and of t/je public schools^ which ema- nated from it, and of which it still forms the vivifying principle, they would gradually languish and decline. They have not suffi- cient power in themselves, and on their own account, to attract the attention, or to excite the talents of the unthinking multi- tude. They are valued by them chiefly as g preparation for the blessings of religious instruction ; it SERMON I. instruction ; and deprived of the co-opera- tion and impulse given by it, they would be like a machine that had lost its spring -, their force would soon cease to reach the mass of the people ; the natural darkness and corruption of the human heart would soon prevail against them ; and the cloud of superstition and barbarism would, in a few ages, return thick and deep on the most enlightened nations of Europe. These observations may be sufficient to prove that the preaching of the gospel, though appointed also for higher ends, has been employed by Providence as an instru- ment for cultivating the understandings of men, for bettering especially the in- tellectual condition of the poor, and for communicating to our race all the invalua- ble blessings which spring from knowledge^ and the improvement of their rational na- ture. Even on this account, every good man, who takes an interest in the happiness of his kind, will be deeply grateful to God for this beneficent measure of his govern- ment ; and will, in support of it, respect those who have been appointed to convey to the nations the word of knowledge, avoid SERMON I. 13 avoid with care whatever may tend to im- pair their credit, rejoice in their success, and strive, by his example and influence, to render their utility as extensive and per- manent as possible. But this institution is not only valuable as an instrument of intellectual improve- ment to the human race, through the kind of knowledge which it circulates j it furnishes, besides, II. A rich inexhaustible treasure of con- solation to every individual who employs it with proper dispositions. Numerous, my brethren, are the evils to which we are subjected in the course of our earthly pilgrimage. We live in the midst of a dark, and apparently disordered scene, through which neither wisdom nor virtue can conduct us unhurt. With a frail and mortal body, the source of innumerable pains, we have a soul which is the seat of conflicting passions, which is wounded most deeply through its best and tenderest afFec- "tions, and which seems but ill fitted to struggle with the difiEculties that oppose its progress to perfection. The events that be- fal u sehmon I. fal us in this scene are frequently afflictive^ and they often seem to happen without any regular direction. When they press against us, we have in ourselves but little power of resistance; and, borne down by their weight, we are too ready to conclude, that we are left desolate in a fatherless world; that there is no benevolent presiding power on whose protection we can rely ; that God neither seeth nor regardeth ; that darJ^ness is his secret place, and his pavilion round about him dark waters and thick clouds of the sky. In moments like these, when our feet are almost gone, and our steps have well nigh slipt, how comfortable and cheer- ing is the light which Revelation pours a- round us, and which, by the preaching of the gospel, is made famiHar to our souls ! In the sanctuary of God, we see the plan of Providence unveiled, and, through the mi- nistry of the word, discover order and beau- ty rising from the darkness. The train of thought which is there presented to us, and rendered habitual by its frequent recur- rence, has a direct and powerfal tendency to calm the agitations of a troubled heart, and to re-establish our confidence in God, We SERMON I. 15 We there learn, On evidence most satisflic- tory in itself, communicated in a form well fitted to impress our imagination, and link- ed most intimately with all our principles of judgment and of action, that God is good to all ; that, through Christ, he is reconcila- ble even to the guilty ; that his govern- ment of the universe is free from defect ; that the apparent disorder around us is es- sential to the nature of our probationary state, and productive of good ; that even afflictions are frequently messengers of his love ? and that all his dispensations are de- vised in wisdom to rescue us from guilt, and to prepare us in the end for a state of higher existence, where we shall be able to bear the unveiled manifestation of his glory, and to rejoice for ever in the brightness of his pre- sence. These are the consoling doctrines which the christian teacher is sent to pro- claim in the name of heaven ; and w^hich, through the preaching of the gospel, he con- veys from the crowded assembly, aided by all the force of sympathy, to the habitation of the mourner. How admirably gre they suited to the exigencies of our condition ! How wisely is the mode of their communi- cation 16 SERMON L cation adapted to the general circumstan- ces of the people ! And what innumerable multitudes, pierced with sorrow, and sink- ing in the depths of distress, have been rescued, by their gently soothing influence, from doubt, and melancholy, and despair I Why, then, should the gospel of the grace of God, and the ordinary means of trans- mitting its blessings by preaching through all ranks of men, be the objects of so much indifference, and even disparagement, to the pretended sages and philanthropists of the age ? Is it wise for themselves to withdraw from a fund of consolation which is so pre- cious in its nature, and which, in the vicis- situdes of human things, may soon become necessary to their souls ? Or is it benevo- lent to their brethren, and especially to their poorer brethren, to throw, by neglect either of itself, or of its ministers, contempt on an institution which teaches us to support the ills of our condition, and pours into our vv-ounds a balm more precious than any thing which this earth can afford ? Surely the multitudes of enlightened men, who suffer themselves habitually to commit this offence, and who, by their actions and their words SERMON I. 17 words j declare their wish, that the piibUc es- tabUshments for diffusing the knowledge of religion were abolished, do not reflect on the consequences of their conduct, nor sus- pect that they are doing what they can to undermine the best bulwarks of our hap- piness, and to open on mankind a vial of more malignant plagues than flow from war, or pestilence, or any natural cala- mity. But the doctrines which the preaching of the gospel preserves, and diffuses through all orders of the people, tend not only to en- lighten the understandings of men, and to alleviate the ills of life — They are also, III. Powerful means of our moral im- provement. This great truth your time will not per- mit me at present to illustrate with the fulness which its importance deserves : but it results so obviously from the very nature and tendency of the Institution, that a very few words will be sufiicient to estabhsh it. The principles of moral duty, taught by Christ and his Apostles, have, in general, extorted applause even from the adversaries B of 18 SERMON r. of bur faith. They possess a purity, perfec- tion, and power, which touch the conscience of every good man, and which have not been possessed, in an equal degree, by any o- ther system of moral duty which the world has seen. I speak not of the popular sys- tem of heathen nations, where impurity and injustice were sanctioned by the prac- tice of their Gods, and the ceremonies of their worship : I speak not of the imperfec- tions, which adhere of necessity to all codes of civil and criminal law : I speak not even of the elegant, but defective, delineations of duty transmitted to us by the boasted mas- ters of Grecian wisdom. All these are ob- viously, and to the conviction of every can- did mind, inferior, in many respects, to the morality of the gospel. I speak of the very best system which human reason, in its most cultivated state, is able to produce, and on which a philosophical unbeliever would be most disposed to rest his cause. This sys- tem, though carried to its utmost possible perfection, can never exceed, in purity and extent, the precepts of that divine law which regulates every movement of the heart ; es- timates actions only by the value of the in- ward SERMON I. 19 Ward disposition from which they spring ; and comprehends, in the wide embrace of its rules, all the relations in which we can be placed. And, while it can claim no su- periority in these respects, it must remain for ever destitute of that clear authority ; that omnipotent support ; that attractive in- fluence ; that reforming energy, by which the gospel animates, and aids, and dignifies the virtue of a Christian. Shewing to him, at once, and without the intervention of doubtful reasonings, the path in which he ought to walk, the obligations which bind him to follow it, the recompense prepared at its termination, both for the righteous and the wicked, together with the constant in- spection of that great God who loves him, who will help him in every hour of need, and who will be his judge at the last—the gospel inspires him with more than moral vigour, and enables him to display a stead- fastness in temptation, and a perseverance in well doing, of which the man of unassisted reason can scarcely form a conception. The system of duty, therefore, which the gospel contains, is most perfect iti itself, and most wisely adapted to the exigencies of hu- B 2 man 20 SERMON I. man nature. It reaches to the thoughts ami intents of the heart ; it prescribes with a minuteness and accuracy which leaves no room for misconception, the conduct pro- per for all the situations in which we may" be called to act ; and it enforces its pre- cepts by motives the most awful and the most interesting, which can operate on the mind. Now, to unfold this system in de- tail, to apply it to the varying circumstances of the times, to explain its sanctions, and to prepare men, through the practice of it,. for glory, honour, and immortality, is the chief employment of preaching. And, therefore, the pulpits of Christendom are, from their very nature, so many schools of virtue, in which the people at large are re- gularly trained to all the duties of private and of public life — to obey magistrates, to love their country, to be sober, pious,^ and benevolent, to discharge, with fidelity and on principle, w^hatever they owe to the sta- tion which they occupy, atid to be fruitful in every good work. '* But where," it will be said in derision, *' where are the blessed fruits of this insti- " tution to be seen ? Are we to gather them S E R M O N I. %i *' them in the history of the church, from " vile and ever-recurring scenes of false- " hood, treachery, persecution ? Or, shall *' we find them in the selfishness, the du- " plicity, the bitter calumnious raihngs of *' the Christians with whom we live ? " — On this point, my brethren, I have no de- sire to disguise the truth. The conduct of Christians, it is deeply to be lamented, has in too many instances been a reproach to the gospel. T/je word of the kingdom falling by the way side^ on stony places^ or among thorns^ is checked in its growth by the unbelief, the levity, or the unhallowed passions of those \^ho hear it : And the preacher of righteousness, mourning in sadness over the apparent inefficacy of his labours, has been often heard to complain with the Prophet, Who hath believed our report^ and to whom is the arm of the Lord revealed P Yet, though such complaints have been often made, and though there be still too much ground to repeat them, we are not to conclude rashly, that the preaching of the word has been in vain. Its natural tenden- cy, though opposed and crossed both by per- 5V'ersions of the gospel itself, and by unto- . : B 3 wBrd 22 SERMON I. ward circumstances from, without, has pre- vailed to a certain extent, and produced a visible improvement on the moral condi- tion of mankind. Without dwelling on the peace which it brings into the pious heart, and on the order which it diffuses through all the walks of private life, though obviously of great importance to the happi- ness of the world, we have only to look at the public state of nations, to be satisfied that tbe word of the Lord hath not returned unto him void^ but hath prospered in the thijig where^ to he sent it. It is difHcult, indeed, to estim^ate the pre- cise effect which the preaching of the gos- pel has produced in itiis respect. Its opera- tion being internal, and silent, and gradual; and combined at the same time with other principles of improvement, is apt to be o- verlooked by the careless and superficial observer. But its influence, though silent and unostentatiousjhas, without controversy, been great and salutary. It is the chief in- strument which Providence has employed for counteracting the numerous and over- whelming powers of corruption, that in- creasing wealth and luxury have poured out on SERMON I. 23 on modern times. Aided by the divine spirit, it begins by reforming the hearts of individuals ; and the reformation of indivi- duals gradually extends its effects, in vari- ous channels, through the wider circle of the community. Accordingly, the reform ming power of this Institution on the na-^ tions who enjoy it, may be read in the im- proved form of their governments ; in the superior equity of their laws ; in the der cency and humanity of their public cus- toms ; in the suppression, or, at least, in the concealment of their offensive passions ; in the efficacy of their regulations for the hap- piness of domestic life ; in the extent of their plans for diffusing through all ranks, the blessings of instruction ; in the godlike magnificence of their establishments for the relief of sickness and poverty ; and in the general order and security of every depart- ment of the state. These are the great pub- lic effects by which the sum of moral prin- ciple in a community can be estimated; and if, in these respects, the states of Chris- tendom be compared with any other state that has ever appeared on the surface of this earth, the conclusion will be irresistible. B 4 Other 24 SERMON I. Other causes may, no doubt, have co-ope- rated in the production of these effects; but it is impossible not to regard as the primary and chief cause that institution which is pe- culiar to the nations who have experienced them, which has the moral improvement of men for its immediate object, which ex- erts a constant unceasing influence on the public mind, and which brings to the sup- port of the magistrate and of the laws a power of boundless force — a power which speaks directly to the conscience, which o- perates in private as effectually as in public, which places us continually under the im- mediate eye of our Judge, and in habitual view of all the encouragement, and hopes, and terrors of the gospel. In this short imperfect estimate of the advantages which result from the preach- ing of the word, I have paid little atten- tion either to the supernatural influence, which we have reason to believe accom- panies it, or to its great purpose, the pre-- paration of our souls for the happiness of heaven ; not because I regard these as con- siderations of inferior moment ; but because they are not directly subservient to the end I have SERMON I. 25 I have in view. That end is to shew the men of this world, that the institution in question, considered merely as an instru- ment of mehorating the present condition of our race, produces the most extensive and valuable effects ; and that those who vihfy it, either by their doctrines or their conduct, whatever illumination they may boast, or whatever pretensions to humanity they may assume, are not men of true wis- dom, and not friends to the general im- provement of their kind. It must also be here observed, that preaching is only one of the powerful means employed by the teachers of Chri- stianity for promoting the reformation and comfort of their brethren. By various other services, they minister to the edi- fication of those among whom they labour, lifting their supplications to the throne of grace, soothing them in affliction, counselling them in difficulty, reclaiming them from their wanderings, w^atching over the education of the young, cheer- ing the hearts of the aged and the poor, jand, in the hour of alarm, becoming to thtm all messengers of peace between God and 26 SERMON I. and their souls. Now, if their office be so conducive to the pubhc good — if so much depends on the successful conduct even of a single department of the duty belonging to it, how important is the station which they occupy ! And how deeply does it concern the community at large, that its functions be duly encouraged and dis- charged ! With what zeal should they, who devote themselves to it, labour to ac- quire the qualifications which become it ! And how strenuously should they apply them to spread light, and virtue, and joy through the circle in whitih they are ' placed ! Fellow workers with God in ad- vancing the happiness of his rational off- spring, they need the strongest, the most improved, and the most active talents ; and in contemplating the charge com- mitted to them, how often are their hearts ready to sink, least their ignorance, or error, or negligence should uphold beyond its time the kingdom of darkness around them, and be the means of retarding the destined perfection of their race I But if this view of the importance of the ministerial office suggests to the teacher 5 of SERMON I. 27 of religion the activity and zeal which are due from him, it demonstrates, at the same time, the respect in which he ought to be held by all who feel an interest in the success of his labours. They are bound not only to co-operate with him in- his beneficent efforts, by yielding to him their attention and countenance ; hat to esteem him very highly in love for hii work's sake^ and to make the provisions which are necessary for his temporal accommodation and comfort. Like every other man, who devotes his time and talents to the public cause, he is justly entitled to a remuneration proportioned to the value of his services ; and, throughout the Chris- tian world, his title to it has been uni- versally recognized. In our own land, the wisdom of the State has made a moderate, indeed, but secure establishment, for the personal subsistence of those whom it en- trusts with the office of public instruction^ The enlightened piety of our immediate fathers had even led them to devise means for comforting the departing servant of God, with the assurance, that his widow and orphans will not be left, by his death, altogether £8 SERMON I. altogether destitute. But still, amid the growing national prosperity, which the light flowing from him had contributed to form, he saw his rank in the scale of society gradually sinking, and on many interesting occasions felt his inability both to do the good, and to enjoy the satisfac- tions for which his station seemed na- turally calculated. In particular, his heart was often wrung with the agonizing thought, that, in consequence of his li- mited income, and the increasing expence of the times, his children must go forth into the world, without the advantages which had secured to himself respectability and independence. From this afflicting cause of disquietude, the benevolent Socie- ty, whom 1 have now the honour to ad- dress, have generously undertaken to re- lieve him. And their undertaking has been blessed by the approbation of their country, and the smile of heaven. They have been permitted to taste already, in all its dehciousness, the feast of benevolent minds ; for they have seen the heart of xnany a venerable parent gladdened by the nieans of improvement furnished to his SERMON I 29 son ; and they behold rising around them for the pubhc service, and consecrated to future fame, many a vigorous plant of genius, which, without their fostering aid, must have languished in the shade, blasted by neglect, unfruitful and unseen. — Sons of the church ! the friends of religion and of civil order rejoice with you in the suc- cess of an institution so useful in itself, so honourable to you, and so worthy of your descent ; the sainted spirits of your fathers, from their dwelling on high, behold it with rapture, as the fruit of those virtuous principles which they planted in your hearts ; and future generations, refreshed by the blessings which flow from it, will rise up to call you blessed. Go on and prosper iii your pious undertaking. And may the Father of the fatherless, from whom Cometh down every good and per- fect gift, open the hearts of the wealthy, and pour abundantly into your hands the means of still more extensive usefulness, tor Christ*s sake ! Amen. SER- SERMON II, John, viir, 31. 32. ■ Then said Jesus to those Jews tvhich believed on kipi: IJ ye continue in my zeord, then are ye my disciples indeed : and ye shall knoxu the truth, and. the truth shall make you free. 1 HIS term, the truth, has various accepta- tions in script;ure. In the text, and in some other passages it is evidently employed to denote the whole system of religious and moral principles which Jesus came to de- hver to mankind. These principles are in themselves of great importance, and our Saviour here asserts, that the man who knows and embraces them shall, through I heir influence, be raised to the possession of genuine liberty. The liberty, however, with which Christ has made his followers free, has sometimes been misinterpreted- It has been supposed to SERMON II. 51 to supersede the subordination of civil au- thority, and to exempt the faithful, from the compulsive restraints of human govern- ment and law. But no supposition can be more inconsistent either with his own prac- tice, or with the whole tenor of his doc- trines on this subject. Did he not himself abstain carefully from all interference with the established civil government of Judea ? Did he not sanction its authority by sub- mitting to it ? and did not his apostles de- clare, in express terms, that the powers which be, are ordained of God ; that they are his ministers for good ; and that we must submit to them not only for wrath, but for conscience sake ? The kingdom of Christ is not a kingdom of this world. He came not as a statesman to new model the political arrangement of the nations ; but as the Sent of God to en- lighten, to reform, and to save the indivi- duals who compose them. By diffusing more enlightened views of human duty, and by improving the character both of rulers and of subjects, his gospel certainly has contributed indirectly to advance the in- terests of civil liberty : but this was not its im- 32 SERMON II. immediate object. The freedom which he came to bestow was not political, but mo- ral— a freedom which unbinds not the body, but the mind ; which is compatible with every form of human government ; which no outward oppression can destroy ; which may be enjoyed even by the slave in his fetters ; and which has far nobler, more du- rable, and more extensive effects then even the best system of civil liberty with which this earth has been blessed. I propose at present to consider the cir- cumstances in which this freedom consists, that we may see how deeply we are indebted to the gospel by which it has been establish- ed. It has delivered us from all the kinds of intellectual and moral slavery which for- merly held the human mind in bondage. ' , I. From the shackles of human authority in matters of religious belief and worship. II. From the yoke of ceremony and sur perstition. ^ >- III. From the bondage of sin — and IV. from the enslaving terrors of the grave. Let us consider these particulars in their order. LThe SERMON II. 33 L The gospel delivers men from the shackles of haman authority in matters of religious belief and worship. Before the appearance of Christ the reli** gious opinions of mankind rested in gene* ral on a dark and unsatisfactory tradition. The worshipper, even in the most enlight- ened periods, knew no reason for the prac- tices he was required to observe, but that they had descended from a former age, or that they were prescribed by the laws of the state. Or if, in some cases, a legend had been devised to account for their origin, that legend was evidently a poetic fiction, which contained no explanation of the practice, and which commonly super- added absurdity to the darkness which fgr- merly involved it. His understanding was not addressed : it had no share in his re- ligious services : without enquiry or in- struction, he was bound, under pain of banishment or death, to submit implicit- ly to the decision of the priests, who announced with oracular voice the cus- toms of his fathers. Such was the situation of the heathen world through all its extent ; nor did the c Jewish 34 SERMON II. Jewish worshipper enj6y a much greater degree of liberty. In the days of our Saviour he was subjected to the authority of the scribes and pharisees, who taught for doctrines the comviandments of men ; and even in the words of his original law, it was, said If there arise a matter too hard for thee in judgment^ thou shalt come unto the Priests and Levites, and enquire : and thou shalt do according to the sentence which they shall teach thee ; thou shalt' not decline from it to the right hand or to the left ; for the man that will do presumptuously^ and will not hear- ken unto the Priest, or the Judge, even that man shall die. This subjection to the opinions of others in matters of religion was a most cumber- some and degrading yoke. It enslaved the noblest part of man, his understanding, and it prepared the way for every other bondage ; for it introduced into the breast of every citizen a foreign power, which had at its command the sources of happiness and misery, and which, by consequence, was able to bend his conduct at its pleasure. You have only to look at the history of I the SERMON II. 35 the ancient world, to see innumerable proofs that as long as the superstition of the times preserved its power, the supposed in- terpreter of the gods had at his disposal the peace of families, the fate of empires, and the movements of the people. From this intolerable bondage the gos- pel has made us ^free. The truth has taught us that the great Father of the uni- verse is no respecter of persons ; that there is no particular tribe of men through whose mediation he dispenses his favours to the rest ; that through the blood of Christ, access to the holiest of ail is opened to every devout worshipper ; and that all who fear God and work righteousness shall be ac- cepted of him. His Vvill, so far as he chuses to intimate it to men, has been revealed to all, not in accidental occui*- rences, nor in ambiguous signs, which re- quire the art of an initiated interpreter^ but in written records, and in plain lan- guage, which he that runneth may read. Though Christ hath appointed in his church an order of men, who give themselves wholly to study and declare the things of God; yet he has entrusted to them no c 2 authority 26 SERMON II. authority over the consciences of their brethren. They are empowered only to stir up your minds, by way of remem- brance, and to call upon you to search the scriptures daily, whether these things he so. The same voice which speaks to them, in the works and in the word of God, speaks to you ; and you have, if you chuse, the same means of understanding it. He from whom all their authority flows, has in express terms, forbidden them to be cal- led masters, because one is the master of the faithful, even Christ. And in compliance with this injunction, his Apostles every where address their hearers as reasonable men, who were entitled and bound to exa- mine, and decide for themselves. Let every man^ say they, be fully persuaded in his own mind. What is not of faith, or of a rational conviction, is sin. I speak as unto wise men, judge ye what 1 say. Try the spirits whether they be of God, prove all things, holdfast that which is good, and be ready always to give an answer, to every one that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you. This unlimited right of judgment, with which Christ has made his followers free, hke SERMON II. 37 like every other valuable talent, may no doubt be abused. It may be perverted by men of wayward dispositions, to the de- ception of their own souls, and employed by the fanatic, to unsettle and corrupt the principles of the wavering and unsteady. It may be made the occassion of endless de- bates, and of oppositions of science, falsely so called, which are injurious to the truth, and minister questions, rather than godly edifying. These are certainly evils : acci- dentally, and through the influence of human passions, they have accompanied the gos- pel in its progress : and the consideration of them, will be to every good Christian a warning to be modest in his enquiries, swift to hear, slow to speak, and careful not to use his liberty as an occasion to the flesh. But he will not, on that account, undervalue or resign the noble privilege, which Christianity has given him. While he endeavours to keep the unity of faith in the bond of peace ; while he respects the opinions and advice of those, who are appointed to rule over him in the Lord; -while he feels, and deeply bewails his own weakness and insufficiency ; yet c 3 he 38 SERMON II. he will think it his duty to enquire and judge for himself. He knows that he has received his understanding from God ; that to God he is accountable for the use of it ; that in the day of decision, every man must answer for himself, according to the opportunities of improvement he has enjoyed ; that unavoidable errors will not be imputed to him; and that if there be a willing mind, it will be accepted according to zvhat a man hath ; and not according to what he hath not. II. The gospel has delivered us from the ' yoke of ceremony and superstition. This was a yoke which, before the ap- pearance of Christ, lay very heavy on all the inhabitants of the earth, and especially on the best and most conscientious men. Look back in thought, my brethren, to the religious bondage of those times, and re- joice in the liberty wherewith Christ has made you free. See even the pious Israel- ite, the worshipper of the true God, groan- ing under the burden of an endless multi- tude of prescriptions, and trembling lest a moment's inadvertence should betray him unwillingly S E R ]\I O N II. 39 unwillingly, into a dangerous transgression of them. Through how many minute burdensome observances must he pass, and from how many harmless actions must he abstain, before the smoke of his offer- ings, can rise acceptably to heaven ! How easily may he taste, or touch, or handle what will defile him and exclude him with shame from the congregation of his breth- ren .' Nay how often is his heart wrung with the fear lest some secret, unobserved ofience may cleave to him, and draw down the wrath of that Holy God, whose sanc- tuary he dares not tread, who cannot be appeased without valuable gifts, and who is to be approached only through the jealous intervention of his ministers ! In this service, how little was there to enlight- en the understanding, or ennoble the affections I How Uttle to chear or elevate the heart I And how justly is it described by the Apostle, as a yoke, which neither the disciples, nor their fathers were able to ' bear ! Was the condition of the heathen world better or more desirable in this respect ? Far otherwise. Even on the most enlighten- c 4 ed 40 SERMON II. ed nations the cloud of superstition hung dark, and awful, and portentous. Their re- ligion sprung from fear, and carried through all its streams the bitterness of its fountain. Among their numerous divinities there was not one whose peculiar attributes were be- nevolence and mercy. They were all ca- pricious, selfish, and revengeful : and the fears of their worshipper appeared in the cruel rites which he employed to appease them, and in the numberless occurrences which revealed to him the intimations of their displeasure. A dream, an omen, any unusual event excited his alarms : the gene- ral darkness which encompassed him, con- verted his alarms into settled terror : and his inability to determine which deity he had offended, in what his offence consisted, and by what means it v/as to be atoned, of- ten raised his terror to distraction and despair. To deliver themselves from this slavish dread, even good men were sometimes temp- ted to cast away from them all thought of religion, and all reverence for God and his worship. With this view Epicurus, in the most enlightened days of Greece, devised for SERMON II. 41 for them a system of philosophical atheism. But did this system improve their condi- tion ? Alas, my brethren, what security could they expect from the vain and mon- strous attempt to stiffle the best and most ennobling affections of their nature ! They soon found that, with the fears of religion, they had cast away its comforts, and ex- changed terror for misery unmixed and hopeless ; that the stillness of scepticism, like the stillness of the grave, is at all times more alarming to the mind than even the spectres of superstition; and that when sick- ness or misfortune irresistibly awaken the sleeping sentiment of devotion, the fears of God return upon them in wrath, and arm the furies of guilt with tenfold vengeance. To the soul pressed down and galled with this intolerable yoke, how sweet is the li- berty with which the Truth has made us free ! It hath destroyed the hand writing of ordinances that was against us. It repre- sents God to us as our reconciled father in Christ, who has no pleasure in the misery of his creatures, who is to be found of them that seek him with sincerity, who bears to us the heart df a friend, and who will not with- hold 42 SERMON II. hold from us any good. It has divested his worship of every thing burdensome or degrading, and left it a pure and rational service, in which angels might join with im- provement and delight. It has taught us to behold the universe as the temple in which he dwells ; to regard all its elements as his ministers subject to his controul ; to dread none of their appearances as indica- tions of vengeance ; to recognise in the earthquake and the storm the commission- ed instruments of his bounty for the pre- vention of still greater evils ; to adore his kindness even in the visitations of affliction; and to see in every event his beneficent arm working for the good of them who love him. We have thus received from the gos- pel not the spirit of bondage again to fear, but the spirit of adoption, whereby v/e cry Abba ! Father ! The privilege is invaluable, and it is our duty to evince our gratitude by our unwearied care to preserve and to improve it. There have been and still are Christians, who, misled by the fears of guilt, have shown a desire to return by va- rious ways to the weak and beggarly ele- ments from which they had escaped. ' Not to SERMON II. 43 to mention the corruptions of darker times, how many are there among ourselves who have converted reHgion into an anxious ser- vice ; whose hearts are oppressed with an endless train of superstitious terrors ; who value the form more than the power of god- liness, and who are again entangled with the yoke of bondage ! Let us, my brethren, shew a worthier spirit. Let us maintain our dignity as the sons of God, and w^or- shipping him in spirit and in truth, let us serve him without fear, in holiness and righteousness before him all the days of our lives. SER- SEUMON III. The sa?ne Subject continued. John, viii, 31. 32. Then said Jesus to those Jews tchich believed 071 him : Jf ye continue in my ivord, then are yt my disciples indeed : and ye shall know the truths and the truth shall make you Jree. 1 FORMERLY obscrvcd that by the Truth is here meant the system of moral and religi- ons principles taught in the gospel ; and that the freedom which it gives, corresponding with the nature of Christ's spiritual king- dom, is not pohtical, but moral. This free- dom is of the most important and valuable kind — far more important to the happiness of man, and far more valuable in itself, than the best system of political liberty which the must enlightened and benevo- lent statesman has ever devised ; it reaches to th(r heart itself; it delivers us from the shackles of human authority in matters of religious SERMON III. 45 religious worship and belief, from the cruel yoke of superstition, from the bondage of sin, and from the terrors of death and the world to come. I have already considered the influence of the Gospel in freeing us from imposi- tions on our faith, and from the dominion of superstitious terrors ; and now I proceed to observe, III. That the truth makes us free from the slavery of sin. The highest conceivable degree of liberty consists in the power of doing without re- straint whatever our unbiassed judgment pronounces to be right. Every impedi- ment to the exercise of it is a limitation of liberty, and every force which overpowers it is a direct cause of servitude : for, in the language of the apostle, by zvhomsoever a man is overcome^ of the same is he brought in bondage. In our present state there are various ob- stacles which restrain us in the free pursuit of what our judgment pronounces to be right. Some of them proceed from with- out, but by far the most powerful and con- stant 46 SERMON III. stant of them proceed from principles with^ in our own breast — from those headstrong, unruly passions which darken our under- standing, seduce our reason, and hurry us into the commission of acknowledged sin. The passions were intended by God to be the servants of reason, — ready at her di- rection to stimulate us in the pursuit of good. In this subordinate employment, they form a very important and useful branch of the human constitution : but when they are permitted to become direct- ing principles, to dispute the authority of reason, and to bend her at their pleasure, they have usurped a throne to which they have no title ; they have become the tyrants of the soul, and the tyranny which they ex- ercise is of the most oppressive kind. E- ven one of them is a hard master ; but they seldom dwell single ; and when a whole legion of them have taken possession of the heart, they hold it in the most cruel bondage. They rule without mercy, — they are insatiable in their demands, — they are at variance among themselves, and issue con- tradictory mandates which it is impossible to execute ; even after the longest life of service^ SERMON III. 47 service, and after strength has failed, they hold their unhappy drudge to his toilsome task ;-^and the rewards which they bestow on him are shame, and sorrow, and remorse. He feels that he is a slave — a miserable de- graded slave, who has fallen^ through his own fault, from the dignity of man ; who is driven, hke the beasts that perish, by the impulse of his passions ; who has no title to the esteem of his brethren, and no confi- dence towards God. Yet it sometimes happens that men sub- mit to this degrading servitude with appa- rent tranquillity, and without any effort to shake it off. Having been the servants of sin from their youth up, they know no bet- ter state : they seem to love the service of their passions : they even glory in their shame, and caress the instruments of their bondage. But are they on that account free ? by no means. Would you call the prisoner free, because he sleeps in his dun- geon, and as he sleeps dreams of the joys of freedom ? or the madman in his cell, who shakes his chains in smiles, and kisses it as the ensign of his dignity ? no more are those sinners tree, who bear without repin* ins: 48 SERMON III. ing the yoke of their passions. Their in- sensibility proves only the woful depth of their debasement, and excites the melan- choly fear that their case is hopeless, and that they will never recover themselves out of the snare of the devil, being thus taken captive by him at his will. But in genera], sinners feel the weight of their fetters, and desire to be delivered. The sense of their misery excites at times a wish, or even a half-formed purpose, to re- sist the dominion of their oppressors. But their wish is ineffectual — their purpose va- nishes at there-appearance of the tyrants who hold them in subjection ; and the struggle which they make serves only to fasten the yoke of bondage closer on their necks. Every defeat weakens their confidence in their own strength ; while the habit of conquering emboldens their oppressors to multiply their claims, prepares the van- quished for new defeats, and rivets on them the chain of slavery. Though they groan beneath their burden — though they often blush at the inconsistency between their prin- ciples and their conduct — and though some- times, in the bitterness of their hearts, they curse SERMON III. 49 curse the folly which has laid them thus low at the feet of their enemies ; yet, conscious of their own inability to become free, they cease at last to form the purpose of resis- tance. At the recollection of what they might have been, they shed, at intervals, a few unavailing tears over their helplessness, and submit again to be driven at the mercy of their task-masters. Hear how justly, and how pathetically the apostle, personat- ing a sinner of this description, bewails their miserable state. / am carnal^ sold mi" der sin ; for that which I doy I allow not ; what I zvonld that I do not ; but what I hate that I do. I Jind a law that when I would do goody evil is presefit with me ; for I delight in the law of God after the inward man : but I see another law in my members^ zuarring a- gainst the law of my mindy and bringing me in- to captivity to the law of sin. 0 wretched man that I am, who shall deliver me fi'om the body of this death f From this vile and most degrading sla- very, this death of the soul, no system of philosophy nor of religion, hitherto known, had been able to give deliverance. The powers of reason, broken by the fall, were p unequal 50 SERMON III/ unequal to the task ; and the law contained in ordinances, was weak through the flesh. But behold, O Christian, to thee, the day of Redemption hath come. The law of the spirit of life in Christ Jesus hath made thee free from the law of sin and death. How soft and reviving to the soul, torn and baffled in the contest with its passions, is the voice with which he calls us to virtue and freedom ! Com: unto me all ye that labour^ and are heavy laden^ and I will give ycu rest, lake my yoke upon youj and learn of me., for I am meek and lowly in heart : and ye shall find rest unto your souh. lor my yoke is easy and my burden is light. To destroy the dominion of sin was the great purpose for which your Redeemer came into the world ; and all power in heaven and on earth is given him to accomplish it. If you submit to his guidance, you shall receive the means of freedom. His doctrines dissolve the false associations, which supported the powers of passion : his promises rouse and re-animate the bef^^r principles within us : liis example guides us in the way to vic- tory : and his spirit — the spirit of truth, strengthens us with might, and enables us - 5 to SERMON III. 51 ro overcome. The conquest indeed which he enables us to make, is not the work of a moment : it is the business ofourhves. The tyrants that lodge within us will make many a powerful effort to preserve their ascendancy. But if we cordially embrace the principles of the gospel, we shall soon find that the chain which held us fast, is broken ; that every day we acquire more and more the self command, which belongs to free men ; that sin reigns no longer in our mortal bodies ; and that we may as- pire with confidence after perfection, know- ing that zvbere the spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty ; and thnt he who hath begun the good work In us, will perform it until the day cf Jesus Christ. IV. The truth niakes us free from the slavish fear of Deadi, and the Judgment to come. Death is emphatically stiled in scripture the king of terrors. The pangs and con- vulsions which accompany it alarm the animal part of our frame : the darkness, with which nature has invested it, startles ^nd pei-plexes the understanding : the D 2 mournful 5<-l SERMON III. mournful separations which it occasions distract the heart : and conscience trem- bles at the terrific spectres which the imagination has placed beyond it. Hence the prospect of it has always been felt by the unenlightened mind as a cause of de- pression which checks the exertion of our noblest powers, and renders our best affec- tions the sources of our bitterest anguish. Both Jews and Gentiles shuddered at the thought of its approach ; and through fear of it were all their life-time subject unto bondage. It is true indeed that nature in all ages longed to be dehvered from this anxious state of terror, and fondly cherished the hope that the desolations of death would not last for ever. It had fancied to itself some shadowy form, which should outlive the stroke of dissolution, and, in a land of shadows, retain the remembrance, and the feeling of its former state. Ail the powers of imagination and of reason were ex- erted to give some colour of plausibility to this pleasing hope, and to fortify the heart against the terrors of the grave. But how feeble, alas ! was the support that SERMON III. 53 that could be derived from speculations like these ! They might amuse the fancy, in the stillness of scholastic retirement, and while the heart was at ease. But they were unfit for use in seasons of trial and distress. They vanished before the messen- gers of death ; or, if they remained, they shed on the grave only a dim disastrous light, which served but to magnify the objects of fear, and to increase the horrors of the scene. How awful to the soul ; how discouraging to every generous emo- tion is the terrible uncertainty, that the friendships, which are now the pride and joy of my heart, may soon close for ever ! that the virtuous improvements which cost me so may toils and efforts may be buried with my body in the grave ! and that I myself in a few years, perhaps in a few days, must either cease to be, or go I know not whither, a prey to dumb for- getfulness, or the victim of some inexor- able demon destined to execute everlasting vengeance on my crimes ! Could the man who lived in this uncertainty be master of himself amid so many causes of alarm ? Could he act from the impulse of an unbi- r> 3 assed 54 SERMON III. assed judgment, and with the dignified ease of a free man ? No^, my brethren, he was the perpetual slave of fancy, at the command of every impostor who chose to take advantage of his terrors, and ready to adopt every superstitious folly that pro- mised him protection or relief. From this bondage also, Christ has made his followers free. By making an atone- ment for their sins, he has disarmed death of his sting, and by rising as the first fruits of them that sleep, he has secured to us the victory over the grave. Discovering the reaUty of a future world, and revealing its connection with the present, he hath ele- vated our aims above this region of mor- tality, and given a new aspect and im- portance to the events which befal us on earth. Its joys lose their power to dazzle and seduce, when viewed through the gloiy that remains to be revealed. Its employ- ments cease to be a burden, because v/e see them leading to an endless recompence of rew^ard. And even its sorrows can no long- er overwhelm us, because when compared with the whole of our duration, they last but for a moment, and are means appoint- ed SERMON HI. 5S ed by our Father to prepare us for our fu- ture inheritance. How cheering are these considerations under the severest trials to which we are exposed ! From how many perplexing, anxious, enslaving terrors have they set us free ! What is it, O Child of sorrow, what is it that now wrings thy heart, and bends thee in sadness to the ground ? Whatever it be, if thou knowest the truth, the truth shall give thee relief. Have the terrors of guilt taken hold of thee ? Dost thou go all the day long mourning for thy iniquities, refusing to be comforted ? And on thy bed at night do visions of remorse disturb thy rest, and haunt thee with the fears of a judgment to come ? Behold the Redeemer hath borne thy sins in his own body on the tree j and, if thou art willing to forsake them, thou knowest with certainty that they shall not be remembered in the Judgment against thee. Hast thou, with weeping eyes, committed to the grave the child of thy affections, the \irtuous friend of thy youth, or the tender partner whose pious attachment lightened to thee the load of life ? Behold they are not dead. Thou r> 4 knowest 56 SERMON III. knowest that they Hve in a better region with their Saviour and their God ; that still thou holdest thy place in their re- membrance ; and that thou shalt soon meet them again to part no more. Dost thou look forward with trembling to the days of darkness that are to fall on thyself, when thou shalt lie on the bed of sickness, when thy pulse shall have become low — when the cold damps have gathered on thy brow — and the mournful looks of thy attendants have told thee that the hour of thy departure has come ? To the mere natural man this scene is awful and alarm- ing. But if thou art a Christian — if thou knowest and obeyest the truth, thou need- est fear no evil. The shadow^s which hung over the valley of death shall retire at thy approach ; and thou shalt see beyond it the spirits of the just, and an innumerable company of angels, the future companions of thy bliss, bending from their thrones to cheer thy departing soul, and to welcome thee into everlasting habitations. Why then, my christian brother, why should slavish terrors of the future disquiet thy soul in the days of this vain life which passeth SERMON III. 57 passeth away like a shadow ? The gospel hath not given thee the spirit of fear, but of confidence and joy. Even now there is no condemnation to them who are in Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh, but after the spirit : and when they die, (a voice from heaven hath proclaimed it) Blessed are the dead, which die in the Lord^ from henceforth ; yea, saith the spirit, that they may rest from their labours, and their works do follow them. Such, my brethren, are some of the chief points of that invaluable liberty which Christ came to confer on mankind, and which every good man, whatever be his outward condition, may now actually en- joy. In this imperfect worlds indeed, the freedom of the Christian is still incomplete; because he receives and comprehends the truth imperfectly. But the system of prin- ciples which the gospel contains is fitted to accomplish its object. It is the word which hath gone out of the mouth of the Lord, which shall not return unto him voidt but shall prosper in the thing tvhereto he hath sent it. Even here, in proportion to the degree in which its principles are admitted, they <58 SERMON III. they make the man of God perfect, thoroughly furnished mito every good work : and in the world to come, where every thing which is in part shall be done away, and where he shall know, even as he is known, they will make him free as an angel of God. But alas ! Christians, though this be the natural effect of the gospel when its prin- ciples are admitted with full conviction in- to good and honest hearts^ what reason have we still to J)ewail its apparent ineffi- cacy ! When we cast our eyes abroad through the christian world, and mark the spirit which prevails in it, how little do we find betokening a kingdom of universal li- berty ! we see every where arotmd us tra- ces of the lowest servitude and constraint. Here are slaves of vanity and fashion, bend- ing before the public shrine, and toiling hard by every frivolous artifice to catch the capricious gaze of worthless admiration. Yonder are slaves of ambition, tottering on the narrow summit of power, trembling at the precipices around them, and grasping at the most dishonourable means to save them from the pits that are dug for their fall. On every hand are drudges of vice, driven by SERMON III. 59 by their lusts, lashed by avarice, goaded by cRvy, spurred by resentment, and tossed on the irregular tempestuous wave of sensual appetite, wasting their time on that which is not bread, and their labour for that which satisfieth not. Nay, even in the family of Jesus, and among the most zealous profess- ors of attachment to his cause, we see too often the momentary tremblings of con- viction— the slavish observance of particu- lar days and places and teachers — the un- governable raptures of enthusiasm — the un- charitable boastings of spiritual pride — or the peevish complaining of intolerance, ' prevailing against the liberty wherewith Christ has made us free, and consuming the very bones and substance of religion. — These things, my brethren, ought not so to be. They are remains of the natural slave- ry of man ; they rest on imperfect views of the Christian scheme ; and they are hostile to the best interests of the gospel. Let us cultivate principles more suitable to its ge- nuine spirit, and shew that we know the truth by a oorresponding cbnduct. While our glad hosannahs rise to him who came in the iivime of the Lord to save, us let us worship 60 SERMON III. worship in spirit and in truth ; and, in all the relations of life, let us act as the Ran- somed of the Lord. Freed from the fears of man, from the bondage of passion, and from the terrors of the grave, let us main- tain the dignity of our rational nature, and hold on our righteous course without tur- ning to the right or to the left. We shall thus be armed against all the possible events of this uncertain life. Whether our out- ward circums.ances be prosperous or ad- verse, protected by impartial laws, or de- pendent on the caprice of a master, we shall have liberty within : we shall feel in our experience that the service of God is true freedom : and we shall approach by gra- dual steps to that happy state where, there shall remain nothing to annoy us ; into which fear shall never enter ; and where our freedom shall be perfect and everlas- ting:. Amen. SER~ SERMON IV. Matthew, xxviii, 17. -And xvhen they sazv him, they icorshipped him, but ^ome doubted. Our Saviour had on different occasions intimated to the disciples, that, after his re- surrection, he would meet them in Galilee. As he retired from the celebration of the first supper he said unto them, /ill ye shall be offended because of me this night ; for it is written I will smite the shepherd^ and the sheep shall he scattered ; but after that I am risen I zvill go before you into Galilee. In like manner, the angel who rolled back the stone from the door of the sepulchre, in announcing the resurrection to the women who had come with spices to embalm the body of their master, commanded them to 6^ SERMON IV. go quickly and fell bis disciples He is risen from ttje d:'dd, and behold he gjeth before you into Galilee \ there shall ye see him. And s:>on after, as they were returning home- 'vaud, Jjsus himself appeared to them iu pvison and said, Be not afraid^ go and tell my brethren that they go into Galilee : there shall they see me. There wtc several reasons why Jesus should chuse Gahlee as the place of shew- ing himself publickly tp his disciples. In that district he had spent his youth, and performed the greater part of his mighty works ; and therefore in it he was be'st known, and could find the most competent witnesses for establishing the identity of his person, and the reality of his resurrection. To the eleven apostles, indeed, repeated op- portunities had been given of satisfying themselves on this point bei'ore they left Je- rusalem But satisfaction was to be given to the other disciples also, and there- fore in obedience to their master's injunc- tion, the eleven repaired to Galilee, that in the company of their brethren, his kins- men and neighbours, they might witness ihe fulfilment of his promise. With this view SERMON IV. 63 view they went up to the mountain which he had appointed ; and, as is generally sup- posed, they conducted widi them above tive hundred disciples, by whom he was seen at once. The impression made by the appearance of Christ on this occasion was different on the minds of different persons : and in re- cording it the evangelist discovers the same candour which occurs in other parts of his narrative. He makes no attempt to exag- gerate the conviction which it produced. He tells us fairly that when they first saw him approaching, the eleven who, by pre- vious circumstances, were prepared to re- cognize him, fell prostrate in obeisance to him ; but that some, that is, some of the rest who were with them, doubtedy influenced probably both by the uncoramonness of the event, and by the current belief of the Jews concerning spectral apparitions from the dead. They" needed time for reflection, and opportunity of more accurate observa- tion for the purpose of establishing their belief. And in the present case these ad- vantages were instantly furnished ; for Je- jjus came forward and spakq unto them ; 64 S E R M O N IV. explained to them his authority, renewed to the apostles their commission to convert the nations, and promised the aid of his presence to be with them always, even to the end of the world. It hath often happened in succeeding times, as well as at the beginning, that doubts have darkened the conviction of those who have given but a slight atten- tion to the evidence of the gospel. Such doubts, however, have the most prejudicial effect on both the comfort and the practi- cal influence of the truth. It may there- fore be useful to embrace this opportuni- ty of examining the grounds on which they rest, and of endeavouring to remove them. The doubts which, previously to a full examination, have perplexed the minds e- ven of candid enquirers arise from very dif- ferent sources. Without descending to the minute and captious criticisms which are the offspring of mere petulance and presump- tion, we may find, on a passing view of the subject, four general grounds of prejudice ggainst the reception of the gospel. I. The SERMON IV. 6S I. The poverty and meanness of the ex- ternal condition in which Jesus appeared on earth. II. The unexpected and mysterious na- ture of the doctrines which his system con- tains. III. The imperfection of the evidence by which it is supported. And, IV. Its want of success in accomplishing the end for which it was given. — Let us briefly examine these grounds of doubt in their order. I. The poverty and meanness of the per- sonal condition of Christ and his apostles, have been often regarded as incompatible with their pretensions to the honour of a divine commission. The human imagina- tion readily associates the ideas of divinity and of external grandeur, and is disappointed when they do not appear in conjunction. This prejudice operated with peculiar force against the gospel at its first publica- tion. At that time the cross of Christ was to both Jews and Gentiles a stone of stumbling and a rock of offence. In their imagination dignity of office v/as so insepa- E rably 66 SERMON IV. rably connected with the trappings of ex- ternal rank, that they could not bring themselves to believe that God would em- ploy an unlettered mechanic as the messen- ger of his mercy. Is ?iot this, say they, the carpenter s son f Is not his mother called Mary f And his brethren James and Joses and Simon and Judas f and his sister s^ are they not all with us f and they were offended in hi : This prejudice was still farther increased by the meanness of the persons whom he chose for assistants in the ministry of re- conciliation. Those humble men carried with them to the nations no recommenda- tion from birth, from education, or ex- ternal appearance ; no attractions of speech to captivate the learned, no pliancy of address to conciliate the powerful, no princely pomp to dazzle and seduce the people. Their condition corresponded in every respect with the servile condition of their master, and presented to the eye of worldly men nothing which seemed befit- ting the ambassadors of that mighty Being whose throne is in the heavens, and whose kingdom ruleth over all. By SERxMON IV. Q7 By these circumstances were the mind^ of men prejudiced against the gospel in the beginning ; and their influence, though perhaps less powerful now, is still felt. Though the infidel now will scarcely ven- ture to avow them seriously as reasons for his infidelity ; yet by insinuations and sarcasms he gives sufficient proof that they still pervert his imagination and mislead his judgment. He can still talk of the splen- dor that becomes an earthly ambassador, and ask why it behoved the Son of God to carry his message to mankind in the form of a beggar, and to die, in declaring it, the death of a slave ? This prejudit:e, though it has had ex- tensive influence, is entirely the offspring of imagination. The moment that we apply to it the tests of reason, it vanishes, like the spectre of night, before the light of the morning. It originates in the sup- position that external equipage is the sign of true dignity ; and that God must sup- port his government by the same illusions •which men have found useful for support- ing the subordinations of civil society — a supposition too obviously false to require a E 2 laboured 68 SERMON IV. laboured refutation. Would it have been fit that the divine messenger who came to Wv-an our aftections froixi this world, and to raise us above it, should be himself en- tangled in its vanities ? Or would his superiority to the princes of this earth have appeared more conspicuously through the magnificence of his dress and the num- ber of his attendants, than through his power with a word to heal all manner of diseases, to raise the dead, and to still the raging of the winds and waves ? No, my brethren, the transient distinctions of earth- ly greatness are themselves only of tem- porary advantage ; they are only con- sequences of the imperfection of human things, and secondary means of restraining the disorders of human society. In the direct operations of God they can have no place. He wills, and it is done. Even in the most wonderful of his works, he holdeth back the face of his throne^ and spreadeth his cloud over it. His majesty appears in the simplicity of his instruments, and the superiority of his power displays itself most visibly when he chooses the foolish things of the world to confound the wise, and the S E R M O N ly. 69 the weak things 0/ the world to confound the things that are mighty. In this view, therefore, we have no reason to regard the poverty of Jesus as incon- sistent with the ctiaracter of a heavenly messenger. Nay, when we examine the subject more closely, we find that the station assigned to him was of all others best suited for answering the benevolent purposes of his mission. It qualified him to speak consistently and with due effect concerning the inferior value of worldly goods : It gave him an opportunity of conversing freely with the great body of the people, and of communicating to them his instructions, unfettered by the restraints of dignity : It enabled him to give an ex- ample accommodated, not to a few elevat- ed potentates, but to mankind at large : It placed him in a condition to know from experience, and consequently disposed hhn to commiserate the sorrov/s and trials of the most numerous class of his followers. And it prepared him to become the sacrifice for sin, and to undergo those sufferings by which he was destined to finish transgression and bring in everlasting righteousness, E 3 It 7^0 SERMON IV. It deserves to be remarked still farther, on this head, that the circumstances of Christ and his Apostles afford to us indirect indeed, but convincing indications that the rehgion which they taught descended from heaven. Men of learning might perhaps have devised a liberal enlightened system of religion, and men of rank and power might have given to it a degree of curency among the nations. But what was to be expected from the carpenter of Nazareth, and the fishermen who followed him ? Were we to expect from them, nursed, as they were, amidst the lowest bigotry of Jewish prejudice, an extensive system of religious and moral truth, superior in point of purity, of liberality, and of accommo- dation to human w^ants, to all that the wisdom of ages, and the efforts of cultivat- ed genius had been able to produce ? Were we to expect that under their feeble patronage even a good system, issuing from an obscure, despised corner of Judea, should in a few years overturn the established superstition of the times, extort from the learned of Asia and of Europe a confession of their former ignorance, and, contrary to 2 their SERMON IV. 71 -their supposed interest, convert to the acknowledgement of the truth, the most enlightened and corrupted quarters of the world ? No, christians, this is not the usual course of human things. // was the doing of the Lordy and it is wondrous in our eyes. It was the inspiration of the Almighty which gave them this knowledge. It was his arm which levelled before them the strength of opposition. And the treasure which they carried was his treasure co?n- mitted to earthen vessels — to mean and con- temptible men — for this express purpose xh2it the excellence of its power might be seen to be of God, II. Doubts concerning the truth of the gospel sometimes proceed from the unex- pected and mysterious nature of the doc- trines which it contains. This prejudice has two aspects. It may respect either the kind of subjects that have been revealed ; or the obscurity that still cleaves to them. In meditating on a revelation from <.- ;d, speculative men too often venture to anti- cipate the subjects to which it should refer, and the kind of light which it should con- E 4 vey, 1% SERMON IV. vey, and to reject every claim which does not correspond in these respects to the stan- dard they have formed. Though it be ob- vious that we, who know not the designs of each other, can have no means of foresee- ing the plans of that infinite being whose thoughts are not as our thoughts, and w^hose pavilion round about him are dark waters and thick clouds of the sky ; though we feel that even with respect to natural operations, we can discover only a few steps of his proce- dure by the light of experience ; and though the very end which a revelation may be in- tended to accomplish, lies far beyond the' reach of human conjecture ; yet how often has the infidel, trusting merely to the light of his own preconceptions, sat in judg- ment on the gospel of Jesus, and condem- ned it, because he does not find in it the discoveries which he expected it to contain. Hence the objections against it on this ground have been as numerous and contra- dictory as the pursuits and the wants of those who make them. The Greeks of old sought after wisdom ; and they turned a- way from the gospel with contempt, be- cause it addressed itself to the unlearned, and SERMON IV. 73 and gave no solution of the capcious meta- physical questions which had so long per- plexed the schools of their philosophers. The critic expected to tind in it those fiait- less models of eloquence which he had searched for in vain in the writings of men, and was dissatisfied because it came not in the excellency of speech, and delivered the oracles of God in the artless, but majestic simplicity of plain, unaffected composition. The naturalist still suspects and underva- lues it, because it gives him no new infor- mation concerning the motions of the hea- vens and the material structure of this globe. And the man of worldly wisdom, observing in it no schemes of temporal po- licy, no methods of increasing wealth, no constitutions for the prosperity of nations — nothing, in short, but certain questions a- bout what he is pleased to call superstition and a world to come, like Galiio of old, cares for none of these things, and boldly pronounces that they cannot have deserved the interference of heaven. Prejudices of this class have had an ex- tensive influence, especially among the half learned, in opposing the cordial reception of •74 SERMON IV. of the gospel. And yet nothing can be more unreasonable than the expectations on which they rest. They spring from casual and limited habits of thought, and would degrade the revelation from God into an in- strument of promoting partial ends that are either of little value, or that may be safely left to the ordinary exertion of the human faculties. How much nobler ! how much more useful ! how much more worthy of God are the purposes which we find declar- ed in scripture as the ends of divine revela- tion i We there learn that God has con- descended to instruct his creatures, not in points which excite the curiosity of a few speculative individuals, nor concerning arts which the natural faculties he had confer- red upon them are capable of perfecting : but concerning matters of great, ineffable importance to them all, and of which they could have otherwise had no information — ■ concerning the means of retrieving the ge- neral disaster of the fill, of delivering the race of rational beings from everlasting des- truction, and of restoring them to the image and the enjoyment of their Father. This revelation, into which even angels de- sire SERMON IV. 75 sire to look, may have still other and far higher ends in view. It may perhaps ex- tend its influence to other worlds, and serve purposes of beneficence that are to us still inconceivable. But from what we already see, what reason is there to rejoice in its hght, and to prize it above the accumulated treasures of science and of art ! It hath o- pened our prospect into the invisible world; unveiled to us the perfections, and govern- ment, and laws of the Eternal ; explained the relations in which we stand to him ; in- culcated a pure system of religious vrorship and duty, which is limited by no bounds of time or space ; which is adapted equally to the circumstances of all mankind, and which is able to make us partakers of the in- heritance of the saints in heaven. It is practical in its tendency ; and contains not barren speculations for the amusement of literary minds ; but principles fertile of good conduct, powerful to controul the pas- sions of the heart, and stored w^ith consola- tion against the sorrows of mortality. O the depth of the riches of the wisdom and knowledge of God in Christ Jesus ! it sure- ly becomes us to count all tlnngs hut loss for the 76 SERMON IV. the excellency of this knowledge^ that through it we may he found in him, not having our own rigbie usncss wiAch is of the law^ but that which is through the faith of Christ, the right- eousness of Gud by faith. But granting, it has been often said, the inestimable value of the objects which Christianity pretends to disclose, how come the views which it gives of them to be so obscure ? Even the apostles of Christ ac- knowledge that they speak the wisdom of God in a mystery ; and it is obvious to every reader that in their writings there are many things hard to he understood. How is this in- consistency to be explained? can we believe that God would speak unintelligibly to his creatures, and deteat the very end of his re- velation by veiling it in darkness ? This objection has been often urged triumphantly by the enemies of revelation : I am afraid, it has sometimes received too much countenance from the unguarded language of well meaning Christians ; and therefore it may be proper to examine it with attention, especially as it seems to have originated in a misapprehension of the im- port of scripture. I nl SERMON IV. 77 In that part of the new Testament which is addresbed to the Greeks, frequent allusion is made to the mysteries, the most solemn religious institution of their country. In these mysteries, to which none were admit- ted without previous purification, certain divine truths were inculcated by the priests for the purpose of teaching the worshipper, * how to live with comfort, and to die in * hope.' These truths, before unknown to him, were revealed at his initiation into the mysteries, and made palpable to his senses by the splendid representations which accom- panied them. Now in this respect, say the apostles, the preaching of the gospel corre- sponds to the Grecian mysteries. Truths be- fore unknown, or veiled under the types of Jewish law — even the wisdom of God that had been hidden from the foundation of the world, are now made manifest to all nations for the obedience of faith. To us it has been given to know the mysteries of the kii:.jdom, and we open our mouths boldly to declare them. It is a mistake, therefore, to suppose that the apostles lepre- sent the doctrines of Christ as still mysteri- ous and incomprehensible. Their uniform language 78 SERMON IV. language is, the mystery is revealed, and all ■ men are commanded to come to the know- ledge of the truth and to be saved. It is true that innumerable questions may be put respecting the facts contained in the gospel, and to which no wise Christian will venture to give an answer ; because the answer has not been revealed. His situation in this respect, however, is not peculiar. It is precisely similar to that of every man with regard to all the other knowledge he posses- ses. The sources from which we derive our information in these two cases are indeed different. In the one we trust revelation for ultimate facts ; and in the other we trust our senses and our feelings. But in both cases, the range of our knowledge con- cerning these facts is precisely of the same extent, and bounded by similar limits. In both we may know clearly the facts them- selves, and the relations they bear to each ©ther, so far as is necessary for our comfort and the direction of our conduct. But whenever we attempt to advance a step farther, either in the world of revelation or in the world of sense, and to determine the nature, ^le manner, and the cause of what is SERMON IV. 79 is represented to us, we find our progress bounded by a line of impenetrable obscuri- ty. You know that you are, and that you have a body and a soul. But can you ex- plain the nature of these substances, or of the union that constitutes them one person, or of the means by which they mutually affect each other .'' You see other men around you, and you feel that by their words they can influence the resolutions and the passions of your hearts. But can you tell how this happens, or why mere sounds, which are but agitations of the air, have the power of producing such effects ? You be- hold the earth covered with verdure, grass growing for cattle, and herb for the service of men. But can you tell either how the grass grows, or serves for nourishment, or chang- es into flesh and sinev/s and bones ? No,. my brethren, on these points, and all others of a similar kind, the most enlightened phi- losopher, though he may have unveiled some steps of the process, and learned to pronounce some hard names concerning it, is at bottom, and with regard to the real acting causes, as ignorant as the most unin- structed of the people. Your ignorance on these 80 SERMON IV. these points, from being familiar to yoUj may pass unobserved ; but it is not on that account less real. If this then be the condition of all our knowledge, why should we expect that our knowledge of divine things should form an exception to the general law, and that the facts of revelation should be more explicable by us than parallel facts in the world of sense ? These facts constitute all that is ne- cessary to impress our hearts and direct our conduct ; and they are recorded in scrip- ture with sufficient clearness and precision. That God is, and governs the world ; that , though strictly one, he manifests himself under the three characters borne by the Fa- ther, the Son, and the Holy Ghost ; that in the character of Son he interposed, in human form, to make atonement for sin, and to ransom from destruction the race he had created ; that as the Holy Ghost, he renews them in the spirit of their mind, comforts them in sorrow, and aids them in the struggles of virtue ; that men are destined for immortality ; that the domi- nion which death exercises over them is to be subverted, and that they shall all be re- called SERMON IV. 81 called from his cold embrace to stand before their Judge, and receive according to the deeds done in the body — These are facts of which a Christian who beheves the scripture can no more be ignorant, than he can be ignorant of the objects that strike his senses ; and our inability to explain questions of speculative curiosity respecting them can no more intitle us to reject them, than our inability to explain similar ques- tions respecting sensible objects can entitle us to reject the existence of the material world. In both cases we know all that is essential to our happiness ; and we ought not in either case to cast from us the gift of heaven, because it is not equal to our wish- es. Secret things belong unto the Lord ; but the things that are revealed belong to us and to our children, that we may do them. It is obvious then, my brethren, that the prejudice entertained against Christianity on account of the nature and abstruseness of its doctrines has no just foundation. It arises from a vain desire to overshoot, in this department of knovv^ledge, that limit which the wisdom of heaven has fixed to all our enquiries in this world. The only F reasonable S2 SERMON IV. reasonable question therefore on the subject must relate, not to our power of explaining these doctrines, but to the evidence on which we believe that they have actually been revealed. If that evidence be suffi- cient in kind and degree to support our faith, we are bound to receive the facts which rest on it, as just principles of action, and as a valuable portion of our in- tellectual treasure. On this point, how- ever, complaints have often been made, and sometimes by pious and well disposed men. They have entertained a prejudice against Christianity, because III. They think that the proof of its descent fi'om God is not so explicit and convincing as might have been expected. I shall proceed to the consideration of this prejudice m my next Sermon. SER. SERMON V. The same Subject continued. IVIatthew, XXVI 1 1, 17. And when they sazc him, they zvorshlpped hm, but some doubted. X NOW proceed, as I proposed, at the con- clusion of my last Sermon, to consider the prejudice which has been entertained, and sometimes by pious and well disposed men, against Christianity, because They think that the proof of its descent from God is not so exphcit and con- vincing as might have been expected. If the merciful Father of all, say they, had intended to make a revelation to his creatures, he would have accompanied it with such commanding evidence that no room would have been left for suspicion or doubt concerning its origin. The Lord of nature would have entered on his bene- F 2 iicent 84 SERMON V. ficent work with irresistible attestations to his authority : his commission would have been written in the skies : the sign from heaven would have been given to the de- mand of his contemporaries : and earth, through all its regions, would have beheld in future times unquestionable proofs of his mission : for a revelation that cannot be infallibly distinguished from imposture is equivalent to no revelation at all. Such has been the language of those who have paid but little attention to this subject. They forget that the evidence which they require is not compatible with the circumstances of man ; that it is un- like all the evidence which providence has given for directing his conduct ; and that the gift of it would be pernicious, by pre- cluding the due exercise of his understand- ing, and annihilating the very principles of his moral constitution. I admit readily that the evidence which supports the divine authority of the gospel does not instantly and irresistibly compel the assent of the understanding. Even candid men may fairly question its validity. But I maintain that this defect (if defect it may SERMON V. 85 may be called) is inseparable from the sub- ject, and common to it with every branch of our practical knowledge. All the in- formation which, in the ordinary affairs of the world, moves the springs of action within us may be resisted. Our conclusion is the result of a comparison betw^een con- flicting circumstances, and is liable to much uncertainty and doubt. It is only in cases of pure abstract speculation that infallible and necessary conviction can be found. Wherever we are called to act, either in the pursuit or in the defence of happiness, we must trust to inferior evidence. We must have recourse, not to demon- stration, but to dubious inferences from testimony, experience, and analogy. Pro- babihty is the great guide of human con- duct, and it is wisely appointed that we must accept it in all the most important concerns of our present condition.- — What, my brother, is the blessing which you reckon most valuable on earth, and on which you have set the warmest wish of your heart ? Is it health of body r And does either you or your physician know, with infallible certainty, the pre- F 3 cautions S6 SERMON V. cautions which will preserve it in vigour, or the medicines which will restore it when lost ? Are you toiling for fame, or labouring to heap up a fortune ? And can you point out any scheme, that in spite of every accident, will invariably put you in possession of them ? Can the soldier, when he girdeth on his armour, boast like him that putteth it off? Can the merchant predict that the speculation, on which he has entered, will be infallibly crowned with success ? Can even the husbandman, who has the promise of God that seed-time and harvest shall not fail, look forward with assured confidence to the expected increase of his fields ? No, my brethren, in these and in all similar cases, our resolu- tion to act can be founded on probability alone, and on a probability so much the feebler, that the accidents which beset all human plans are incalculable : For, under the sun of this uncertain world, the race is not to the swifts nor the battle to the strongs neither yet bread to the wise^ nor yet rich- es to men of understandings nor yet favour to men of skill ; but time and chance happen to them alL There SERMON V. 87 There can be no doubt, then, Christians, that, in all the most important business of this Ufe^ we must submit to be guided by- information founded on imperfect evidence. We must balance probabilities against each other ; and our obligation to act or to tor- bear, can result only from our estimate of the preponderance. If, then, this be the case with all the most important interests of this w^orid, why should we expect -that the interests of the v.orid to come should be placed on a different footing ? Is it not rea- sonable to believe, that the measures of the divine government are uniform ? that in similar circumstances similar modes of ope- rating will appear ? that the appointed means of human improv.^ment will be marked throughout with the same charac- ters ? and that, consequently, our power of distinguishing and pursuing our eternal happiness will be subjected to the same im- pediments which affect our discernment and pursuit of happiness in the life that now is ? Nor have we any reason to be dissatis- fied that our Creator has left us in this state pf comparative uncertainty concerning the r 4 means 83 SERMON V. means both of present and of future enjoy- ment. He has given, with respect to both, evidence sufricient to determine the choice of candid and attentive men : and more perhaps could not have been given, with- out destroying that balance among our mental powers which fits us for improve- ment. The obscurity, which rests on the issue of all temporal projects, was ordained in wisdom. It is the great spur to intel- lectual exertion. It creates those difficul- ties which exercise and sharpen the facul- ties of the understanding, and makes room for all that diversity of talent in the man- agement of business, which is the orna- ment and the blessing of human society. The imperfect evidence therefore which accompanies our practical knowledge of temporal things is essential to our best in- terests. And we have reason to believe that advantages of no less importance re- sult from a similar imperfection in the evi- dence of religious truth. It leaves room for that exercise of candid attention and judgment which constitutes the trial of the understanding, and gives to faith its genu- me value. It preserves a due balance be- tween S E 11 M O N V. S9 tween ihe objects of sense and the objects of eternity. And it prevents the affiiirs of this world, destined, in its present form, to be the scene of our improvement, from being totally deranged by the overbearing splendour of the state which is to follow them. Nay, the obscurity to v/hich I now re- fer is indispensibly necessary for preserving- untouched the principles of our moral con- stitution. Had the evidence of Christiani- ty been irresistible and beyond all possibi- lity of doubt, where would have been that freedom of choice, which is the highest pre- rogative of our rational nature, and which is requisite to constitute us proper subjects of reward and pvmishment r The accountable condition of man would have been totally destroyed by it. Though he would still be subject to the laws of heaven, his obe- dience would be no longer voluntary. Like that of the inferior creation, it would be the mere effect of compulsion. It would not consequently deserve the name of vir- tue : it could have no moral value ; nor form any ground to him either of consola- tion or of hope ! go SERMON V. It follows then that this kind of evidence which the sceptic requires is not suited to the nature of religion, and that any revela- tion which pretended to give it would bear on its face irrefragable proofs that it did not come from God. But though religion does not admit of evidence absolutely irresistible either in kind or degree ; yet it ought to be ra- tional ; that isj it should furnish proofs suffi- cient to satisfy a reasonable mind, and to lay a just foundation for moral conduct. The case here is precisely similar to the business in ordinary life. Superiority, not infallibility, of evidence creates }/our obli^ gation. For the purposes of action, you must candidly weigh the probabilities, and allow your mind to be determined by that which preponderates. — Would you thinl; yourself at liberty to neglect the interests of your family ; because you foresee diffi- culties in every plan that presents itself to your choice ? Do you refuse to lend out your money, or to vest it in schemes of profit ; because in the course of worldly accidents, there is a possibility, or even a hazard that it may never return to you ? 5 Would SERMON V. 91 Would your conscience permit you to ne- glect the defence of your country, because you may not see the wisdom of all the measures that are adopted by your rulers for that end ? And^ can you then believe that you may safely neglect the great sal- vation, and the interests depending on it ; because you meet some difficulties in the evidence which establishes its descent from heaven ? No, my brethren. In all such cas- es, the path of duty is clear, and a fair im- partial mind will not hesitate to pursue it. It will balance all the circumstances : it will select the general conclusion to which they lead ; and without waiting for the re- moval of every minute scruple, it will act instantly and without fear, on the impulse which that conclusion gives. Now, if we adopt this reasonable rule of judging respecting the evidence of revela- tion, there can be little doubt concerning the consequences that must follow from it. This evidence, I have already slated, is, from the very nature of things, and for the wisest purposes, mingled with some imperfections -^ but when weighed in the scale against the doubts which oppose it, it possesses a most manifest 92 SERMON V. manifest prq^onderance. On the one side we have only difficuhies without one parti- cle of direct evidence : on the other we have proofs of powerful weight, and of the same kind with those which determine all the most interesting and solemn transac- tions of this world. As soon as we open our eyes, we see around us a system of re- ligious truths, which reason could not have discovered, universally directing the judg- ments of the people, and regarded by them as a revelation from God. We feel that the principles, which this system inculcates, are consistent with each other and with the , best affections of the human heart ; that they are admirably suited to the circum- stances of our present condition, highly conducive to the perfection of our moral powers, in all respects most worthy of the origin which they claim, and therefore, not unlikely to have descended from on high. These principles we can trace, by the most unquestionable historic evidence, to an hum- ble uninstructed GaUlean, who, as a man, could never have devised them ; but who claimed to be received as a messenger from God ; and who, according to the undeni- able SERMON V. 93 able acknowledgement of his contempo- raries, authenticated^his claim by every proof which we can conceive as indicating a di- vine commission — by a life free from every stain of human infirmity — by the most ex- act fulfilment of an extensive series of an- cient predictions which met in him, as in their center — and by the public perfor- mance of many miraculous works, which no man could do unless God were with him, and which according to the unani- mous and well sifted testimony of those who saw him, were crowned in the end by his own resurrection from the dead, and by his triumphant return to the place from whence he came. This, christians, is evi- dence of a very satisfying kind. Confirmed as it has been, in all its parts, through the most jealous and penetrating scrutiny, it bears on it the genuine stamp of heaven, and imposes on every reflecting mind an obligation to act conformably to it. Let us therefore open our hearts to its influence ; and embracing the truth in the love of it, let us receive it not as the word of man, but as it is in truth the word of God, that it 94 SERMON V. it may work in us effectually to the sanc- tification of our spirit and to eternal life. But those who doubt concerning the truth of Christianity seldom fix their eye steadily on the direct evidence by which it is sup- ported. They turn aside to irrelevant cir- cumstances connected with it, and perplex themselves because these circumstances do not correspond to the anticipations they had formed. Hence we find them objecting to Christianity still farther IV. That it has in a great measure failed to produce the effect for which it pretends to have been given, and that, therefore, it cannot have come from that God who doeth according to his will in the- armies of heaven and among the inhabitants of the earth, and whose purpose nothing can de- feat. Had he commissioned his Son to en- lighten and reform the children of men, his zvord would not have returned unto him void ; hut would have accomplished zvhat he pleased^ and prospertd in the thing to zvhich he sent it. The whole force of this objection evi- dently rests on the assumption that God could not be the Author of Christianity, unless SERMON V. 95 unless he had intended to produce a much more complete and extensive reformation than has in fact resulted from it. But on what ground have we a title to make this assumption ? It is obvious that the light of nature can give it no support, because the whole purpose and scheme of revelation is totally beyond the sphere of its discovery. And revelation itself, so far from support- ing it, has expressly declared that the reli- gion of Christ would meet with great oppo- sition ; that be was set for a sign to be spoken against ; that bis word would not profit unless mixed witb faitb in tbem that beard it ; that even of those to whom it should be preach- ed y^ze; would find the narrow zvay that leadeth unto life ; and that many would say unto him^ Lord, Lord, who should never enter into the kingdom of heaven. To this objection', there- fore, it might be sufficient simply to reply, that it rests wholly on an unfounded suppo-^ sition, and can therefore have no effect whatever in the scale of evidence against the gospel. But as pious men have sometimes per- plexed their minds with difficulties which take their rise from this prejudice, it may be 96 S E M M O N V. be useful to examine it more carefully. For this purpose we shall consider separate- ly the two charges into which it naturally resolves itself : Christianity has not reform- ed the conduct, even of those among whom it has been received ; and there are many nations of the earth to which it has never been able to convey any portion of its in- fluence. As to the first of these complaints, that the gospel has failed in reforming even those among whom it has been received, we must admit that the fact, to a certain extent, is indisputable. The lives of chris- tians are too often a reproach to their pro- fession. Deceit, and hatred, and impurity still maintain too extensive an influence in the world ; and from christian lands the sigh of the oppressed, and the voice of blood, shed without cause, still rise to heaven crying for vengeance on the inhabitants of the earth. But though Christianity has not totally killed the roots of corruption in the hearts of its professors, it cannot be se- riously maintained that no beneficial effects have resulted from it. Is it a thing credi- ble in itself that principles so pure, motives I so S E R M O N V. 97 so penetrating, hopes so sublime and ravish- ing can mingle daily and hourly with the springs from which our actions flow, and yet communicate to them no tincture of estimable qualities? can any candid, en- lightened man compare the state of Chris- tendom, corrupted as it is, with the state of heathen countries, either in ancient or in modern times, and not be struck with the obvious difference between them ? History indeed exhibits a melancholy picture of them both ; but history, from its very nature, is chiefly a register of the passions, and con- tests, and crimes of nations. It gives no just view of the private condition of the people, nor of the moral principles by which they are habitually guided. These principles paint themselves more correctly on the sys* tem of their laws, on the character of their institutions, and on the general comple- xion of their usages and manners. And if in these respects we compare the state of christian countries with that of the most celebrated nations in the heathen world, we shall perceive at once the benignant influ-^ ence of the gospel. By refining the moral taste of the people, it has paved the way for G many m SERMON V. many salutary changes on the whole of their condition. Through this channel it has gradually communicated a portion of its e- quitable and humane spirit to the civil and criminal jurisprudence of all the nations who have embraced it. It has banished H~ centiousness and obscenity from the temples of religion, their former licenced abodes. It has smoothed the face of war, by pro- tecting the captive from slavery, and com- municating to the vanquished the rights of brethren in Christ. It has reared, on firm- er foundations, hospitals for the sick, and receptacles for the poor, and schools for the ignorant. It hath improved beyond con- ception the condition of domestic life by the prohibition of polygamy and causeless divorce. By raising the fenlale sex to their due place, as partners of man in the road to immortality, it hath restored at once re- spectability and comfort to one half of the rational creation. Through its day of rest, it conveys to the labourer refreshment and spiritual wisdom. To the afflicted it im- parts patience and fortitude by the hope of that heaven for vv^hich the sufferings of life arc destined to prepare him. And by the whole SERMON V. 99 whole tendency of its doctrines and institu- tions, it hath spread through all ranks that general regard to decent and beconaing conduct, which has either totally extirpated many of the most offensive and abominable vices of the pagan world, or driven them into the shade of concealment. It cannot therefore be said with truth that christiani" ty has failed in its design of reforming those who receive it. No, my brethren, the christian world, in point both of intellectual and moral culture, rises far above all the other portions of this globe. And its inha- bitants, wherever they go, behold the slaves of superstition, regarding them with reve- rence, overawed by the superiority of their attainments, and bending before them as beings of a higher order. But why, it may be asked, is its effect in- complete ? Why do not the lands blessed with its light, display a perfect image of paradise, and shine with all the beauties of immaculate virtue ? The reasons are obvious. Christian coun- tries are still full of men who knov*^ not the gospel. And of those who know it, how many are there who care for none of these G 2 things 100 SERMON V. things ! how many whose minds are blind ed by the God of this world ! how many who have erred from the faith, and pierced themselves through with many sorrows ! As it was of old, so is it now ; They were not all Israel^ who were of Israel : neither are they all christians who name the name of Christ. And why should we expect that, in these circumstances, the full effect of christian doctrine should be seen ? Can it be required to operate where it is not ad- mitted, or to purify the hearts of those who labour to subvert it ? Tares, for the wisest purposes, are still sown with the wheat. They must grow up together until the end of the world. And till that predicted pe- riod come, the righteous cannot form a pure and perfect society, where Christ shall reign in visible majesty, and into which shall not enter any thing that defileth or that work- eth abomination. But it has been often said, why has not God rendered Christianity more irresistible ? Why has he not compelled the reluctant to come in, and to submit themselves to the sceptre of his grace ? Alas, my brother of the dust, dost thou not perceive that this question i SERMON V. 101 question, in its consequences, affects not Christianity alone, but the whole plan of the divine government on earth ; and that at bottom, it is equivalent to the question, why free agents, like men, occupy a place in the creation ? Tn no instance dost thou see the Almighty appearing directly in the effects that are produced around thee. A series of means in regular succession is every where employed to accomplish the ends of providence ; and these means are uniform- ly adapted to the nature of the beings on which they are to operate, and of the effect which they are intended to produce. On rational agents, and for the production of moral ends, they can act only in the way of motive. They must leave the choice free. For a compulsive reformation of free agents is a contradiction in terms. By de- stroying the distinction between physical and moral action, it would subvert the very foundation on which moral reformation can rest, and reduce man, in point of virtue, to a level with the inanimate objects around him. The compelling power, therefore, which infidels sometimes require as an appendage G 3 of" 102 SEilMON V. of divine revelation, is totally inconsistent with the present constitution of human na-^ ture, and with the plan of divine govern- ment respecting it. Such a power would convert us into machines which could act only as they are moved from without. It would put an end to the whole moral system, and through it to the source of whatever is most attractive and ennobling in the visible universe of God. But though the infidel must admit that a religion intended for the moral improve- ment of men cannot employ compulsive means ; and that those whom Christianity addresses may, therefore, through their own fault, fail to draw from it all the advantages which it is fitted to impart ; yet he is still disposed to rejoin, with an air of triumph, Why have not the whole race had an op- portunity at least of profiting by what it re- veals ? why have not its advantages, such as they are, been universally disseminated ? God, surely, is no respecter of persons : he is the common Parent of all his children ; and there can be no reason for withholding from any of them the means of improve- ment which have been found useful to SERMON V. 303 a few. Why, then, was not his gospel revealed earlier ? and why has the know- ledge of it been confined to a small corner of the earth ? why hath he not given to it as well as to the material sun, a circuit from one end of the heavens to the other ^ and left nothing bidden from its heat ? To this objection it might be sufficient to reply that we are not competent judges of the ways of God, and that there may be many reasons, unknown to us, why he maketh one period of time, and one part ot the earth to differ from another. All ar- guments of this kind, where one of the pre- mises rests upon our ignorance, are un- sound. They are contrary to the establish- ed rules of just reasoning, and would scarcely be entitled to an answer, even though their other premise were an incontrovertible truth. But, in the present instance, where is the evidence on which we can be required to admit the general proposition that God ought to communicate to all his children the same advantages ? Reason surely gives it no countenance, for reason tells us that He who bestows freely, may bestow in the G 4 manner 104. SERMON V. manner and proportion he pleases ; and that the potter hath power over the clay^ out of the same lump^ to make one vessel to honour and another to dishonour. Can we then in- fer it from experience ? Look around thee and see if thou canst discover it, in that endless variety of condition, of talent and of privilege which the works of the Al- mighty every where present to thy atten- tion ? Dost thou not see in the heavens a- bove thee one glory of the sun, and another glory of the moon, and another glory of the stars, and one star differing from another star in glory r If thou confinest thy view to this earth, does not a similar gradation of glories meet thine eye ? even with re- gard to the human race is there any one gift of God in which thou seest all thy bre- thren upon a level ? Is it health, or strength, or riches, or understanding, or good dispo- sition, or the means of intellectual and mo- ral improvement ? It is obvious that, in re- spect to these and to every other endow- ment, there is great diversity. The uni- versal Parent distributes his blessings as to him seemeth meet. He distributes them in proportions which to our short-sighted wis- \ dom SERMON V. 105 dom often appear capricious and partial ; but which multiply the sources of enjoy- ment, and, under his direction, contribute in the result to the wider diffusion of hap- piness and to the greater manifestation of his glory. We have no right therefore either from reason, or from our experience of the di- vine procedure in other cases, to expect that the light of revelation should be com- municated equally to all mankind. Nay, from attention to the history of providence we may see ground for concluding that its diffusion would be slow and gradual. For all the works of God seem to reach their destined perfection by progressive advan- ces ; and in each of them the previous steps of the progress are necessary to prepare the way for those that are to follow. Creation itself, as we learn both from scripture and from the present structure of the Globe, was a progressive work. The different forms of organisation, of vegetable life, and of animal perception were in their turn, and in due succession, superinduced on rude matter, before man arose, blessed with the image of bis maker, and endowed with the new 106 SERMON V. new powers of reason and conscience. WeJ still see miin himself, in consequence of the principles of his nature, and of connections with his kind, advancing through succes- sive steps to new degrees of knowledge, of culture and of happiness. We see that each stage of this advance has its proper place, and can be reached only through the stages appointed to precede it. We behold the light of philosophy, as one of these sta- ges, coming forth late in the progress, and receiving its perfection through frequent interruptions, and by a long succession of circumstances arranged by providence for promoting its improvement. We never suppose that this hght should have shone on rude ages, or that it can be propagated with equal rapidity among all nations, what- ever their intellectual condition may be. Why then should we be surprised at the late appearance of that brighter light which is supplementary to the light of nature^ and destined to remove its defects ? Or why after it has appeared, should we expect it to be instantaneous in its progress, and to per- vade the different tribes of mankind before they have reached the point of cultivation necessary SERMON V. 107 necessary to qualify them for its reception ? The plan of God for the final perfection of our race consists of many parts. These parts bear to each other mutual relations. They have their appointed order and succes- sion, and every land must wait with pa- tience for the glory of its Zion, till the time to favour her, even the set time shall come. To us, who pass away like the flower of the grass, that time may seem to be long pro- tracted. But we ought to know that the human race is more permanent in its dura- tion ; that the arrangements of Gk)d for its improvement embrace an extensive series of events ; that one day is with him as a thou- sand years ^ and a thousand years cs one day ; and that in his plan of mercy, a period is fix- ed when the earth shall he full of the knozv ledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea. On this point the pious and well instruct- ed Christian has no ground for apprehen- sion. He knows that his religion is, from its excellence, and from the nature of its in- stitutions, fitted to become universal. He has already seen the arm of God going forth with it, and subjecting to its power all the most enlightened kingdoms of this dobe. 108 SERMON V. globe. He sees it shining already, by indi- rect reflections, through the darkness of heathen countries. He beholds especially many of its most essential principles, and even the belief of its descent from heaven retained amid the corruptions of the Ma- hometan delusion, and spread with this de- lusion through nations that are not qualified to receive the truth in its purity. He observes, in the gradual diffusion of know- ledge, of arts, of commerce, and of civiUsa- tion, means preparing in secret for its far- ther triumphs : and confiding in the pro- mise of the Omniscient, he anticipates the day when all the ends of the world shall remember and turn unto the Lord ; and all the kindreds of the nations shall worship before him. In the mean time, satisfied that God is just, and that from them to whom little has been given, the less will be required, he re- joices in the hope which the gospel has o- pened to all the penitent. He rejoices es- pecially to think that the salvation which it reveals is not confined to those alone who. have heard of it by the hearing of the ear. He SERMON V. 10.9 He rejoices in the strong reasons which induce him to beheve that the benefits of Christ's death extend far beyond the visible Hnuts of the Christian Church; that he is the iamb slain in efficacy from the foundation of things; that he is the propitiation for the sins of the whole world ; that as in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive, and that, at the last day, many holy men from every land, redeemed by his blood, shall come from the east and from the west, and with Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, shall sit down with him and his apostles in the kingdom of heaven. It appears therefore that the prejudice a- gainst Christianity drawn from its want of success has no better foundation than the rest. All of them, when examined, are found to arise from incorrect views of the divine administration, and of the manner in which a revelation from God ought to accomplish its end. A reasonable man therefore, in estimating the evidence of the gospel, will not think it his duty to pay much regard to them. Turning away his eye from such adventitious irrelative consi- derations no SERMON V. derations, he will fix it directly on the evi- dence itself; and if that evidence appear to him to have any force, he v^ill think himself bound to allow his mind to be de- termined by it. For this is not one of those speculative questions, on which a man is at liberty to suspend his assent. It is an important practical point, where it is not possible for us to avoid choosing our part ; and where the suspension of our assent would in its consequences be equivalent to our rejection of all the blessings which the gospel promises. The alternative here is tremendous. Unless tlierefore we clearly, see — (what no man who considers the sub- ject for a moment will venture to assert) — - unless we clearly see that the evidence of Christianity is a fiction, let us not have the madness to reject the counsel of God a- gainst ourselves. To us it has been given to hear what many prophets and righteous men of old desired to hear, and were not ])ermitted. Let us not be unthankful for the privilege. Let us esteem it according to its true value. And let it be the sincere resolution of our hearts that we will listen to whatever SERMON V. 1 1 1 whatever has been commanded us of God, and that we will walk in all his ordinances blameless. And may his grace preserve us from fal- ling, and enable us to do what is acceptable' in his sight through Jesus Christ. Amen. SER- SERMON VI. IlEBREvrs, xir. 3. Consider him that endured the contradiction of sinners against Jdmself, lest ye he wearied and faint in your minds. jL he life and sufferings of Jesus may be ■ viewed in various aspects, from all of which we might derive valuable materials of me- ditation. At present I mean to consider his state on earth as an image of ours, and the conduct he observed in it as a pattern for our direction and support. In all things he was made like unto his brethren ; and from an attentive consideration of his history in this respect, we receive much interesting and useful instruction concerning the na- ture and design of our present condition ; concerning the temper with which we should bear its various incidents ; concer- ning SERMON Vr. 113 ning our pr wer of bending them to ad- vance our true interest ; and concerning the state of higher perfection for which' they are all intended to prepare us. I. The history of Christ's humiliation may suggest to us that our present condi- tion, even when it seems to be most in^ign- ficant, is intended for valuable ends. The succession of changes which compose the present condition of man exhibits at first view a very perplexing appearance,, It seems to proceed without any order or design, and to lead to no visible conse- quence which may serve as a key to unlock the hidden mystery. We come into life feeble, helpless and dependent, ignorant both of our origin and of our destina- tion. We pass through it on a tide of e- vents v/hich rise and flow on w^ithout our appointment, which are guided by powers foreign to us, w^hich are often in apparent contradiction to each other, and which are soon lost in the tide of new events that are equally inde endent on us, and seemingly as irregular and unconnected as those which preceded them. In these circumstances we H are 114 SERMON VI are extremely apt to undervalue our present condition and its duties ; and to conclude that it is of little importance to ourselves and to the world, in what manner each of us shall act. " Our actions", we say, " are " like light straws which float on the sur- " flice of the stream, and which can nei- " ther stop nor alter its current. Why " then should we disquiet ourselves about *' an order of things on which we have no *' influence ? Why should we refuse our- *' selves ro any pleasure that rises in our " way ? If we be poor, why should we he- " sitate about the employment of any means " that may increase our store ? And if we '* be rich, why should we not enjoy, as we " list, the abundance that has fallen to our " lot. We know not what may happen *' hereafter. Let us eat and drink, for to- " morrow we die". To these corrupting views and conclu- sions the history of the Son of man, when we consider his life as an image of the human condition in general, affords a most power- full antidote. It teaches us that the cir- cumstances of our present life are to be considered as means towards some farther cndj SERMON VL 115 end, and to be estimated by their subser- vience to it ; that we are parts of a great connected whole ; and that every action we perform, however insignificant or un- connected it may appear, forms an impor- tant hnk in the chain of events, and has its proper influence both on our own destiny, and on the general progress and perfection of the system. When Jesus descended to this earth what was there in his appearance that could have led us to regard him as the messenger of heaven ? Did the splendour of his parentage announce the dignity of his mission ? Or did his worldly condition improve as he ad- vanced towards the termination of his ap- pointed work ? No, Christians ! The con- gratulations of the angels on the plains of Bethlehem, and of the wise men who came from the east to pay him homage, must have seemed to his mother and her con- temporaries only as the insult of malicious fortune sporting with his misery. For they saw him compelled to pass his infancy as an exile in a foreign country ; to spend his youth as a fugitive in a remote district of the land, far from the original dwellings of H 2 hb 116 SERMON VI. his kindred -, to struggle throughout Ufe with the hardships of poverty and oppres- sion ; to suffer unexampled persecutions from the calumnies and opposition of those whom he came to save ; and at last, as the vilest of malefactors, to finish his days on a Cross. In the outward circumstances of his lot therefore we find no indications of his superior worth. In this respect Ins visi age was marred more than any man^ and his form more than the sons of men. Yet, during all this time he was the beloved of the Fa- ther, actively employed in promoting the salvation of men, and in executing a most benevolent plan for extending the limits of the moral kingdom. His fate, conforma- ble in all respects to the intimations of an- cient prophecy, entwined itself with the general fate of his country, and with the future destinies of the whole human race. All the parts of it though apparently un- connected among themselves, were close- ly linked to the great end of his mission, and arranged by providence for securing its success. Even his sorrows, through all their details, were conducive to the perfec-. tion of his character and the consumma* tion SERMON VI. 117 tion of his work. For though he was a son ; yet learned he obedience by the things which he suffered ; and being made perfect through suffer i Jig s^ he became the author af eternal sal' vat ion unto all them that obey him. From this view of our Saviour's history, we may learn how to estimate the circum- stances of our present earthly condition^ However unaccountable and discouraging these circumstances may seem, they cannot be unimportant ; for the Son of God appear- ed in them, and gave us an example of the noble ends to which they may be made sub- servient. He hath shewn us that they are the means through which, in our respec- tive stations, we carry forward the plans of providence, and rise to the destined per* fection of our nature. Their value, there- fore, is not to be estimated by the degree in which they display present prosperity or adversity, but by their tendency to produce consequences advantageous to ourselves, and to the great system of which we form a part. Viewed in this light the condition of eve- ry individual, and the part he acts in it, assume an interest and value which are H 3 highly lis SERMON VI. highly pleasing to a virtuous mind. The various lots of men appear through it equa- lized ; and each of us is seen occupying a station, where he has an opportunity of fulfilling the end of his creation, and of promoting the general good of the universe. The question respecting the importance of that station is not, whether it be externally prosperous and successful ; but whether it affords the means of cultivating our talents, and of advancing the designs of heaven. None of us indeed can have an influence on these designs equal to the Son of God. "VVe resemble him not in the extent of our power ; but in the circumstances in which we are called to exert it. These circum- stances, even when they seem to be most unpropitious, are arranged by the wis- dom of providence to suit our particular constitution, and to influence the forma- tion of our character, and through it the fate of our brethren. No man on this earth stands insulated and alone ; nor can any event of his life be without its conse- quence. He is connected with parents, with children, with kindred, with a coun- try, with the community of mankind in this SERMON VI. iiy this world, and with the society of glorified spirits in heaven. His conduct in the sphere which he fills will have an imme- diate or remote influence on them all. It is this influence which communicates va- lue and importance to his condition ; and this influence, as we learn from the history of Jesus, may be as effectual from a cross as from a throne. Let no man therefore complain that his state on earth is of little value. Its value is to be estimated, not by its outward splen- dor or outward meanness, for these are acci- dental and transient ; but by its fitness to exercise and improve the virtues of his cha- racter. It may be poor, and distress^, and covered with misfortunes. And what then? Poverty and distress and misfortunes are in themselves no degradation. They come from God ; they are sent for benevolent ends ; they were the lot of Jesus even when working out the salvation of our race ; and were in fact the appointed means of his success. They may be intended for simi- lar ends in your case. Fulfil, therefore, my Christian brother, fulfil the duties of the station which yoii occupy, whatever it may H 4 be V20 SJERMON VI. be, convinced that it is the station which the wisdom of your Father has chosen for you ; that its value depends on the moral application which you make of it ; that you may obey the will of God in a cot- tage as chearfuUy and effectually as in a palace ; and that the man who obeys his will, though under a covering of rags, is far more acceptable to his maker, and far happier in himself, than the mightiest and most prosperous potentate who neglects it. II. The history of our Saviour's coiiduct may teach us the temper with which we ought to bear the events of our earthly condition. These events, as we have already seen, are often intricate and perplexing. At our entrance upon life we cannot foresee the situations through which we are destined to pass, nor the circumstances of distress or of comfort by which they shall be che- quered. Prosperity and adversity succeed each other apparently in the most capri^ cious forms ; they change intQ each other by sudden and unaccountable transitions ; and the appearances of this day give no cer- J SERMON VI. 12t certain indication of what is to be our for- tune to-morrow. An awful darkness rests on the whole future condition of otir life ; and it is of the utmost importance to have a guide to conduct us through the unknown and unexpected dangers which it may pre- sent to us. For this purpose, Consider, O thou who art disposed to complain of thy fate ! Const* 4er him who endured the contradiction of sin-* n^rs agaitist himself. His life was chequer- ed like thine. Gleams of light issued at times from the black cloud of sorrows that encompassed him, and seemed to promise an evening of prosperity. When he en- tered his Father's temple^ and expelled from it the merchants and the changers of mon- ey, he was obeyed as the messenger of hea- ven. When he fed the five thousand, the multitudes flocked after him, and sought to make him a King, And when at the time of his last passover, he approached the ancient capital of his country, its inhabi- tants went forth to meet him, spread their garments in his way, and welcomed him as the predicted Saviour of their nation. But these temporary gleams of prosperity were soon 122 SERMON VL soon lost amid the general darkness of his fate. The great and permanent features of his earthly condition were deep affliction and sorrow. He had to maintain a struggle with poverty, reproach and pain, in a de- gree far beyond the ordinary lot of man- kind ; and to die at last in the midst of infamy and torture. But with what firm- ness, composure and resignation, did he bear the trials that rose in succession before him ! He viewed them in their just light as the will of God for accomplishing the ob- jects of his mission ; and in spite of the re- pugnance of his natural sensibility, through habitual devotion and prayer, he advanced without shrinking to the trials of obedience. / have a baptism to he baptised with, and how am 1 straitened till it be accomplished ! The cup which my Father hath given 7ne shall I not drink f 0 Father I if thou he willing, remove this cup from me ; nevertheless not my zvill, but thine be done. My meat is to do the will of him that sent me, and to finish his work. In like manner, it becomes us to preserve an equal mind through all the changes of fortune, and especially to suffer with resig- nation and patience the adverse allotments of SERMON VI. i?3 of our condition. Regarding them as ap- pointed in wisdom for our good, we ought to welcome them as the will of our Father. Though we may be unable to pierce the cloud which covers the divine throne, and to perceive the way by which afflictions operate in promoting our improvement, we ought to submit to them as the chas- tenings of God who grieveth not will- ingly the children of men. Though na- ture must tremble at the prospect of their approach ; and though we may pray earnestly to be delivered from them ; yet we ought not to suffer ourselves to ques- tion the benevolence of their appoint- ment, nor to murmur against the provi- dence which permits them ; nor to em- ploy unlawful means for escaping from their attack. Knowing that the path of affliction was hallowed by the Son of God, and looking forward to the glories that en- lighten its termination, it becomes us to tread it with a firm step, practising the suf- fering virtues, and acquiring gradually the steady, devout, and heavenly mind to which it leads. But 124 SERMON Vr. But we must not satisfy ourselves with submitting passively to the current of events. We must labour to convert them into means of advancing our good. And for this purpose Christ III. Has taught us by his conduct that their power over us is not irresistible, and that in the most essential points we may bend them to promote our true interests. On a slight view of human things the sources of happiness and misery seem to lie without — in causes that are foreign to us, and over which we have scarcely any con- troul. Our health depends on that texture of bodily constitution which we receive from nature : our rank in the world de- pends commonly on the rank of our pro- genitors : the security of our persons and of our enjoyments changes with every change in the circumstances of our political condi- tion : and our means both of intellectual and moral improvement, are intimately connected with the general improvement of our country, and the state of society into which we have been cast. May it then be said that our destiny is irreversibly deter- mined SERMON VI. 125 mined by causes that are independent of us, and that all our efforts to alter it must be for ever vain ? No, Christians, the causes of human improvement, and of human happi- ness reside within ourselves, in the energies of a free and virtuous mind. External e- vents furnish only the occasions which call these energies into action, and they may be modified by us at our will. Our life is ap- pointed to be a struggle with difficulties; our glory and our enjoyment arise from, conquering them ; the strength of heaven is ready to assist us in the combat ; and no man who has exerted steadily and with per- severance the powers he received from hea- ven has ever retired from it in defeat. Of these truths the life of Christ affords a striking illustration. If you doubt your power to overcome the obstacles in your way to perfection, contemplate the history of the Son of man. Can your circumstan- ces wear a more unfavourable appearance than his ? He was subjected like you to the laws of the material world, and to the in- firmities of a frail body. He appeared as the descendant of a fallen family. He was bred to a mean occupation, He was the inhabit tant VZ6 SERMON VI. tant of a contemptible village in a country which had never risen high in the scale of improvement, and which at this time lay- bleeding under the disgraceful scourge of foreign domination. Adversity seemed to have collected against him the whole host of her oppressions, and to have withheld from his youthful mind every thing that could tend to awaken its energies, or fire it to generous exertions. But did he sink un- der the difficulties of his condition ? Did he tamely submit to be dragged along by the course of his external fortune ? No. He met the trials of his lot with a bold uncon- querable spirit, and compelled them to mi- nister to his perfection and advancement. At the age of twelve, we find him begin- ning to soar above the disadvantages of his humble rank; and, though a carpenter's son, gathering wisdom from a disputation with the doctors in the temple. At a later period he encountered with success the assaults of the devil, and amid all the persecutions which followed, he maintained the dignity of a free, independent mind, discharging without interruption the duties of his mis- sion, forming the merit that was to pur- chase SERMON VI. 127 chase the salvation of our race, and open- ing even through suffering, the splendid path which conducted him at last to the Father's right hand. The angels of heaven beheld with admiration his struggle with the powers of darkness, and descended with delight to his support. God, who never deserts those who desert not themselves, se- conded the efforts of his virtue, combined the circumstacces that were favourable to his progress, and set him as King on the holy hill of Zion. Let us, christians, in our humble sphere, strive by similar eiForts to bend the course of events to our purpose. Let us regard this world as the theatre of our probation, and its events as the trials through v/hich we must rise to spiritual perfection. In- stead therefore of yielding to them, let us oppose their influence whenever it becomes corrupting ; let us shew that we are not their slaves ; and let us by steady resistance and exertion, form those habits of self com- mand, which restore to the mind its due superiority, and render the most arduous duties easy to be performed. We possess, through the bounty of heaven, a portio/i of the 128 S E R M O N VI. the same powers which resided in the hu- man nature of Christ ; we may rely on the same aid froin on high which strengthened him; and if we do our duty, our father hath promised to cause all things to work together for our good. Why then should you vex yourself about external circum^ stances ? Whatever they may be, it is in your power to bend them to the only valu^ able purpose which external circumstan* ces can serve— to render them the instru-^ ments of virtue, and of preparation for hea- ven. Endure, therefore, through all the varieties of yoUr fortune, as seeing him who is invisible ; implore the support of his spirit in the contest which he thus calls you to maintain ; preserve throughout life the mastery of your mind; and the light afflic- tions of this life, which are but for a moment^ will work out for you a far more exceeding^ even an eternal weight of glory. For vye learn from the history of Christ, IV. That the struggles and exertions of this mortal life conduct him who overcomes to a state of never ending perfection and happiness in heaven. 5 Many SERxMON VL 129 Many circumstances lead us to suspect that the events of this life do not terminate in itself; that they are only parts of an in- completed plan ; and that they extend their influence into another scene where their full consequences will be produced, and where we shall see them in their effects, freed from the darkness and seeming dis- order which now rest on them. Of this connection between our present state and a condition of greater glory hereafter, you have a shining example in the fates of your Redeemer. Though he was despised and rejected of men, yet his earthly labours, unimportant as they seemed, laid the foun- dations of a spiritual kingdom which scon extended over the most enhghtened nations of this globe, and which is still destined to spread, //// ii reach from sea to sea^ and from the river even unto the ends of the world. In consequence of these labours he himself is now seated in the highest heavens, y^r above all principality and power ^ and might and dominion — Being found in fashion as a man^ says the apostle, be humbled himself and became obedient unto death, even the death (f the Cross. Wherefore God hath highly 2 exalted 130 SERMON VI. exalted h'lm^ and given him a name which is above every name ; that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow^ of things in heaven and things in earthy and things under the earth; and that evefy tongue should confess ■ that Jesus Christ is Lord. For the joy thus set before him he endured the Cross and despised the shame. And his followers are encouraged by a similar motive to hold fast their inte- grity through all the temptations which now assail them. Their conduct on earth may, through channels which they cannot foresee, produce important consequences to their families and to their country : it may involve in it the seeds of future im- provement to the whole human race : in all events it will determine the everlasting con- dition of their own spirits, and prepare for them happiness or misery without mixture and without end. For amidst the trials of your earthly pilgrimage, your Redeemer hath called on you to fix your eye on an- other, state of things to which this world is only introductory, and where, in his pre- sence, ye shall receive the recompence of your labours. In my Fathe?^''s house, said he, are many mansions ; 1 go to prepare a- SERMON VI. 131 a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you^ I will cojiie again and receive you unto myself that where 1 aniy there ye may he also. We are left here for a while to receive the education that may qualify us for heaven. Our present condition fur- nishes the means of preparing us for the glories of that bright abode into which shall in no wise enter any thing that defileth or worketh abomination. Its inhabitants, puri- fied by temptation, as gold is purified by fire, shall be all holy to the Lord ; and they shall possess stations varying in dignity accorduig to the degree of virtuous perfec- tion which they have here attained. In. that happy land, blessed are they who have come out of great tribulation, who have washed their robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb ; for they stand be- fore the throne of God, and serve him day and night in his temple. They have ful- filled their appointed task. Thty have done his commandments : and therefore they have a right to the tree of life, and have entered through the gate into the blessed city which the Lamb prepareth for the righteous, and which the glory of God doth lighten. I 2 Such 132 SERMON VI. Such, my brethren, are some of the lights which the history of Christ sheds on the state of man, and on the glorious end to which it shall conduct the good. They are full of encouragement : they exalt un- speakably our conception of the value of our present condition -, and they should in- duce us with willing minds to bear the im- proving, though severe discipline, by which the wisdom of our Father trains us to perfec- tion. Let the consideration of them forti- fy our minds for the conflicts with temp- tation which we may be called to sustain ; let them display their influence in the firm and steady virtue of our future conduct. Then may we expect that God will behold us with approbation ; and that his spirit will descend in gracious influence to en- lighten, to support and to save us. Amen. SER^ SERMON VII. Mattheav^, IV, 1 — 11. Then was Jesus led up of the spirit into the wilderness, to be tempted of the devil. 2 And when he had fasted forty days and forty nights, he was aftei^doard an hungered. 3 And xvhen the tempter came to him, he said, If thou be the Son of God, command that these stones be made bread. 4 But he answered and said. It is written, Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God. 5 Then the Devil taketh him up into the holy city, and setteth him on a pinnacle of the temple, 6 And saith unto him, If thou be the Son of God, cast thyself doxni : for it is icritten, He shall give his angels charge concerning thee ; and in their hands they shall' bear thee up, lest at any time thou dash thy foot against a stone. 7 Jesus said unto him. It is written again. Thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God. 8 Again, the devil taketh him up into an exceeding high mountain, and shexvcth him all the kingdoms of the world. I 3 and 134 SERMON VIL and the gloyy of them ; 9 And saUh unto him. All these things will I give thee, if thou wilt Jail donm and xvor ship me. JO Then saith Jesus unto him, Get thee henee, Satan : for it is xvritten, Thou shah worship thQ Lord thi) God, and him onlij shalt thou serve. 1 1 Then the dtvil kaxeth him, and, behold, angels came anxl ministered unta him. .1 HIS passage contains a very remarkable part , of our Saviour's history. The inci- dents which it records are highly interest- ing in themselves : and though they have sometimes been employed by the enemies of Christianity as an occasion of ridicule and contradiction ; yet when viewed with knowledge and in their proper light, they are full of the most important instruction. Let us therefore examine them with atten- tion, and listen to the lessons which they furnish. The incidents, which are here described, happened at a very decisive period in the life of Christ, He had just left the state of privacy in which his youth, was spent ; his approach as the Messiah promised to the Fathers had been publicly announced 5 to SERMON VIL 135 to his countrymen by the messenger ap- pointed to prepare the way before hirn : the spirit of God had "descended on him in baptism : and a voice from heaven had de- clared, This is my beloved son^ in' who?n I am zvell pleased. The time therefore was come for his appearing on a new scene, as the Teaclier and Redeemer of mankind. To fulfil all righteousness, and to prove him worthy of his office, it remained only that he should be tried by temptation, and that, in imitation of the ancient prophets, he should prepare himself^ by a course of rigid fasting, for the sacred duties he was destined to perform. For this purpose he was led by the spirit of God into the wil- derness, that in solitude and abstinence he might form deliberately the plan of his public life, contemplate in all its aspects the arduous v\^ork before him, and measure his power against the difficulties with which he would be called to contend In these exercises and meditations he spent forty days in the barren desert, nourished only by the fruits which ' it affi:)rded, and exposed to the suggestions of Saian, who in the end collected all his force, and 1 4 assailed 136 ' SERMON VII. assailed the appointed Redeemer of man- kind with the three powerful temptations which are here recorded. It cannot surely occur to us as improbable that this messenger of heaven should be exposed to trials. The plan of redemption rendered it expedient that he should assume the character of a son of man ; and, as man, he was liable to the same tempta- tions which encompass his followers. It became him to be made like unto his brethren in this respect, both that he might be a merciful and faithful High Priest, and that he might set before them an example of resistance and of victory. In the passage before us we see three of the most powerful trials of human virtue brought forth against him and overcome. While at the same time we may learn from his conduct the means which in similar circumstances will enable us to quench the fiery darts of the wicked one, and to stand in the day of temptation. Now, if there be no improbability in the supposition that Jesus should be subjected to trials, neither can it appear incredible that the agent in conducting these attacks on SERMON VII. ISf on his virtue should have been the same maUcious spirit who, in the beginning, de- ceived our first parents, and gave rise to all the wickedness and misery which we observe among their descendants. This, great irreconcilable enemy of mankind is not indeed perceptible by our bodily organs^ We cannot see, nor hear, nor touch him, like the material objects around us. But this fact furnishes no argument against his existence and power ; for it is only a small part of the works of God to which the eye of sense extends. Instruments bring with- in its reach innumerable objects which lie beyond the natural sphere of its vision ; and philosophy is every day discovering to the eye of reason new agents which lie beyond the reach even of instruments, and which were altogether unknown to former times. Can it then seem surprising that revelation should unfold to us a series of such agents — a world of spiritual beings invisible to the bodily eye ; but whose power over man himself, and over the whole system of things around him is great and extensive ? We feel every mo- ment within us the unceasing operations of an 138 SERMON VIL an invisible spiritual mind ; we trace the operation of similar mihds in the; conduct of our neighbouYs; We observe .daily the effects of their inflaence on eafch other, and on the systems f matter to Which 'they are attached ; and in the course of nature we find irresistible proofs that powers are con- tinually operating whose 'inumate nature we cannot detect, but which are different from any thing that vv^e see. We are therefore prepared by the natural inferences of our reason to expect a kingdom of invi- sible agents similar to that which the scrip- tures reveal. And the experience of evil disposition in ourselves, and of the afllicting disorders which prevail around us, affords sufiicient incjications that some of these agents are malicious, and leaves no room to question the general account which has been communicated to us from above con- cerning their history and power. The general circumstances of our Sa- viour's temptation, therefore, are in them- selves perfectly credible. It was natural that, on the eve of a great undertaking, he should, according to the custom of his country, retire to meditation and fisting. It SERMON VIL 139 It was proper that the appomted guide of mankind, who was to shew them an exam- ple of all . righteousness, should meet and conquer the trials which they are destined to undergo. And it was therefore indis- pensible that he should encounter the se- ductions of that evil one who ruleth in the children of disobedience, and return from the conflict uninjured and triumphant. But it may be said, though the general circumstances of this history be consistent with the ordinary course of things, and therefore credible ; yet there are in the de- tail of it certain appearances which cannot be reconciled to our views of nature and of the divine government, and which tend to invalidate our belief of the whole transac- tion.— To enable us to estimate the force of this objection, it is previously necessary that we know what these appearances are, and whether they result from the history itself, or from our misconception of the na- rative which it presents. Even though there were difficulties in the narration which the limited penetration of mna could not re- move, we should not on this account be entit- led to reject it in defiance of regular and well sup-= 140 SERMON VII. supported attestation. But if all the diffi- culties on which the objection rests arise from misconception — ^if they may be easi- ly removed by a just interpretation of the passage, it becomes us to receive that in- terpretation with reverence, to dismiss our suspicions and doubts, and to apply the truths which it suggests for the direction and improvement of our conduct. The circumstances which occur in this narrative may be viewed in three diflferent lights. They may be viewed as events that happened in the most literal and sensitive meaning w^hich the words can convey ; or they may be regarded as the representation, of scenes that were exhibited only in vision to the mind of Jesus ; or lastly they may bd considered as a picturesque and lively des- ' cription of the seductive conceptions that were actually suggested to his mind by Sa- tan— a description in which the tempter and his arts are brought forth before our imagi- nation as a specimen of what takes place in every temptation that assails us. I. Those who adopt the first of these views contend that Satan appeared to Christ in SERMON VII. 141 in a visible form ; that he conversed with him face to face as one man converses with another; that he transported him bodily from place to place ; that from a lofty mountain he shewed to him visibly and in a moment all the kingdoms of the earth and all their glory ; that he boldly asked for himself the worship which is due only to the God of heaven ; and, in short, that every circumstance here mentioned hap- pened precisely and literally according to the representation which the evangelists have given of it. This supposition has been frequently a- dopted by the interpreters of scripture. But to many wise and pious men it has ap- peared to be liable to insuperable object- tions. It supposes that on this occasion Sa- tan openly assumed his true character as the enemy of God, a method of procedure altogether inconsistent with his acknow> ledged subtilty and address. It represents him as operating on material objects in a mode which we have no reason to believe subordinate spiritual beings can employ. It ascribes to him powers which he cannot be admitted to possess without weakening one 142 SERMON Vir. one of the firmest pillars of Christianity, the evidence of miracles. It asserts, in one instance, what to us has the appearance of a direct impossibility, that from one spot were beheld all the kingdoms of the world and their glory. And by removing the temptation of Christ out of the usual course of things, it renders the example furnished by it useless either for the direction or the consolation of men under the ordinary trials to which they are exposed On account of these irresistible objections to v^^hat may be called the corporeal interpretation of the passage, many learned and pious Christians have sought in a figurative acceptation a more consistent, plausible and useful sense. With this view they have had recourse II. To vision. And in detailing the ori- gin and nature of this supposed visionary scene, two different views of it have been given. According to one of these views this vi- sion was produced by Satan who exhibited to Jesus the scenes here described, and ex- cited in hirn.a, false persuasion of their reality, though they were only fictitious. — It SERMON Vll. 143 It supposes that he was placed, in imagina- tion only, on the pinnacle of the temple ; that the shew of worldly dominion and grandeur presented before him was unsub- stantial : and, in short, that the whole was a delusory representation, formed by Satan in the fancy of our Lord, weakened as he v/as by long continued fasting, and prepar- ed by solitude for regarding the internal fictions of the mind tjs real existent ob- jects. ^ This view of the case ascribes to Satan a most unlimited power over the human heart. It supposes that he has at his com- mand our perceptions and opinions^ the sources of all our conduct. But this sup- position renders us mere machines, moved by foreign powers, and leads by direct con- sequence to the destruction of our account- ableness as moral agents. Others therefore have been disposed to regard the scenes here described as a visionary representation excited in the mind of Jesus by the spirit or God, for the purpose of exhibiting to him Satan as his most formidable opponent, and of prefiguring the difficulties which, under the conduct of this arch apostate, would 144 SERMON VIL would embarrass him in the execution of his mediatorial office. According to this account therefore the transactions which are here recorded were a divine prophetic vision of the temptations which Satan v/ould throw in the way of Jesus during the course of his ministry, in order to in- duce him on some occasions to employ im- properly, for supplying his private wants, the miraculous powers, with which he was invested, for public purposes : to propose the evidence of his mission in a more irresistible form than is consistent with our present probationary state : and to comply with the prejudices of the Jews by as- suming the splendour and magnificence of a temporal prince. This interpretation is free from one in- superable objection that lies against the last ; but it is exposed to others in its turn. It is too ingenious to be just — too remote frorn the ordinary use of language to re- ceive the approbation of sober criticism. Besides destroying the use of our Saviour's conduct under temptation as an example to his followers, it rests on a supposition concerning the interposition of the divine spirit SERMON VII. 145 spirit for which the text furnishes no authority, and which is in direct contradic- tion to the obvious tendency of the whole passage. Jesus was led by the spirit into the v/ilderness for the purpose of enduring temptation as an appointed part of his earthly trial ; but when placed there, he was left to contend with Satan, and not with illusions from on high. The unsuccessfulness of these attempts to explain the circumstances which are here recorded seem to have arisen not from any real difficulty in the passage itself, but from false preconceptions respecting the nature of our Saviour's temptation. That temp- tation has, without any reason, been suppo- sed to be totally different in kind from the temptations to which men are exposed ; and commentators, misled by this unfound- ed supposition, have involved themselves in inextricable difficulties concerning it. The method by which batan is commonly represented in scripture as seducing man- kind is by working on their imagination and on their passions. He does not appear to them himself; but he places before them ocassions of sin, influences the train of their K thoughts U6 SERMON VIII. thoughts, and employs against them all the deceivableness of unrighteousness, by sug- gesting to their minds such views as are most favourable to his purpose, by inflam- ing their desires, and through this medium hurrying them forward to the commission of iniquity. The power which he exerts over them operates through the force of motives and persuasion, and in a manner similar to that by which one man corrupts the principles and undermines the virtue of another. And what reason have w^e to be- lieve that he acted differently in the present instance ? Why may we not suppose that he employed against the human nature of Christ the same artifices which he employs daily against ourselves? Is it incredible that he should suggest to Jesus, pinched wdth hunger, that he ought no longer to wait, con- fiding in providence, for the usual appoint- ed me'ans of nourishment, but to exert his miraculous power for creating bread to him- self ? Is it incredible that he should suggest to Jesus, deliberating anxiously about the best method of executing his commission to the human race, some difHculties concerning the expediency of the gradual humiliating plan U7 SERMON VIII. plan committed to him by his Father ; and that he should inspire the thought of pro- ducing more immediate conviction by des- cending on his countrymen from the pinna- cle of the temple, as from the clouds of heaven, or of extending the benefits of his religion at once to the whole race by ap- pearing in his native dignity as the king and sovereign of the nations ? That there is nothing either incredible or improbable in supposing that Satan might labour to in- sinuate such thoughts into the mind of Je- sus, is demonstrated by the fact that these are the very suggestions which he has com- mitted to all his emissaries, since that time, as sources of argument against the wisdom of the plan pursued by Christ for instruct- ing and saving mankind. The only thing that can occur as an ob- jection to this inter jjretation arises from the picturesque and dramatic form of the nar- ration. Satan seems to be introduced in person, and to carry on with Jesus a bodi- ly and interesting series of transactions ; w^hereas, according to the accountnow given, no visible intercourse took place. But to any man who has attended carefully to the K 2 stile us SERMON VII. stile of: scripture this objection will carry no force ; for nothing is more common than to see there the invisible actions and intercourse of spiritual beings exhibited un- der th© visible form that is familiar to our imagination. What is done in the secret recess of the mind is brought forth to the senses, and clothed in material colours. Even the Almighty God, whose counsels have been from everlasting, whom no man hath seen^ nor can see, is frequently de- scribed as deliberating about the measures he shall adopt, and conversing visibly with his creatures. And Satan himself, in lan- guage very similar to what occurs here, is said to have presented himself among the Sons of God, and to have disputed per- sonally with his Maker. In all such cases the language is to be regarded as an ac- commodation to our mode of conception as men, and is to be interpreted agreeably to the peculiar nature and operations of the beings whom it respects. From what has been said then. Christians, it appears that it became Jesu. to submit to temptations ; that the time in which these temptations were likely to assail him in I their SERMON VII. 149 their greatest force was in the immediate prospect of his public labours ; and that the method in which Satan conducted this at- tack on his virtue may have been similar to the methods which he employs for the seduction of all mankind. That this is the just view of the case will appear with ad- ditional evidence, in the next discourse, from a particular examination of the trials which were on this occasion presented to him. SER- SERMON VllI The same Subject continued. ^IaTTHEW, IV, 1 — II. Then teas Jesus led up of the spirit into the wilderness, to be tempted of the devil. ^ And xchen he had fasted fort If daijs and fort ij nights, he ivas afterxvard an hungered. 3 And when the tempter came to him, he said, If thou be the Son of God, command that these stones be made bread. 4 But he answered and said, It is written^ Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every WOJ'd that proceedeth out of' the vioutli of God. 5 Then the Devil taketh him up into the holy city, and setteth Jam on a pinnacle of the temple, 6 And saith unto him, If thou be the Son (f God, cast thyself do%vn: for it is written, He shall give his angels charge concerning thee ; and in their hands they shall bear thee up, lest at any time thou dash thy foot against a stone. 7 Jesus said unto him. It is zvritten again. Thou shall not tempt the Lord thy God. 8 Again, the devil taketh him up into an exceeding high mountain^ and sheweth him all the kingdoms of the world^ and SERMON VIII. 151 and the glorii of than ; ^ And sa'ith unto hwiy All these things xrill I give thee, ij' thou xcilt fall down andiiorship me, 10 Then salth Jesus unto him. Get thee hence, Satan: for it is written, Thou shalt xvorship the Lord thij God, and him. only shalt thou serve. 1 1 Then the dciil leaveth him, a fid, behold, angels came and ministered unto him. J.N reviewing this passage we have already seen, that there is nothing improbable in the general aspect of the circumstances which it presents to us. It was proper on many accounts that the Redeemer and guide of mankind should be tried with temptations : it is natural to suppose that Satan, the great enemy of human virtue, would be the agent in suggesting them : and no time was more likely to be chosen for his attack than the anxious nioments when Jesus, about to leave the shade of a private station, was meditating deeply how he might best execute his arduous plan for destroying the kingdom of dark- ness. Various unsuccessful attempts have, in- deed, been made to explain the particular form 152 SERMON VIII. form ill which the circumstances of the temptation are here exhibited. On this subject I have aheady endeavoured to shew- that the language employed by the Evan- gehsts does not lead us, necessarily, to be- lieve that these circumstances were different in kind from the circumstances of every temptation that assails us. Satan, hke all other spiritual beings, is invisible : his mode of acting is, of course, naturally im- perceptible to the bodily eye : and therefore, when his influence on the human heart is to be represented to the imagination of men, he must be brought forth to view, painted as one of themselves, and as accom- plishing his end by means similar to those whieh they employ to influence the con- duct of one another. Of this method of representing the actions and influence of spiritual beings, scripture furnishes innume- rable examples ; and there is no reason, why w^e should exclude the passage before us from being one of the number. According to this view of the case, then, this . passage contains an account of the 5^ductive thoughts which, tlirough the in- fluence of Satan, rose in the mind of Jesus on SERMON VIII. 153 on the feeling of his wants, and in the prospect of commencing his public mini- stry. If this view be just, the form of the temptations will result naturally from th^ situation in which he now stood ; and they will derive their power from the peculiarity of his present circumstances. Now, when we examine them separately, we find that they are precisely of this description. They were of three different kinds ; and each of them was artfully adapted to the feelings and designs which at that time most powerfully engrossed his attention. The first temptation presented to him w^as addressed to the prevailing bodily sensation of the moment. The tempter availed himself of the pressing calls of hunger, and co-operated with them for the purpose of inducing Jesus to pervert, for the supply of his private wants, the miraculous powers committed to him for the attestation of his public commission from heaven. After Jesus had spent forty days and forty nights in the wilderness, in that state of imperfect and scanty nourish- ment which th^ scriptures denominate fasting. 154 SERx\ION VIII. fasting, he felt the powerful call of hunger ; and as, under the influence of this imperious feeling, he was ruminating on the means of procuring the necessary supply of food, the tempter came to him and said, — that is, the tempter suggested to his thoughts this easy and plausible ex- pedient, If thou be the Son of God, command that these stones he made bread. Why shouldst thoii continue any longer to sub- mit to fainting and famine ? Thou art in- deed in the wilderness far from human aid. But the voice from heaven has de- clared thee to be the Son of God, and thou art destined to perform an important part in the benevolent plan of providence. In these circumstances it is not proper that thou shouldst want the necessary means of supporting life, and it cannot be the will of heaven that thou shouldst be permitted to perish from hunger before thy great work has been even begun. "What though the wilderness be bleak and barren, and the aid of men at a distance ? Thou hast power in thyself, as the Son of God, to convert the wilderness into a fruitful gar- den, and to sumn]on the angels of heaven to SERMON VIIL 155 to minister to thy wants. Exert that power so far at least as may be requisite for removing the cause of thy present uneasiness and danger. Command the stones before thee to become bread, to minister a supply to thy natural appetite, and to preserve a life so important to the best inte*-ests of mankind. Such seem to have been the suggestions which, on this occasion, Satan caused to arise in the mind of Jesus. They were specious, and seemed to propose an easy method of removing his pain and danger without injustice or inconvenience to any one. Our Saviour, however, viewed them in a different hght, and rejected them as an attempt to excite within him a criminal distrust of the superintending care of Pro- vidence ; and as recommending a mis- application of the miraculous powers com- mitted to him for the public purposes of his mission. He answered and said, man shall not live by bread alone^ but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God : — or, as it might have been translated, by every thing which God is pleased to appoint. This 156 SERMON VIII. This reply is borrowed from the book of Deuteronomy, and recals to view the conduct of Providence towards the Israel- ites in a situation not very unlike to that of Jesus. Conducted into the wilderness by the guidance of heaven, they had been supported in it for the space of forty years, not by the productions of the earth, but by manna, a light aerial food which neither they nor their fathers knew, that they might see, adds the historian, that vian doth not live by bread only, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of the Lordy or rather, but by every thing which the Lord is pleased to appoint doth man live. The application of this passage to the J)resent case was direct, and the argument resulting from it irresistible. God careth for the life of his servants, and he will employ the means of preserving it to the appointed limit, while they continue to follow his direction. If he call them into situatiens where the ordinary means of support fail j he can, if necessary, employ extraordinary expedients to accomplish the purposes of his goodness. He can even preserve them-, "without any visible nourishment, from ex- periencing SERMON VIII. io7 periencing the usual decays of nature. But of the necessity of such immediate inter- positions, and of the manner of conducting them, he alone is the proper judge. I will not, therefore, says Jesus, distrust the protection of his providence, nor employ unwarrantable means to extricate myself from my present situation. I came into it at his command, and under the direction of his spirit. I know that he will watch over me until the purpose for which he sent me hither be accomplished ; and, though I now feel in all their extre- mity the pinchings of want, I will en- dure them with patience, in humble trust that in due time he will restore me to the refreshments of food, and to the successful discharge of my public duty. From the conduct of Jesus on this occasion his followers may learn the im- portant lesson that they ought on no account to use unlawful means for remov- ing the hardships to which their condition is subjected. They are under the care of God. The hardships of their condition are a part of his plan for promoting their improvement 158 SERMON Vlir. improvement, and while they do their duty, they need not fear that he will suffer them to sink under the difficulties which surround them. If poverty hath come upon you like an armed man^ or if oppression threatens to overwhelm you, you must neither put forth your hand to steal, nor lift the forbidden sword of assassination and revenge. Perform the duties of the station in which you are pla- ced ; commit your cause to God who jud- geth righteously, and in peaceful submission to his appointment wait for the time when your redemption shall come. Remember the words of your Saviour ; and when Satan or your own hearts tempt you to seek deliverance from your miseries by violating the laws of rectitude, pause with the devotion of a Christian, and say, // is writte?iy man liveth not by b?'ead alone ^ but by every thing which God is pleased to appoint. The other two temptations respected the method which Jesus should adopt for exe- cuting the important office in which he was immediately to engage. As he deliberated on this subject three plans would naturally occur SERMON VIII. 159 occur. He might either present the evi- dence of his divine commission with that direct irresistible conviction which might at once overpower all opposition ; or he might dazzle the eyes of men with the splendour of princely dignity, and preach the new religion to the subjected world from the throne of universal empire ; or lastly, he might follow the slow gradual plan of working out the salvation of the fallen which had been committed to him by the wisdom of his father. This last plan was the most effectual, the most consistent with the appointed principles of human improve- ment, and absolutely required by the justice of heaven. But it was less flattering, and far more difficult to excute ; and therefore the tempter made a powerful effort to re- commend the other plans to his affection and preference. The first suggestion made to Jesus with this view was a lively representation of the advantage that would result to his cause from descending suddenly on the assembled people from a pinnacle of the temple, and of the safety with which he might make this attempt. * Then the devil taketb him up into 160 SERMON VIIL into the holy cityy and settetb him on a pinnacle of the temple^ and saith unto him. If thou be the Son of God, cast thyself down : for it is writ- ten, he shall give his a7igels charge concerning thee, and in their hands, they shall bear thee up, lest at any time thou dash thy foot against a stone. This temptation has been commonly ex- plained as an attempt to persuade Christ mere- ly through an unwarantable confidence in the protection of providence, to a deed of des- peration which might terminate at once his designs against the kingdom of Satan. But it is capable of a much more probable and appropriate interpretation than the first view of it suggests. The Jews at this period entertained a strong expectation that their promised Mes- siah was now about to appear, and under the influence of this expectation they had formed conjectures concerning the manner in which he should come. From a mis- taken interpretation of some of the pro- phecies concerning him they had conclud- ed that he would descend suddenly in visi- ble majesty from the clouds of heaven, and ^lake his first public appearance in the temple SE R MON VIII. 161 temple of Jerusalem. This visible descent was tbe sign from heaven which they so fre- quently demanded from him afterwards, and which they regarded as essential to the attestation of his commission. At this time, therefore, when Jesus was just about to enter on the public discharge of his office, Satan artfully suggested to him the advantage of gratifying in this respect the prejudices of the people, and giving the evidence which they expected. With this view the tempter proposed that he should drop from the summit of the tem- ple as from the clouds, and under the au- thority of this seal of heaven, call on the astonished multitude instantly to acknow- ledge his commission. In doing so, adds the crafty deceiver, availing himself of the principle by which Jesus had repelled his former temptation, — in doing so, you can be exposed to no danger ; for if you be in reality the appointed Messiah, the angels of heaven, according to your Father's promise will bear you up in their arms, and defend you from injury until you have accom- plished the objects of your mission. They will support you on the yielding bosom of L the 162 SERMON VIII. the. air, and, by dropping you unhurt, attest to the wondering crowd the truth of your pretensions. To this temptation Jesus replies that, though we ought to rely on providence, yet it is not our duty to prescribe to heaven the means of fulfiUing its designs, nor to presume upon its protection farther than the establislied laws of nature authorise. We are to perform the task appointed to us according to the intention of God, dread- ing no danger which the faithful execution of it may require. But we are not to cre- ate dangers to ourselves through a foolish presumption that they will facilitate our pur- ' pose, and that the miraculous arm of the Alnriighty will be stretched out for our de- fence. For it is written thou shall not tempts or make experiments on, the Lord thy God. From this answer of Christ, we ought to learn not only the folly of exposing ourselves rashly to external danger, in the behef that God will protect us as his chosen ser- vants ; but also the madness of spiritual pre?- sumption, and the danger of relying on tha grace of heaven for defence against temp- tation, and for the blessings of eternal life, while SERMON VIII. 163 while we ar^ at no pains to avoid the snare of the destroyer, or to follow the path which conducts to heaven. When God places us in circumstances of temptation, he hath promised that he will not tempt us above zvhat we are able to bear^ or that with the temptation he will make a way for our es- cape. But he hath no v>7here promised to protect us against the consequences of our own folly, nor to avert the dangers which we chuse to create for ourselves. Nay, he hath declared expressly that the soul which doeth ought presumptuously shall be cut off from among his people t and that his iniquity shall be upon him. Having thus failed in his design of sedu- cing Jesus into evil through the motive of giving more resistless authority to his com- mission, Satan for a moment suggested to his mind a more flagitious dereliction of his ' duty. By calling up before him a seduc- tive representation of the glories of tempo- ral dominion, he tempts him to relinquish the path of suffering on which he had en- tered, and to serve the interests of the devil by prostituting his powers to the pursuit of worldly greatness, udgain the devil taketh L 2 ^ him 1^4 SERMON Tlir. him up into an exceeding high moimicm^ and shezvetb him all the kingdoms of the world and the glory of them ; and sayeth unto him, All these things will I give thee-> if thou wilt fall down and worship me. It must be remembered that Jesus was now deliberating concerDing the part he was to act as the messenger of God to man- kind ; and that in this dehberation he had to compare the humble persecuted station appointed for him by his father and by du- ty, with the magnificence and glory of princely dignity. While his thoughts dwelt on this last subject, Satan exhibited to his mind a vivid representation of universal em- pire, approaching in force to the distinctness of actual vision, and producing the same ef- fect on the passions of the heart. Con- scious of his own powers, the Son of God in human form saw by his mind's eye all this glory within his reach by a slight deviation from the path of rectitude ; and by employing, like a servant or worshipper of Satan, for his own aggrandisement, the miraculous powers entrusted to him for the salvation of men. The prospect was en- chianting ; and its charm might to him be ^'•* enhanced SERMON Vlir. 165 enhanced through the suggestion of the same mahcious spirit, that, by this small sacrifice of duty, he would be able to promote more effectually the happiness of his subjects, and, as king of the nations, to give more rapid spread to the blessings of his gospel. This delusive thought seems only to have risen before the mind of Jesus, and to have been instantly rejected. He did not hesi- tate a moment between the path of duty, and the path of error, however speciously disguised. With the indignant tone of in- sulted virtue he rebukes the tempter and his iniquitous suggestion ; Get thee hence Sa- tan : for it is zvritten thou shall worship the Lord thy God, aud him only shalt thou serve. Let us, Christians, uniformly follow this firm and manly example. Whenever a com- petition arises between our duty and our apparent interest, let us instantly decide in favour of conscience. Whatever is incon- sistent with her laws is the worship and ser- vice of the devil, and has a tendency to in- crease his power and dominipn upon earth. Here therefore we must maintain our alle- giance to heaven inviolate. Whatever the strength of the temptation may be, let us 1-3 resist 365 SERMON VIII. resist and repel it in the words of Jesus, Get thee he?ice, Satan^ for it is written thou shalt worship the Lord thy God, and him only shalt thou serve. Such were the temptations presented by Satan to the mind of Christ, and such the means by which Christ preserved himself from their power. Those temptations were drawn from the present circumstances of his state ; and they w^ere resisted by those just views of religious truth, which the w^ord of God furnishes for the comfort and direction of the faithful. This portion of sacred history, taken in con-' ncction with other passages of Scripture, not only suggests the method of resisting temptation, but gives us much interesting information concerning the system of the universe. In addition to the agents visible by the bodily eye, it reveals to us a king- dom of spiritual beings over whom Satan presides, who are the enemies of all right- eousness, full of subtelty and mischief, and incessantly employed to deceive and cor- rupt the human race. It furnishes there- fore powerful incitements to unwearied vi- gilance, and demonstrates the necessity of using SfeRMON Viri. 167 lising every mean which religion supplies for our defence. As we wrestle not against jiesh and bloody but against principalities^ a- gainst power ^ against the rulers of the dark- ness of this zvorld, against spiritual wickedness in high places^ it surely becomes us to take unto us the whole armour of God that we may be able to stand in the evil day. And what reason have we for gratitude and confi- dence when we reflect that impenetrable armour has been provided for us ! We know not only that Satan is under the controul of the Almighty, and bound in chains till the judgment of the great day ; that he acts only by permission from on high ; and that his power can be of no effect against us, but through our own consent ;-^we know also that there is another kingdom of invisible beings who excel in strength — benevolent angels who camx and ministered to Jesus in this hour of his tiial, who are appointed to be the guardian spirits of the good, who are ready to minister also to us as the heirs of salvation, and who encamp round about all who fear the Lord. We even know that God himself is at the right hand of his prvants, pleased with their resistance to L 4 168 SERMON VIII. the seductions of iniquity, strengthening them with might from heaven, and prepar- ing for them the triumph of victory. In these circumstances why should we com- plain of the power and cunning of our ad- versary ? They are counterbalanced by the power and wisdom of our friends ; and if we do our own duty, they will serve only to call forth and to improve the virtuous prin- ciples of our frame. Greater is he that is with us than all they that be against us. Let us therefore fear him, and we need have no other fear. Let us study his word, let us frequent his ordinances, let us keep our own hearts with all diligence ; and the fiery darts of the wicked one will fall harm_- less at our feet. The example of our mas- ter will encourage us in the most difficult paths of duty, and teach us how to over- come And may his spirit dwell in us to animate our perseverance, to bring his word seasonably to our remembrance as an anti- dote against temptation, and finally to con- duct us to victory. SER- SERMON IX. l^UKE, IX, 28 — 36. • 28 And it came to pass, about an eight days after these sayings, he took Peter, and John, and JameSi and wait up into a mountain to pray. 29 Andy as he prayed, the fashion of his countenance was altered, and his raiment was white and glistering. 30 And, behold, there talked with him two men, which zvere Mo.ses and Elias: 31 Who appeared in glory, and spake of his decease, which he should accomplish at Jerusalem. S2 But Peter, arJ they that xvere with him were heavy with sleep : and %chen they were awake they saw his glory, and the tzoo men that stood with hi?n. 33 And it came to pass, as they departed from him, Peter said unto Jesus, Master, it is good for us to be here : and let us make three tabernacles ; one for thee, and one for Moses, and one for Elias ; not knowing what he said. 34 fVhile he thus spake there came a cloud and o'cer- shadowed them : and they feared as they entered into J70 SERMON IX. into the chud. 35 And there came a *coice out of the cloud, saying, This is my beloved Son ; hear ye him. 36 And when the voice teas past Jesus was found alone. Jiid they kept it close, and told no man in those ddys any of those things which they had seen. 1 HE events, recorded in this passage, happened, according to the concurring testiiTiony of the first Christian writers, on Tabor, a beautiful hill in the land of Galilee. It is celebrated in Scripture as the spot where Barak, by the defeat of Sisera, delivered the Israelites from the yoke of Jabin. It w^as afterwards remark- able for being one of the last places in which the Jews maintained themselves against the Roman power. And in the prosperous days of the gospel it becam.e the seat of several churches, and of a magnificent monastery erected to perpe- tuate the mem.ory of the transfiguration. To this delightful spot Jesus retired for the purposes of devotion, and took wdth him three favoured disciples to be witnesses of the scenes that were to follow. These men were to be afterwards employ- SERMON IX. 171 ed in propagating the gospel through the World ; and it was proper, both on their own account, and on account of those who were to believe through their word, that they should be qualified lo attest, from what they had seen, the greatness and divinity of its author. At the same time We perceive here the same care to avoid ostentation which characterised the con- duct of Jesus in all the splendid incidents of his life ; for none were admitted to see his glory, but those who were neccessary to be unexceptionable witnesses of it to the world. The two celestial visitants, who con- versed with Jesus, on this occasion, were regarded by the unanimous consent of the Jews, as the greatest of their Prophets. Moses had been honoured by heaven to be the instrument of their deliverance from a long and cruel bondage, and to be the founder both of their religious and civil constitution. EHas had appeared in times of great degeneracy to rescue that consti- tution from the multiplied corruptions in- troduced into it by a succession of wicked princes, and to restove it to its original t purity 172 SEEMON IX. purity. On these accounts they were just- ly entitled to the gratitude and reverence of their countrymen ; and the homage which they paid to Jesus was well fitted to exalt his character in the estimation of the people ; and to recommend his doctrines to their acceptance. The facts which took place in the presence of these heavenly messengers compose by far the most splendid event in the history of Christ. The general course of his life exhibited to the view of his followers nothing but a series of humilia- tions. As a root springing out of a dry ground he had no form nor comeliness, and when they saw him, there was no beauty in him that they should desire him. Struggling himself with poverty and perse- cution, he could present no allurements to their ambition or their hope. But on this occasion he shone with a glory more than human, received visible homage from the inhabitants of heaven, and displayed on earth a specimen of his celestial dignity. The minds of the few apostles, who had been admitted to witness the scene, over- come with its magnificence, and thrilled with SERMON IX. 173 with a, delicious joy, fainted within them ; and as they a.voke from their trance, Peter, not knowing as yet what he said, exclaimed in the fulness of his heart, 0 Lord, it is good for us to be here. Let us make three tabernacles, one for thee^ and one for Moses ^ and one for Eh as. But this gleam of rapture w^hich filled the breasts of the disciples was soon to pass away. Scarcely had Peter wished it to continue when the heavens began to be troubled. Amid the profound serene, a cloud collected, which descending in a pil- lar of light rested on Moses and Elias, and separated them from the Master whom they came to serve. Borne on the bosom of the cloud, these radiant.ministers of heaven rise to their proper abode. But lo ! as they as- cend, a voice is heard — Not that awful voice, which from Sinai's top shook the earth and the heavens, and filled the congre- gation with terror ; but the peaceful voice of approbation and love. It is the voice of the most High which issues/rom the cloud, and it announces of Jesus, This is my beloved Son; hear ye him. As the voice passed, the magnificent scene vanished ; and the apos- tles 1/4 SERMON IX. ties found themselves alone with Jesus, ex« posed as before to .all the wants and the sor- rpws of humanity. It would be vain for us to enquire with what kind of body Moses and Elias appear- ed, or what was the nature of the change produced on our Saviour's form. Concern- ing these points, nothing explicit has been revealed ; and as every circumstance con- nected with them is confessedly supernatu- ral, we have no means whatever of infor- mation. Our experience extends to nothing that is similar ; and therefore, it is in the very nature of things, impossible for us to form any adequate conception on the sub- ject. Instead of pursuing such unprofitable and dangerous speculations, it will become us rather to inquire what purposes the trans- figuration was intended to serve in the plan, of providence, and what lessons it furnishes for our instruction and comfort. With this view let me observe, I. That from what happened at the transfiguration w^e may infer the personal dignity of our Saviour. The SERMON IX- 175 The Jews, in conformity with the pre^ dictions of their prophets, expected, that Messiah, when he came, would be cloatiied with dignity and power. In the lofty lan- guage of eastern poetry, he was to be higher than the kings of the earth, to whom should be given dominion, and glory, and a kingdom, who should sit and rule upon his throne for ever and ever, served by all the nations, and worshipped by the angels of heaven. These words, literally interpreted had suggested the notion of a temporal prince, who should establish his throne at Jerusalem, and from that holy place give law to the nations. The whole body of his countrymen were deeply prepossessed with this expectation. Even the disciples, who had been the companions of his affliction, and particularly Peter and the two Sons of Zebedee, looked forward with ambitious hopes to a change of circumstances, and an- ticipated the time when he should restore the kingdom to Israel, and place them at the head of its administration. In contradiction, however, to these ex- pectations concerning the Messiah, Jesus appeared in an humble form, and during the SERMON IX. 176: the whole course of his abode on earth, he was to continue a man of sorrows and ac- quainted with grief. But that the minds of his disciples might not be totally discourag- ed by this unexpected state of abasement, he gave them several indications that in him the predictions of the prophets were -ful- filled, and that he was in truth higher than the highest of the sons of men. He spake as never m.an gpake ; he did many mighty works which no other man could do ; and on the mount of transfiguration he exhibited a specimen of the glory which he had with the Father, before the world was. His face did shine as the sun ; his raiment became white as snow; the spirits of departed pro- phets appeared in his train ministering be- fore him ; and the voice of God proclaimed from the clouds. This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased. This splendid exhibition was sufEcient to preserve in the minds of the apostles a sense of their master's dignity through all the hu- miliating scenes that succeeded. A ray of light issumg from the holy mount pierced through the cloud of ills that covered him, and shed a glory round the horrors of his cross. SERMON IX. 177 cross. His abasement, even when at its greatest depth, must have appeared in their eyes as the ecUpse of majesty — an ecHpse which would last only for a while, and from which, like the sun in the heavens, he would soon burst forth again in his native splen- dor ; for, in the language of one of them- selves, they had been eye witnesses of his majesty^ and heard him receive from God the Father^ honour and glory ^ when the voice came to him from the excellent glory. The history of the transfiguration, Chris- tians, should produce a similar effect on our minds. Though we have not been permit- ted to witness in person this magnificent display of our Saviour's dignity, it has come down to us attested by sufficient evidence. It forms a part of that sacred record, v/hich the apostles who saw it, have delivered to posterity, confirmed by their sufferings, and sealed by their blood. When, therefore, the sneer of the infidel, or the remains of world- ly prejudice threaten to render the humilia- tion of Jesus a stone of stumbling or a rdcl; oi offence, let us turn back our eye from the scene of blood to the mount of vision, and behold our King in his glory. Enlight- |V| ene4 178 SERMON IX. ened by this view, the sorrows to which he wab subjected shall serve only to endear him to our hearts, and to strengthen our attach- ment to his cause. We shall worship him. at the foot of his cross ; and, even when he seems to sink beneath the malice of his oppressors, \yg shall look up to him as the Lord of heaven, whom principalities and powers obey, and with confidence commit ourselves, and all our interests to his affec- tionate protection. II. We learn from what happened at the transfiguration that this glorious Prince was appointed by God to suffer and to die. The great subject of the conversation between him and the two ancient prophets respect- ed the decease which he should accomplish at Jerusalem. One of the immediate ends of this visit from heaven, probably, was to fortify and prepare the mind both of Jesus liimself, and of the disciples for the approaching event of his crucifixion. On other great occasions in his history, we meet with incidents, which, in this respect, bear some resem- blance to the event before us. In two try- ing SERMON IX. 179 ing scenes of his life, after his temptation in the wilderness, and in the hour of his in- ward agony, we find messengers sent from on high to strengthen him : and several circumstances lead us to presume that the visit made to him on the mount of transfi- guration had partly the same object. It was made at the commencement of his awful conflict with the powers of darkness, and when he was meditating to leave for the last time his retirement in Galilee, and to meet his fate. While the transfiguration animated Jesus himself to encounter with fortitude the dan- gers before him, it contributed also to pre- pare the minds of his followers for what was to befal him. The conversation which they heard on the mount opened to them a new view of their Master's destiny, and forwarn- ed them, by an authority which they could not reject, that the intimations given by himself concerning his disastrous fate were consonant to the intentions of heaven, and would most certainly be realised. The language of the ancient prophets, though ambiguous in some respects, might have led an enlightened reader to anticipate M 2 th$ 180 SERMON IX., the sufferings of the Messiah. These suf- ferings were notified in the first prediction after the fall, when it was said that the ser- pent should bruise the heel of the woman's seed ; they were typified by various sym- bolical actions in the ritual of the Jewish worship : and the very manner of their ter- mination was intimated by the death of the paschal lamb, and by the declarations that Messiah the Prince should be cut off; that the assimbly of the ungodly should pierce his hands and feet ; that he should be stricken for the transgression of his people^ and that he should make his grave with the wicked. But whatever darkness might rest on the predictions of ancient prophecy when con- sidered by themselves, w^ho could doubt their meaning after the conversatit)n which the apostles heard on the mount ? Moses and Elias, the two greatest of the prophets^ even when proclaiming the dignity of Jesus, spake of the decease which he was about to accomplish, withdrew the veil from before the types and shadows of former limes, and pointed out the place and the manner of his departure. What SERMON IX. 181 What were the causes which made it ne- cessary that the Son of man should die ; and in what manner his death contributes to satisfy the justice of heaven, we cannot fully explain. But we know that it was predetermined in the counsels of the Al- mighty ; that a long series of preparations was made for its accomplishment ; that the spirits of departed prophets appeared on earth to announce its approach ; that it is analogous to the procedure of providence in other cases ; and that in virtue of it, the gate of immortality is opened to the peni- tent. Rejoice therefore, O Christian, even in thy Master's cross. His death was not the effect of accident, nor of the resistless power of his enemies. It was the ap- pointment of God for the redemption of the fallen. It was a theme of congratula- tion to the spirits of the just, who left their bright abodes to hail the period of its accomplishment. It is still the subject of their song : and from the holy nj^ount they call on us to look beyond its apparent infamy, to trace it to its origin in the heavens, and to glory in the victory which it purchased. M q III. 182 SERMON IX. III. We learn from what happened on the mount of transfiguration, that the Jewish institutions were henceforth to cease, that Jesus was appointed the uni- versal teacher ot mankind, and that there- fore the gospel is now the only revelatioii which can claim our belief and submission as an authentic declaration of the will of ^ heaven. The Jewish institutions were no doubt of divine appointment, and were entitled, for a time, to the reverence and submission of the people to whom they were given. But many considerations concur to prove that these institutions were originally de- signed to be limited in their extent, and transient in their duration. They were carnal ordinances, accommodated to the infancy of human improvement, and they pointed evidently to a more perfect state of things which should supersede their obliga- tion. The time fixed for their abolition was now come ; and Moses the giver of the Levitical ordinances, and Elias their great restorer, appear together on the mount, paying homage to Jesus, surrendering to him their authority, and pointing him out as SERMON IX. 183 as the end of the law for righteousness to them who beheve. After this solemn tran- saction, these holy men were withdrawn from the earth ; and, from the cloud which bore them aloft, the voice of the most High was heard proclaiming the arrival of a new Prophet to occupy their place, and commanding obedience to him. That voice announced of Jesus, This is my beloved Son in whom I am well pleased^ hear ye him ; and thus was fulfilled the prediction of Moses, The Lord thy God will raise up unto thee a Prophet from the midst of thee, of thy brethren, like unto me, unto him shall ye hearken. Considered in this view the transfigura- tion may be regarded as the solemn inau- guration of Jesus to the honours of his spi- ritual kingdom. From that moment he became the public head of his church ; the authorised teacher of the nations ; and it was the duty of mankind to listen to him with reverence, and to obey. The new or- der of things had commenced : The Pro- phet promised by God tu the fathers had arisen : the law with its types and obla- tions had retired for ever : and the gospel 51 4 appeared lU SERMON IX. appeared sent down from heaven to en- lighten and to bless the nations. Let us therefore, Christians, yield to the guidance of this spiritual Prince, and let us hence- forth honour him even as we honour the Father. To him is committed all power in heaven, and earth, and that power is given to him to be exerted for us. Let us there- fore receive with gratitude the doctrines which he teaches, and practise with dili- gence the duties which he requires. Thus shall we act the part which becomes us as his disciples upon earth ; and when the hour of our departure comes, we shall rise on the clouds of heaven to appear in glory with Moses and Elias, and to enjoy for ever the approbation of our God. For we learn from the circumstances of the transfigura- tion IV. That the soul of a good man sur- vives the dissolution of the body, and be- comes capable of higher measures of perfec- tion and happiness. The hope of immortality has been com- mon to all the nations of the earth. It is encouraged by the instincts of nature, and SERMON IX. 185 and supported by the deductions of reason. At the same time we must observe, that the hope which rests on these foundations is feeble and unsteady. Futurity is covered with a thick veil, through which the eye of mortals can scarcely penetrate. So dim in- deed is our natural prospect into the coun- try beyond the grave, that we are unable to distinguish the condition and employment of its inhabitants. We are even perplexed, at times, with the discouraging thought that the scene which we paint to ourselves may be nothing but a vision, which exists only in the delusions of fancy,* and which the hand of death will dissipate for ever. The gospel, however, has lifted up the veil which covered futurity from mortal eyes, and given us a clearer view of the land of spirits. It has given us complete assu- rance that this land has a real existence ; that the condition of its inhabitants will be determined by the nature of their conduct in the present probationary state ; that, if they have been good, they shall be raised to a pure, and glorious, and delightful so- ciety ; that their employments shall be the most honourable and improving , and that their 185 SERMON IX. their happiness shall be without interrup- tion, and without end. This information the gospel conveys to lis both by explicit declarations and by symbolical representation. And besides these methods of instruction, the three a- postles on the mount of transfiguration re- ceived a transient, but direct view of the celestial glory. They were introduced to the spirits of departed saints ; witnessed the perfection to which these spirits were now exalted ; and felt, in the influence of the scene around them, a passing foretaste of the happiness of heaven. Their feeble frame was overpowered by the rapturous emotions which it produced ; and in an ex- tasy of joy they exclaimed, it is good for us to be here. From what happened on this occasion, we may infer not only that the separated spirits of good men live and act, and enjoy happiness, but that they take some interest in the business of this world, and even that their interest in it has a connection with the pursuits and habits of their former life. The virtuous cares which occupied them on earth follow them into their new abode. Moses SERMON IX. 187 Moses and Elias had spent the days of their temporal pilgrimage in promoting among their brethren the knowledge and the wor- ship of the true God. They are still atten- tive to the same great object ; and, en- raptured at the prospect of its advance- ment, they descend on this occasion to ani- mate the labours of Jesus, and to prepare him for his victory over the powers of hell. What a delightful subject of contempla- tion does this reflection open to the pious and benevolent mind ! what a spring does it give to all the better energies of the heart ! Your labours of love, my virtuous brethren, your plans of beneficence, your swellings of satisfaction in the rising repu- tation of those whose virtues you have che- rished, will not, we have reason to hope, be terminated by the stroke of death. No ! your spirits will still linger around the objects of their former attachment. They will be- hold with rapture even the distant effects of those beneficent institutions which they once delighted to rear ; they will watch with a pious satisfaction over the growing prosperity of the country which they loved; with 18S SERMON IX. with a parent's fondness, and a parent's ex- ukation, they will share in the fame of their virtuous posterity ; and, by the per- mission of God, they may descend at times as guardian angels, to shield them from danger, and to conduct them to glory. Of all the thoughts that can enter the human mind, this is one of the most ani- mating and consolatory. It scatters flowers around the bed of death. It enables us who are left behind, to support with firmness the departure of oar best beloved friends ; because it teaches us that they are not lost to us for ever. They are still our friends. Though they be now gone to another a- partment in our J^ather's house, they have carried with them tht remembrance and the feeling of their former attachments. Though invisible to us, they bend from their dwelling on high to cheer us in our pilgrimage of duty, to rejoice with us in our prosperity, and, in the hour of virtuous ex- ertion, to shed through our souls the bless- edness of heaven. , Considered in this view, what a fund of encouragement did the vision on the holy mount provide for the apostles during all the SERMON IX. 189 the labours of their future mmistry ! While it gave them a foretaste of the reward pro- mised^ to persevering fideUty in the cause of goodness, it taught them that they were liOt called to labour in this cause unsupported and unseen ; that a cloud of innuincruble witnesses, even all the prophets and saints of former times were the anxious spectators of their conduct ; that the glorified spirit of their Master accompanied them to the con- flict of obedience, deeply interested in the event ; and that in due time he would ac-^ knowledge them with exultation as his friends before the angels of God. Let the same considerations. Christians, encourage our obedience. In the hour of trial when our virtue is ready to sink under the power of temptation, let us look back to the holy mount, and receive from it a faint vision of the glory w^hich yet remains to be revealed, and compared with which, the glories of this earth are as nothing and very vanity. The vision will reanimate our cou- rage, dissolve the deceitful charm of temp- tation, and prompt us to endure as seeing him who is invisible. It will teach us to look forward, from our present struggle to the 190 SERMON IX. the blessed period when our Redeemer shall change our vile bodies, and, fashioning them like his glorious body, shall admit us, not for a few passing moments, but for ever to dwell with Moses and EUas in the society of the just, and to share in their happi- ness. Such, my brethren, are some of the re- flexions which the scene of the transfigura- tion was fitted to suggest to the apostles. It gave them a transient view of their Mas- ter's glory : it taught them that his afflic- tions were not the effect of accident, but part of a great beneficent plan of mercy, and predetermined by the counsels of hea- ven : it prepared them for listening with reverence and submission to the doctrines which he delivered ; and it placed before them an animating prospect of the happi- ness and perfection of the world to come. Let the recollection of this event, Chris- tians, continue to suggest the same improv- ing lessons to our minds. Let it increase our reverence for the exalted character of Jesus : let it warm our hearts with grati- tude for the voluntary offering which he ^ade for our redemption ; and let it per- 1 suade I SERMON IX. 191 suade us to listen to the voice with which he calls us to virtue, and to glory. We are yet at a distance from our native home ; and have still to struggle with the difficul- ties of our journey. But if we follow his direction ; if we cultivate his temper and obey his law, he will protect us amid the trials of obedience; he will visit our depart- ing souls with the consolations of his love; and when he comes again in the clouds of heaven, attended by the spirits of the just, he will shed around us the joys of heaven, and receive us into the everlasting habita- tion of his Father. Amen. SER- SERMON X. Psalm, cxix, 9^. -Thy commandment is exceeding broad. iVlANY causes contribute to prevent men from attaining moral perfection. Some of these causes arise from defects of the will itself, and its aversion to the rule of duty ; and others from defects in our judgments respecting the nature and extent of our obligations. These last are, perhaps, both the most numerous, and the most incur- able ; for they derive their force from a corruption of the principles which should enlighten and guide us ; and if the light within us be itself darkness y bow great must be that darkness ! One of the most important mistakes in our moral judgments respects the standard of SERMON X. 193 ef duty. \¥e form to ourselves an imper- fect model of excellence---we propose a defective aim, and regulating our efforts by it, we fail, even when we think we have (done God good service, to reach the end of our creation. After we have executed all that we proposed ; though zve may think zvc have attained and are already perfect^ we are still the servants of iniquity. Our hearts are the seat of evil passions, and our conduct, though fliir and specious when viewed partially and from a distance, is very unequal in its texture, and unfit to bear the inspection of our Judge. It is therelore of indispensible necessity that they who devote themselves to the service of righteousness form a correct standard of moral estimation ; that they be careful not to narrow too much the sphere of their duties ; and that they guard against the numerous illusions which on this point are so apt to mislead and betray them. The commandment of the Lord is exceeding broad, reaching through the thoughts and intents of the heart to all the modes of expressing them, and con- trolling our conduct in every condition N and 194 SERMON X. and period of our lives. It will be a profitable employment to direct our atten- tion to this extent of the divine law, and to ascertain the conditions that are necessary to render our actions conform- able to it. I. The commandment of God extendi to the internal principles from which our actions proceed. Actions in themselves, and separated from the motives which prompt them, have no moral quality whatever. They arc natural effects of springs that operate within us, and follow these springs as necessarily as any other effect follo\\s its cause. In themselves therefore they can be objects of neither praise nor blame. These attributes belong to them only in consequence of their connection with cer- tain inward principles of choice ; and hence, to the conviction of all mankind, the same outward action may be either good or bad according to the quality of the principle which produced it. The observation that has now been made respecting external actions, is in a SERMON X. ig5 great measure true also respecting even the dispositions and habits of the mind. These are, in many cases, bhnd impulses, which in themselves are neither good nor bad. They receive a moral character only from the illu- minating principle by wrhich they are formed and directed. Virtue and vice are qualities of intelligent beings alone, and must there- fore derive their origin from those in- tellectual powers of reason and conscience by which such beings are distinguished. From these observations it follows that the commandment of God for regulating our moral conduct must reach beyond our ac- tions and dispositions, to the principles of choice by which such actions and disposi- tions have been formed. These principles it takes under its control, purifying them from every improper influence, and requir- ing that in all cases the choice which they make be conformable to the divine will, as announced to us by the voice of conscience and the law from heaven. It is this sacred regard to the divine will — this inward con- viction of duty which constitutes the essence of moral obligation, and which is therefore necessary to give to our actions dignity and N 2 value. 196 SERMON X. value. Hence, in conformity with this doc^ trine, the scriptures invariably represent the heart as the seat ofright and wrong, as con- taining tbe good treasure out of which a good mail bringeth forth that zvhich is good, cr the evil treasure out of which an evil man bringeth forth that which is. evil. They command us to keep the heart with all diligence^ because out of it are the issuer of life ; they teach us that the heart is the object to which, in judging of our character, Go4 will look ; and they declare that its most hidden springs are subject to the control of his law : for the word of God is quick and pozver- fulj and sharper than any tzvo edged szvordy piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and cfthejcints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart. In estimating the moral worth of our conduct, therefore, we should not only see that the matter of our actions be right and conformable to rule : we must also take into account, as the chief circumstance, the living principle from which they flow. Unless we feel that they have proceeded either frpm an immediate 5ense of obliga- tion. SERMON X. 197 tion, or at least from habitual dispositions formed originally on principles of duty-j we can have no confidence in their value. Without this requisite they may perhaps be useful to the world, and conducive to our private comfort ; but they cannot be morally good, nor commensurate with the commandment of God. Yet how seldom do men think of looking so deep for a support to their self approbation ! How easily are they satisfied if there be nothing in their external con- duct which the world can blame ! How readily do they conclude from a few splen- did acts of outward obedience that they are the friends of virtue and of God, though in performing them God and virtue were not in all their thoughts. This is a source of error that easily besets us ; and there is scarcely a branch of duty in which it does not lead us to narrow the commandment of God, and to mistake the shadow of virtue for its reality. We perform from private motives the actions which virtue demands, and without farther inquiry, we trust in ourselves that we are righteous. — Hcre^ for instance, is a man of most exem- N 3 plary IgS SERMON X. plary industry, distinguished by sobriety, by strict fidelity to liis engagements, by regu- lar attention to business, and by all the pru- dential habits of mercantile life, — his whole outward conduct is fair and unimpeach- able ; ^^but the whole of it is determined, not by maxims of duty, not by a resolution to glorify his Maker through the exercise and improvement of his talents ; but by the desire of raising a fortune, and of trans- mitting with his name an estate to his pos- terity. Tbere is another, temperate in the midst of jovial companions, and abstemious though surrounded with all the luxuries of the east. So far he does well ; but he has no title to consider his temperance as a vir- tue ; for his sole motive to it arises from the weakness of an exhausted constitution, or from the love of health and of the satis- factions which accompany it. ronder is a third with a still higher opinion of his own merit, and with stronger claims to our ap- probation and favour. He seems born for the rehef of the wretched ; in every street, he begs for the widow and the orphan, and bestows his own goods most liberally to feed the poor. And yet there may be lit-, tic S E R M O N X. 199 tie genuine heart-felt charity in all these seeming labours of love. I charge him not with the vices of ostentation and vanity ; for even in the absence of these vices, his beneficence may flow from springs that have no virtue. Having received from nature a melting softness of temper, he may be unable to resist the importunate demands that are made on him : feeling a nervous sympathetic uneasiness at the sight of distress, he may hasten to remove his own pain by relieving the miserable objects from which it comes : or animated by a busy bustling spirit that must have employment, he loves to run with the crowd ; and while charity is the fashion, he is an active and useful patron of all the schemes devised to promote it. Through these channels he is the author of much good to. his brethren, and has a just title to their gratitude and applause. But, before God and at the bar of conscience, all his righteousnesses are as filthy rags. .JHis beneficence is not the. virtue of charity^ because it proceeds not from views of duty, nor from a rational love to his kind. It is the offspring of his blood and tempera- '. :■'■'.','.' N 4 ment : !:oo S E R U O N X. ment , the mere effect of his natural con- stitution, Uke hunger and thirst ; and can be no just ground to him of self applause. For though from these motives he should bestow all his goods to feed the poor, and give his body to' be burned, he has not charity, and it will profit him nothing. From these reasonings it is evident that the commandment of God reaches beyond outward acts, and that our conduct, how- ever specious in appearance, or however useful in its effects, will not be approved by him as good, unless it proceed from right principles. It becomes us therefore to pu^ rify our hearts as well as our handsy to prac- tise truth in the inward part, and to pray that God would sanctify us wholly in spirit and soul and body to do his will. II. The commandment of God extends to all the branches of our conduct, enjoin-* ing the practice of every virtue, and for^ bidding iniquity under all its forms. It not only rectifies the springs of action; but it follows them into all their channels, and carries with it a purifying influence wher- ever it goes. Viewed SERMON X. 201 Viewed in this light the rule of our duty is exceeding broad, and applies itself to every relation in which we can be placed. There is no part nor circumstance of our conduct which it does not embrace and re- gulate. It governs us in the ordinary busi- ness of the world, as well as in the more solemn acts of obedience, Knd commands us to continue in all things written in the book of the law to do them. In scripture, indeed, as well as in other books of moralityj the rule of duty is exhi- bited in a few general precepts^ which may be surveyed in an instant, and which, on this account, may not seem, at first sight, to be very extensive. But these precepts are fertile in consequences. In themselves they are all equally of indispensible obli- gation ; and each of them is like a proli- fic trunk bearing innumerable branches, through all of which the same quality of obligation is diffused. The law which pro- hibits any vice, prohibits that vice through all its forms and sources ; and the law which commands any duty, commands all the applications of which it is susceptible, ifV'ith every thing that can promote the per- for- 520S S E R M O N X. formance of it. Does the law, for instance say, Tbou shah not steal, and does it not thereby prohibit every kind of injustice— every act by which you may promote your own interest at the expence of your neigh- bour's ? The same reason which renders it criminal to convert his propery clandes- tinely to the supply of your wants, renders it criminal to seize it by violence, to cheat him out of it by fraudulent transactions, to withold from him unreasonably the means by which he might increase it, to disappoint the expectations w^hich you have led him to form, to keep back the due rewards of his service, or in any way to prevent him from enjoying, in their fall advantage, all the op- portunities of success which providence has given him. In hke manner has the law said. Honour thy father and mother, and has it not by these words commanded you to love them, to yield due obedience to their authority, ta listen to their instruc- tions and advice, to promote their comfort to the utmost of your abiUty, to provide for their wants, to bear even with their infir- mities, to soothe them in their decline, and by every affectionate mean in your power to SERMON X. i203 to render the evening of their day peace- ful and serene ? Nay, does not the same law with proportionable force bind on your conscience the duties which you owe to all who, like parents, have acquired, by their station or their benefits, a claim to your re- verence and attachment — to the master whom you serve — to the teacher who forms your mind to virtue — to the magistrate who gives you protection, and acts, as the ordi- nance of God, for your good ? — By adopt- ing this mode of interpreting the general precepts of moraUty, and pursuing each of them in its course, you will find it to be of most extensive application; especially when yon reflect that it includes under it not only the external act, but the desire from ^vhich the act proceeds, and the very thoughts and habits and occasions by which this desire is generated. The same law which saith thou shah not steal hath also said thou shall not covet ^ prohibiting there- by every movement of the heart towards injustice, and every unnecessary approach to the temptations which have a tendency to excite it. ^^^ii •'tfiO **!.' *rhi^ 204 SERMON X. This broad view of the divine law should be permitted to recur frequently to our minds, because through the deceitfulness of sin we are extremely apt to forget it. We feel a disposition within us to divide the demands of duty, and to admit those only which accord with our inclination. Hence you may see one man devoted to exercises of piety, and attentive to its minutest forms, while in the ordinary intercourse of life, he seems to have scarcely any sense of what he owes to the reputation, to the comfort or even to the property of the neighbour with whom he lives. You may see another who discharges with great fidelity the social du- ties required of him as the member of a fa- mily, of a neighbourhood and of a state ; but who never reflects that he is a creature of God, destined for immortality, and bound to feel, and to pay to his Creator, the ho- mage of gratitude and obedience. You may see a third under the name of refor- mation continually altering his pursuit as he advances in life, but never growing bet- ter ; because he only changes his passions, and while he renounces the follies of youth, he substitutes in their room only the more ^ incor- SER.MON X. 205 incorrigible sins of manhood and old age. You will find another still anxious for the outward propriety of his demeanour, and tenderly alive to the slightest appearances of indecorum, while he has no scruple in secret to open his imagination to every sug- gestion of the tempter, and to devour in- wardly the coarsest husks of iniquity. And you will find a counterpart to him in the man of refined and delicate but ineffective emotion, who thinks himself, like the (laughter of Tyre, all glorious within ; but whose religion and morality are never seen beyond the circle of his feelings and his talk. — All these errors spring from attempts to contract the field of duty, and are most dangerous in their tendency. They deaden and corrupt the conscience. At the same time, they are altogether without excuse ; for the vices which spring from them are obvious violations of duty. They are not gins of infirmity and surprise, but habitual offences ; and it will be vain to flatter our- selves that they may be compensated by the performance of other duties which we have little temptation to neglect. The law of God knows of no such commutation. It was givei^ ^06 SERMON X. given to regulate and controul the whole of our inclinations, and not to foster their e- vasions and corruptions : it is of no private interpretation : and his word solemnly de- clares that though we keep the whole law and yet offend habitually and wilfully in one point, we are guilty of all. III. The commandment of God extends to every instant of our lives. — It requires not only that our principles of action be right, and that they diffuse their purifying influence to every branch of our conduct ; it requires also that this influence be per- manent, and ready at all times to guide us in the path of obedience. The truth of this proposition appears from the very nature of moral obligation. The general laws of rectitude have no de- pendence on time. The reason which binds us to be just and pious and temperate now, has the same intrinsic force at every other instant, and must control our ac- tions through the whole period of our be- ing. The principle of duty in the moral world, like the principle of life in the na- tural, ca.n never become extinct without dcbtruc- SERMON X. 207 destruction to the system which it animates. If virtue be the essential good of man, it must be good for him at all times and in all places, and no accidental circumstance of situation can possibly dissolve his obliga- tion to pursue it. It is his duty, therefore, never to weary in well doing, never to re- lax in his obedience, and to walk uprightly- all his life long. Accordingly the scriptures uniformly de- clare that temporary acts of virtue, and transient glowings of devotion will not fit us for the kingdom of God. They com- pare the godly man to a tree planted by the ri- vers of water whose leaf never faileth : They promise salvation to him only who endureth unto the end : and, in awful language, they forewarn us that if even the righteous turneth away from his righteousness and committetb iniquity^ and dotth according to the abominations of the wicked^ all his righteousness that he hath done shall not be mentioned ; in his trespass that he hath trespassed^ and in his sin that he hath sinned^ in them shall he die. From these declarations we are not in- deed to infer that casual offences, or tran- sient overflowings of passion, springing from sur- 208 SERMON X. surprise, and instantly deplored, will cut oft a good man from the hope of heaven. For trembling penitents, whom temporary bursts of passion have misled for a moment, the grace of the gospel provides strong consola- tion. But the language of scripture com- pels us to admit that the law of God is of eternal obligation ; that our attachment to it must be habitual and persevering ; and that it is a dangerous delusion to suppose, as too many professing Christians seem to do, that because we have been serious and strict and sanctimonious for a season, we may afterwards, on the return of temptation, give ourselves up with safety to the plea- sures of sin. The very supposition is a proof that our zeal for God, even while it lasted, was not according to knowledge, and that we had not apprehended aright the extent of his commandment. What ? Is it possible for us to believe that having begun in the spirit vje shall be m.ade perfect through the flesh ? Or that a temporary success in the warfare of virtue will justify our future desertion to the standard of its enemies ? Can there be such concord between God and Belial^ or such communion between right SERMON X. 209 light and darkness f Let us remember the words of the apostle, if after we have escaped the pollution of the worlds we he again entang- led therewith^ and overcome^ the latter end is worse with us than the beginning ; for if we sin wilfully after -we have received the know- ledge of the truth, there remainetb no more sa-- crificefor sin ; but a certain fearfulhoking for of judgment^ and of fiery indignation which shall devour the adversaries. From what has been said, christians, we may be convinced> that the commandment of God is exceeding broad. It reaches in- ward to the principles and springs of the heart ; it extends on every side to all the relations in wliich we can be placed ; and it stretches forward through every future, period of our being. It demands that in all situations, and at all times, our thoughts and words and actions be directed by a steady regard to the divine law, and by a sense of the obligations which it imposes. To obey it in all its demands is the glory and perfec- tion of our nature But who, O God, is sufficient for these things ? Thou knowest our frame and rememberest we are dust. Leave us not we beseech thee to ourselves^ o nor 210 SERMON X. nor to the might of our own arm ; for then in the day of trial, the spirits would fail be- fore thee, and the souls which thou hast made. Send us help from thy sanctuary, and strengthen us out of Zion, that we may stand perfect and complete in the will of God, and be thoroughly furnished in every good work. And glory shall be to the Fa- ther, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost ; as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen. SER. SERMON XL Matthew, xi, 30, -My yoke is easy and my burden is lig/iL .13 Y the yoke of Jesus is meant the law of obedience which he has imposed on his fol- lowers. The phrase alludes to the ancient custom of employing a yoke as the emblem of subjection ; and it intimates to the dis- ciples of Christ that they are no longer at liberty to live as they list, but bound to ob- serve the rules of service which their mas- ter has prescribed to them. To corrupted minds this service has al- ways appeared hard and intolerable ; be- cause it imposes a restraint upon their pas- sions. Even the man of genuine piety, when he contemplates the extent of the di- o 2 vine 212 SERMON XL vine law, and compares his own weakness with the height of perfection to which he is commanded to aspire, has sometimes felt his heart beginning to fail him ; arid has been heard to say in the tone of despondency *' Who, 0 God, is sufficient for these thi?igs /" Dwelling on the difficulties of the service, he magnifies them in thought, till his cour- age sinks within hmi, and leaves him the helpless victim of his own fears. But his fears are extravagant, and without just foun- dation. An apostle has told him that " the CQmma}id?nents of God are not grievous i' and our Saviour himself, in the most gracious terms, has declared that his yoke is easy and his burden light. After explaining this declaration, chiefly for- the purpose of guarding you against a misconception of its meaning, I shall point out a few reasons on which your belief of this comfortable doctrine may rest. Let me begin then by observing that those who take upon them the yoke of Je- sus, devote themselves to a life of righteous- ness. The discharge of duty is no longer to them an optional or occasional task. They are by profession the servants of him whose SERMON XI. 213 whose yoke they bear. To please him and to promote his cause are the great ob- jects which they have become bound to pursue. Like other men they will engage indeed in the cares and employments of the world ; but these cares and employments they will not view as ends on which their regards are ultimately to rest, but as means appointed by their master for the exercise iand discipline of their graces. While there -> fore they desire success in the management of their temporal concerns, and while they labour strenuously to secure it ; they will still hold that success as subordinate to the faithful discharge of their duty, and be uni- formly more desirous that zv/jetber they eat or drink^ or whatsoever they do^ they may do all to the glory of God. This service the text declares to be easy. But from this declaration you must not rashly infer that a course of virtuous obe^ dience will cost the Christian no exertion. Under the government of the Almighty a continued and vigorous exertion of the ta- lents committed to us is indispensibly re- quisite both to our improvement and our happiness. The mind of man is so consti- o 3 tuted 214 SERMON XL tuted that it cannot remain at rest. Its en- joyment springs from action: and if sour- ces of excitement and activity be not fur- nished to it from without, it will create them for itself. It delights in the exercise of its faculties ; it beholds with plea- sure the obstacles from which this exercise is to arise ; and it receives its noblest and most sublime satisfaction from looking back on the difficulties which it has met and con- quered. It is only when these difficulties are disproportioned to its powers — when they oppress and overwhelm it — that they become causes of dejection and distress. We must therefore expect that the ser- vice of Christ will require from us the ex- ertions which ^re suited to the principles of our active nature. Easy as it may be, it is still a yoke, the pressure of which must be felt. It places before us a lofty aim to which we must rise through much labour and exertion, and through many dangers of being disappointed. How many headstrong passions have we to control ! how many powerful temptations to resist ! how many sublime virtues to form and practise before we can be qualified for the kingdom of the just ! SERMON XL 215 just ! In this service therefore, even in its easiest form, we shall be called to encounter difficulties ; we shall need to watch and pray without ceasing ; and we shall often have occasion to fear lest a promise bei?ig left us of entering into rest, we should seem to come short of it. The degree of exertion and vigilance to which I have now alluded must be given by every man who aspires after Christian perfection. But there are cases where much higher degrees of it will be requisite. When the best of our days have been lost in folly, and habit has rendered the love of sin a kind of second nature to us — when the practices of our companions, and the cus- toms of the age in which we live, have been so loose as to corrupt the sources of our mo- ral judgments, and to taint the very atmo- sphere which our souls breathe-^when wickedness sits high in place, and waves the sword of discouragement and persecution against all who will live godly in Christ Jesus — in circumstances like these, the service of Jesus becomes a hard and perilous war- fare, where many painful sacrifices must be made, and where we must take unto us tin Q\6 SERMON XL the whole armour of God^ that we may be ^* ble to zvithstand in the evil dny^ and hav- ing^'done all to stand. Why then, it may be asked, does Christ call his yoke easy and. his burden light ? — He speaks of them comparatively. His yoke is easy in comparison with all the yokes which in the pursuit of happiness, men have imposed upon themselves. It is light when placed in the balance against the heavy burden of superstitious ceremon*" ies under which both Jews and Gentiles groaned ; and it is fir more easily borne than the' shameful degrading slavery of vice. It requires, indeed, that we be sincere- ly ambitious of moral excellence, and that the attainment of this excellence be the great and serious business of our lives. It leaves still on our way to perfection obstacles suffi- cient to rouse and animate our exertion. But these obstacles are not insurmountable ; and when we compare them with the means of success which Christ has provided for us, they cease even to be formidable. ' In proof of this observation let us now proceed to consider some of the circum- stances which contribute to render the ser- vice SERMON XI. 217 vice of Jesus easy to the man who sincerely pants after perfection. Consider then, I. That all the duties which this service imposes are reasonable in themselves and conducive to our advantage. The law of christian obedience is holy, just and good, It flows from an authority which to us must ever be supreme, the au- thority of God our Creator and Preserver, on w^horn we continually depend, and from whose jurisdiction nothing — not even the insensibility of the grave can withdraw us. It has a direct tendency to restore the rectitude of our moral constitution, by re- establishing due subordination and harmo- ny among the powers of the soul. And the course of action which it prescribes generally leads, by the appointment of providence, to the greatest respectability and happiness competent to our condition in life. In obeying this law, therefore, we are supported by the approbation of our reason, and by all the natural powers which a wise man would chuse to consult in the direction of his conduct. We are not discouraged by secret misgivings from within : 218 SERMON XI. within : we feel no enervating influence from the fear of future consequences : our arm is not palsied by the deadening re- proaches of a guilty conscience. Obstacles indeed may appear before us ; but we know thac it is both our duty and our interest to overcome them. Under this consideration we proceed to meet them with steady resolution ; and we find in that resolution, and in the inward satisfaction which accompanies it both a mean and a pledge of victory. But besides the facility for discharging duty which arises from this source, con- sider, 11. That all the parts of the Christian service are so consistent, and so intimately connected together, that they give each other mutual support, and that we cannot make a single step in the road to heaven which does not prepare and facilitate the next. In the service of iniquity the sinner has many masters to obey. His passions, with imperious voice, issue contradictory com- mands, and the unhappy drudge is driven hithev SERMON XI. 219 hither and thither, uncertain what he is to do. lie cannot serve the one without :nor- tifying and ofFendnig the other ; and hence he spends his wretched days in the vain and toilsome effort to reconcile contradic- tions. Even in the service of our leliow men the same intolerable yoke of contrarie- ties is too often felt. Men alter their plans ; they change their opinions ; and the arrangements of this day are overset or rendered impracticable by the arrangements of to-morrow. But in the service of your divine Master, christians, none of these vex- ing discouragements can possibly occur. He is himself the same, yesterday, to day, aAd for ever ; all his commands point to one object, the restoration of your moral perfection : and the execution of any one of them facihtates the execution of all the rest. Who ever cherished in his heart the love of God, and did not at the same in- stant feel within him a warmer glow of be- nevolence to men ? Who ever rose from the conquest of one passion without feeling himself strengthened for a more successful conflict with every other r Who ever did a generous deed, honourable to himself, and per- 220 SERMON XL perfective of his nature, without experien» cing for the moment a nobler sense of the dignity of man, und a stronger ambition to act worthy of it ? In a word, all the virtues are Hnked together by innumerable ties : they all impart vigour to each other, and to the whole of our moral constitution ; and they conspire harmoniously to improve and exalt the character of him by whom they are practised. These two considerations relative to the reasonableness of the Christian service, and the mutual connection and subservience of all its parts, prove that the yoke of Christ, viewed by itself, and abstracted from our feebleness, must of necessity be light. — • But it may be said, though it be light in it- self, it is too weighty for us, enfeebled, as we are by the fall, and by long continued habits of corruption. To obviate this ob- jection, consider III. The- strength that has been given you for discharging the duties of your Christian service. To suppose that Christ invites you to en- gage in a service which ye have not power to SERMON XI. 221 to perform, and that he will punish you for the want of attainments which ye have no means of reaching, would be to derogate from his character. It would be imputing to him the injustice of the Egyptian task- masters, and calling him, in the language of the wicked and slothful servant, a hard man who reaps where he has not sown, and gathers where he has not strawed. In what manner, at what time, and through what channels the requisite strength is imparted to the servant of Jesus, are questions which have often exercised the understandings, and divided the opinions of speculative men< But the solution of them has little or no influence on practice, and may therefore be safely left to the scribes and disputers of this world. The only question of practical value, and therefore the only question in which we have much concern, relates to the degree of power w^hich we possess for discharging our duty. And on this point all parties are agreed that the sincere servant of Jesus is thoroughi ly furnished to every good work, and that he can do all things through Christ strength- ening him. That 2£2 SERMON XL That this degree of power is actually pos^ sessed by the followers of Christ you have innumerable proofs. To be convinced of it look only at the facts before you. Be- hold the good who, in past times, or at the present day, have kept the faith and main- tained thf^ir integrity. They are a great multitucle whom no man can number ; they come out of every nation, and kindred, and people, and tongue ; they were once men, feeble and corrupted like you ; and from the summit of perfection on which they now scand, they are witnesses for God, that he has not imposed on us an impracticable task. Recollect the instances in which, moved by some prevailing motive, you have yourselves resisted strong temptation, and you will be satisfied that, in the other in- stances in which you fell before it, your fall was less owing to want of power than to want of inclination to perform your duty. In fine, look up to heaven, and behold the omnipotent spirit of God descending from his throne, and ready, at your request, to interpose for your support yisk, says your Master himself, jlsk and it shall be give?i uii" ■to you ; seek and ye shall find j knock and it shall SERMON XI. 223 shall he opened unto you. For if ye being evil blow how to give good gifts to your children, how much more shall your heavenly Father give the holy Spirit to them that ask him ? Aided by this omnipotent ally, what reason can you have to complain of weakness, or to shrink in despair from the combat that a- waits you ? He knows your frame, and he will not suffer you to be tempted above what ye are able ; hut will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may he able to hear it. But you may perhaps reply, the yoke of Christ is burdensome, not because it is heavy in itself, nor because we want power to bear it ; but because we have little affec- tion for the service. It is a weariness to us, and we languish under the continual and irksome pressure which it gives. This, I am afraid is the source of the evil. We are unwilling to resist the seductions of sin, and therefore iniquity has dominion over us. But then, you must observe that this evil springs from ourselves and from our own fault, not from any thing oppressive in the nature of our duty. To remove, however 224 SERMON XL however, even this cause of complaint, consider IV. The numerous motives which re- commend the service of Jesus to -our choice, and contribute to render his law our dehght. The master whose yoke we have taken up, is our best and most affectionate friend, who knows well our true interests, and who has given the most substantial proofs of his zeal to promote them. You have only to recal to your remembrance, the sorrows of his life spent in doing good, the agonies of crucifixion voluntarily endured for the sins of mankind, the triumphs of his soul when he saw his work of redemption finished, and pardon purchased for you — you have only to view these facts to be convinced that the service he requires of you must be intended for your advan- tage. I speak not of the gratitude which you owe to him, nor of the love which is due to his character ; though gratitude and love have often sustained far heavier bur- dens than that which he imposes on you.' I speak not even of the respect which you are SERMON XI. 225 are bound to pay him as the vicegerent of God and Prince of the moral world ; though these obligations should be more sacred in your eye than any earthly consi- deration. I speak only of your true inte- rest, and call on you to bear with chearful- ness the yoke of Christ from an enlighten- ed regard to your present and future happiness. The conduct to which it leads is perfective of your nature, and furnishes to you an infallible defence against what- ever can occasion shame or just reproach. It lays the only solid foundation for peace of mind, for lasting honour among men, for the blessing and protection of God. It will smooth to you the bed of sickness, disarm death of his terrors, and open for you at last an admission into the everlasc- ing habitation of the blessed. For that same Jesus who is your master now sits on his Father's throne, preparing mansions of glory for his servants ; and when he shall come again, his reward will be with him, to give to every man according as his work shall be. It is obvious therefore that the service of Christ is the road to true happiness arid P glorj 226 SERMON XL glory. Instead of being a burden to us, it ought to be the joy and rejoicing of our heart. Yes, O blessed Jesus, thy com- mands, as well as thy sufferings, are proofs of affection to our race. They conduct us to the true end of our being ; and therefore it becomes us thankfully to accept thy proffered guidance, and to serve thee with willingness of mind, in holiness and righteousness before thee all the days of our life. From all these reasonings, we are en- titled to conclude that the laws of Jesus, whether considered in themselves, or with respect to our power and inducements to obey them, are practicable and easy. Through our own fault indeed we may render the observance of them an intoler- able burden. Through the influence of a weak or of a melancholy temper we may plant around them a thorny hedge of superstitions, and embitter our lives by restraints, and anxieties, and terrors to which the genuine spirit of the gospel is a total stranger. By declining to exert the necessary vigilance, or by exerting it only at intervals ; by directing our whole atten- tion SERMON XL 227 tion partiully to certain virtues congenial to our temper or profession, while we allow corruption to steal in upon us from every other quarter ; or by neglecting to employ habitually the established means of spiritual edification — by these and simi- lar errors we may, no doubt, give to the powers of iniquity an undue advantage, and sink irrecoverably under the difficulties of our Christian service. But these errors spring from ourselves ; and every motive of duty and interest concurs in calling upon us to correct them. We cannot ex- pect to reach heaven unless we walk steadily in the road that leads t© it. Let us therefore lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us : Let us labour to observe the v/hole law of Christ without exception or reserve : let us apply to it the same earnestness and activity which we be- stow on the attainment of our temporal ends: and let us avail ourselves of every external and internal aid which the wisdom of our Father has provided for our support. Then may we rest assured that our advance to- wards perfection will be steady and unin- terrupted. Every new sttp will be easier p 2 and ^^28 ^ SERMON XI. and firmer than the step which preceded if, and will facilitate all the steps that are to follow. We shall run and not be weary ; we shall walk and not faint. For the angels of God will have charge concerning us to pre- serve us from falling. Our Redeemer him- self will bend from his throne to cheer us in our course of obedience; and through the influence of his grace he will carry us safe and unfatigued to the land of eternal rest* Amen. SER» SERMON XII. James, i, 8, -■ A double minded man is unstahk in all his ways, JN the commencement of this chapterj the apostle exhorts the converts from Juda- ism to bear with patience the persecutions to which their christian profession exposed them. For this purpose he advises them to ask of God the gift of heavenly wisdom, and assures them that if they ask it in faith, that is, fully convinced that their profes- sion is right, and that it is their duty to ad- here to it, they shall receive the aid that may be necessary to their support. At the same time he forewarns them, that if they ask without this conviction — if they still doubt the truth of their principles— if they p 3 hesitate 230 SEHMON XII. hesitate between the authority of Moses and the authority of Christ, uncertain which they shall follow, inclining sometimes to the one, and sometimes to the other, they have no reason to expect from heaven the grace of perseverance. Their indecision will prevent that earnest sincerity which is necessary to the success of their prayers, and will render their conduct, like the prin- ciple from which it flows, wavering and un- steady. For a double mhided man is unstable in all his 'ways. The character which the apostle here condemns, though it may appear on a cur- sory view to partake more of weakness than of wickedness, is of very prejudicial tenden- cy ; and therefore I shall describe it more particularly, unfold the evils which it pro- duces, and suggest the means of correcting it. I. This phrase, a double-minded man^ as here employed, marks out to us, not a man of hypocrisy and deceit, who forms one purpose and professes another ; but a man whose purpose is not settled. He wavers between two objects ot pursuit, as if he were actuat- ed SERMON XII. 23J td by two minds, that have different opi-- nions, and lead him in different directions. Hence he is variable and inconstant in con- duct, obeying sometimes the one impulse and sometimes the other, according as ac- cident, or circumstances, or whim may have given to it a temporary preponderance. On this account you can never foresee to any distance, the line of conduct in which he will be found. If ,you follow him into the ordinary business of the world, you see him undecided and fickle, changing frequently his plans, his friends, his connections, his residence, his habits, and the whole scheme of his life. If you look at his moral de- portment, you find him a slave to the pre* vailing passion of the moment, liberal or parsimonious, gentle or seve^-e, industrious or slothful, refined or sensual, according to the state of the weather, or the present tone of his bodily constitution. Even his reli- gious profession shifts with every gale of humour : this hour he is devout and sancti- monious, the next cold and indifferent : to- day he contends earnestly for the faith once delivered to the saints, and to-morrow he 3f/ill veer about with every wind of doc- p 4 trine; ^32 SERMON XII. trine : this year he worships regularly and as he ought, at the established altars of his country, and the next, either with itching ears he will heap to himself sectarian teach- ers according to his own lusts^ or caught in the cobwebs of a benumbing scepticism, he will care for none of these things. This inconstancy of character, in some of its shades, occurs frequently to our view, because there are many mental defects from which it may spring. It arises sometimes from a natural feebleness and timidity of mind, which bends before the force of every new motive that is presented; and sometimes from an acquired irritability of temper, ge- nerated by the affectation of extreme sen- sibility, and producing on the character ef- fects similar to those which are produced by natural imbecillity. Sometimes it arises from the undue force of a light, wandering, ill balanced imagination. Sometimes it a- rises from ignorance, or obscure undefined views of the object before us, which leave the understanding undetermined and ex- posed to the influence of contradictory il- lusions. Sometimes it arises from habits of indolent contemplation, which when not 2 accom^ SERMON XII. 233 accompanied by corresponding habits of de- cisive action, give only a facility of turning up the opposite sides of every question, and of discovering the difficulties in which it is involved, without leading to any fixed pur- pose concerning it. But most frequently this inconstancy arises from the contest of rival passions, which interfering with one an- other and prevailing by turns, dash our re- solutions against each other, and toss them hither and thither, as waves are tossed by the winds. All these causes of inconstancy, however, are subordinate to that doubleness of mind, that fluctuation of judgement which is men- tioned in the text. It is the indecision of the understanding which communicates in- decision to the feelings and the passions : it is the want of fliith, or of a steady con- viction that leaves the will irresolute, and gives instability to the conduct. While we doubt and balance and hesitate concerning the natural or moral value of the object of our choice, we can never pursue it with the full bent of our inclination. As lonsr as w^e are not fully persuaded in our own mind, we sec reasons for changing our opinion, and 234 SERMON XIL and therefore we are liable to perpetual in- consistencies. Every difficulty alarms us ; every temptation presents the case to us under a new aspect ; and every new^ aspect of the case shakes and overturns our reso- lutions. Hence we become habitually irre- solute and unsteady, and acquire by degrees that shifting, undetermined character, which renders us just objects of distrust to those with whom we associate, and disqualifies us both for the social and religious duties of our station. It is not, however, every change of opi- nion or of plan that will subject a man to the degrading imputation of doubie-mind- edness and instability. In this daik estate even the wisest of us is liable to error ; and when, in consequence either of experiment or of rational inyestigation, the error is clearly discovered, it becpmes our duty and our glory to acknowledge and renounce it. In this case change is the consequence of de- liberate enquiry and conviction ; it happens but seldom ; and when it does happen, it proceeds from a just exercise of the noblest powers which God has given us, and leads immediately to a fixed and fin^l choice. But .S E R M O N XII. QZS But the double-minded man has no steady conviction on either side; for he receives his opinion not from reason, bat from his pas- sions or his humoar. He makes no fmal choice, being habitually given to change. The sameness of an uniform and consistent conduct, like the sameness of an unvaried prospect, seems to fatigue his mind. Hence lie has no sooner engaged in one pursuit than he begins to long for another ; and having no fixed principle to guide him in his search, he gropes about for a place of rest which he is destined never to find. Thus " he is every thing by starts, and no * thing long". This fickleness and instability of charac^ ter may to some men appear a fitter subject .of ridicule than of serious reprehension. And indeed when it respects only the trifles .of ordinary life, its .correction may be safe- ly left to the laugh of the world. But when it displays itself in regard to subjects of higher importance ; when it mingles its inHueiicc with the principles of our moral and reli^ gious practice, it produces evils most ruin- ous and extensive-r-far more extensiyp and ruinou3 <2S6 SERMON XIL ruinous than can result from any single act of vice. It may therefore be proper, IT. To poitit out a few of those evils for the purpose of guarding you against the habit of mind from wiiich they spring. Under this head I shall not describe the meanness and debasement of spirit insepa- rably connected with habits of inconstancy, though nothing can more unequivocally indicate great weakness and degeneracy. For what can more degrade the character of a man than renouncing the noblest prerogative of his nature — that prudent foreca-t by which he commands events, and subjects to his purpose the variety of human tliing^s — to become the slave of accident, and to be driven like a wave of the sea and tossed ? What more dis- graceful to a Christian than, amid the shining light of the gospel, to lose his way, and wander uncertain what to pursue and what to avoid ? The wise man hath his eyes in his head and sees the path before him-; but the fool walketh in darkness and know- eth not what he is to do. Neither SERMON Xir. **7 Neither shall I unfold the ruinous in- fluence of inconstancy on your temporal prosperity, or paint its tendency to frustrate the accomplishment of all the purposes you form, to withdraw from you- the con- fidence of those who must co-operate in their execution, and to hold you up to the derision of the world as solemn trifiers who are ever busy and ever projecting, but who never advance a sirigle step towards the attainm.ent of their end. — These are con- siderations of great importance, and which merit deep attention from the men of this world. But I chuse rather to turn your viev/ to the influence which instability is likely to have on your personal happi- ness, on the progress of your virtue, and Htn your preparation for heaven. It is scarcely possible to conceive a dis- position of which the natural tendency is more unfriendly to happiness than that of the double-minded man. He lives in a state of perpetual doubt and dissatisfaction. ^,o sooner has he formed an opinion re- specting the most momentous concerns of his condition, than he begins to hesitate about its truth, and to trem.ble for the consequences 238 SERMON XIL consequences of a mistake. No sooner has he reached a desireable object, or a situa-^ tion in Hfe on which his heart was set, than under an impression of its defects, he thinks that another is better, and longs to be dehvered from it. Can happiness dwell with that man whose heart is thus divided between opposite views, distracted by con- tradictory interests, and torn by passions that mutually destroy each other I~=^who is disgusted in the evening with that which charmed him in the morning, w^ho casts down to day the structure which he reared yesterday, and, at continual variance with himself, knows no fixed point of rest ? Sooner may you expect to see a plenteous crop rise on shifting sands v/hich are swept daily by the agitations of the tide, than contentment and joy growing on a soil so faithless and unstable. But the case is still worse when we turn our eye to the moral qualities of human nature. For the unstable man, who has a conscience within him, must regard the opinions and plans he has relinquished not only as erroneous and contemptible, but often as criminal and hateful. His past life SERMON XII. £39 life must rise to his view as a succession of tollies and crimes, where httle is to be seen but abuses of his understanding and un- pardonable perversions of the talents which have been entrusted to him by his Creator. The past therefore can reflect on him few gleams of joy, and the future can pro- mise no increase to his happiness : for though he has now before him a new project of improvement ; yet conscious of his weakness, and having little reason from experience to trust that he shall have perseverance to complete it, he must often fear that ere long it will become to him a new subject of repentance and change. Agitated thus between regret for the past and fears for the future, between new plans of conduct and the anticipation of deserting them, his mind is like the troubled sea when it catinot rest. This instability of character is not only unfriendly to the temporal happiness, but also to the virtue and salvation of the man who indulges it. It cannot sustain the trials of life, and is totally inconsistent with that firm persevering fortitude which lies at the foundation of genuine worth. The double- mind- 240 SEilMON Xil. minded man hesitates about his duty ; he hahs between God and Belial, between the strait narrow path that leads to heaven, and the broad way that tendeth to destruction. Having no fixed principles of conduct, he is turned aside by every temptation, and bends before every difficulty. He has built his house upon the sand, and when the rains descend, and the floods come, and the winds blow, it falls and buries his virtue in its ruins. A righteousness of this sort which vani- shes, and reappears, and vanishes again like the sun struggling through mists, is not fit for the kingdom of heaven. Such a succes- sion of relapses — such a flux and reflux of good and bad resolutions, tends sadly to har- den and deprave the heart, to provoke the spirit of grace, and to beguile the infatuat- ed sinner of the reward after which he as- pires. It is only the man Vv'ho continues pa- tient in well-doing, rooted and stablished in the faith, that proves the sincerity and power ©f his principles ; it is he only who endiireth un* to the end that shall he saved : and to none but him who overcometh and who continues faith- SERMON XII. 241 faithful unto death, hath Christ promised a crown of hfe. From these considerations it is evident. Christians, that inconstancy is not a trivial failing which merelj exposes a man to ridi- cule, and disqualifies him f\ om acting an honourable manly part in society. It is a fuiidamental defect in his character, and a fruitful parent of the most destructive vices, It becomes us therefore III. To investigate with solicitude the means by which it may be corrected, and I. The foundation ot every attempt for the cure of the evil must be laid in a deep sense of the greatness of the malady which requires to be remedied, for otherwise we shall not be disposed to submit to the pre- scriptions that are necessary for its removal. On this account it will be useful to cherish in our minds a deep impression of the mischiefs that result from inconstancy and irresolu- tion, of the disgrace which a habit of change reflects on our character as men, of the reproach to which it exposes our Christian profession, of its malignant influence on pur temporal prosperity and happiness, and Q_ of M9, SERMON XII. of its inconsistency with the virtue and perfection of our nature. Aided by this impression it will be proper 2. That we establish in our minds some general principles to serve as maxims in the conduct of life, and that we invest them with the authority of laws, which nothing shall on any account induce us to violate. Fixed principles of this kind are for many reasons of inestimable value. They are commonly correct, being derived from very simple ideas, and formed in retirement, and at a distance from the delusions of passion. They spread their influence far and wide through the departments of human action : they are capable of easy and certain appli- cation to all the variety of particular cases which can occur : in all that variety of cases they secure consistency in our opinions and pursuits : and they are seen in every season of difficulty, as great landmarks set up in the pathless desert, to guide us safely through the precipices and pitfalls that lie in our course. To furnish the tender mind with such principles, and to give it a facility in ap- plying them is the most important pare ■ of SERMON XII. 043 of a virtuous education. Tliey serve in matters of conduct, the same useful purpose which universal truths serve in matters of science ; and, amid the diversity of springs that move us, they give to the train of our opinions and actions an uniformity which no other principle could be expected to pro- duce. It is of the greatest importance, therefore, that these regulating maxims be well established in our minds, that they be interwoven into the very texture of our in- tellectual habits, and that they suggest themselves to us readily wherever they are applicable. For thus they will shew us, as it vrere by intuition, at all times and in full brightness, the part which it becomes us to act, and from which we cannot deviate without forsaking our principles, introdu- cing inconsistency into our conduct, and condemning ourselves in that zvhich we allow. But besides forming such general princi- ples which ought to be common to all m.en, and which embrace all the possible cases of human action, it will still farther be proper 3. That every individual attend particu- larly to the peculiar business of his ov/n profession, and form a scheme of subor- Ct 2 dinate ^U SERMON XII. dinate principles suited to it, which may in all points be consistent with his general maxims, which may coalesce readily with each other, and which may all tend, through the immediate object of pursuit, towards the final perfection of his nature. By thus ar- ranging before hand the plan of his con- duct he renders the course of his life a con- sistent whole, every part of which, like the wheels in a w^ell constructed machine, has its proper place and determinate relation to the rest. Fortune may indeed often threat- en to disconcert him, and untoward inci- dents may sometimes compel him even to abandon some of the less essential parts of his system. Yet if his plan has been formed in wisdom, and conducted with a prudent accommodation tohiscircumstances, he may trust that through perseverance he will be able to subject events to his control, and to proceed by an even undeviating path to the completion pf his purpose. But in order to secure himself effectually from the numerous temptations which will infallibly occur in the course of a long and complicated train of action, it will be ne- cessary 4. That SERMON XII. 245 4. That he keep a watchful eye on the quarter from which danger is most likely to arise, and be prepared instantly to resist and repel it. With this view he must be atten- tive to the mental defects formerly describ- ed as causes of inconstancy, and especially to those which belong peculiarly to himself. For every man has a weak side — some pre- vailing infirmity — some sin that easily be- sets him. Tliis sin it is his duty to search out, and when he has found it, he must fasten on it his suspicions, and distrust all tendency to change in every matter to which it bears any relation. He must es- pecially guard his regulating principles from its corrupting power, and never listen, at its suggestion, either to the infidel or to the scorner, who seek to set his passions in op- position to the truth, and strive by their en- chantments to blind his understanding, a. id to extinguish the light that is in him. Cas- ing evil good^ and good evil, putting dark?ieTS for light, and light for darknesSi they lie in wait for the young man void of understant'- ing. They sleep not except they have done mischiefs and their sleep is taken azvay unices they cause sot^ to fall. Woe to him who Q 3 standeth 246 SERMON XII. standeth in their way, who walketh in their counsel, and who sitteth with them in the chair of the scornful. From that moment instability is written on all his pursuits. His heart becomes hard as the barren rock, and when the seeds of virtuous resolution fall on it, they are scorched and wither away because they have no root. To deliver us from these dangers we must not only form a system of principles adapted to the station we occupy, and exert our vigilance to guard them from every at- tack ; we must also, according to the ad- monition of the apostle in the verses which precede the text, 5. Ask assistance from God who giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not. He can inspire us with wise purposes, and worthy resolutions. He is himself the Lord who changeth not, and he loveth to see in his children the image of his own stedfastness. Let us therefore ask him with earnestness to shew us the way in which we ought to walk, and enable us to follow it ; to en- dow us with the spirit of counsel for discern- ing our true interests, and with the spirit of might resolutely to pursue them ; to be. at SERMON XII. 247 at our right hand when the spirit of change approaches ; and, amid all the fluctuations of fashion and of folly, to preserve us stead- fast and immoveable in the discharge of our duty. We know that his ear will be open to our cry ; and in testimony of our full conviction that he will hear us, and that he is able to keep us from falling, and to pre- sent us faultless before the presence of his glory with exceeding joy — let us ascribe to Him the only wise God our Saviour, glory and majesty, dominion and power, both now and for ever. Amen. Q.4 SER- SERMON XIII. LuKZ; xxi, ly. ^■'' -In your patience fosse&s ye your souh. XN this chapter Jesus forwarns his discipiss of approaching calamities. The period fixed in the decree of heaven for dissolving the Jewish state was at hand, and unusual commotions boch in the natural and moral world were to announce the hear of its destruction. The horrors of foreign and domestic war were to desolate the land ; earthquakes, and pestilence, and famine were to consume its strength ; and fearful visions of evils indefinite, and therefore still more alarming, were to terrify the minds of its inhabitants. Amidst these portentous ©vents the lot of the faithful Christian was to SERMON XIII. ei.^ to be peculiarly severe. Regarded by the superstition of his countrymen as accursed of God, as a pollution to their land, and as therefore accessary to the public disasters which threatened them, he was to become the object of their bitterest vengeance. But his cause Vv^as the cause of God ; and when the storm beat around him, it became him to retire within himself and resting on the shield of his own integrity, to commit himself to the protection of heaven, and in his patience to possess his soul. Though we, my brethren, may not be called to encounter evils equal to those ex- perienced by the first Christians ; yet the scene in which we are placed presents to us innumerable occasions for the exercise of that patience and self-possession which were recommended to them. In the fol- lowing discourse, therefore, I shall briefly consider the nature of this virtue, the in- ducernents to cultivate it, and the means by which it may be attained. I. Patience in general denotes a state of mind suited to^suffering — a state which bears us up against the impressions of pain, and S50 SERMON XIIL which maintains us in the free exercise of reason and conscience amid all the evils to which we are exposed. As these evils are of very different kinds, there must of course be a corresponding variety in the appear- ances of the virtue which enables us to sup- port them. According as they seem to pro- ceed from God, from our neighbour, or from our own fault ; according as they af- fect immediately oiir body or our mind, our reputation or our fortune, our wishes or our fears, the fo ce of mind w^hich enables us to meet them will assume peculiar cha- racters suited to the circumstances in which we are placed. It will become resignation, meekness, tranquillity, acquiescence, resolu- tion, fortitude or intrepidity according to the kind, and degree of evil which it has to conquer. But in ail these cases patience is the fundamental quality, and manifests itself by that calm endurance which flinches not from the difficulties of our lot ; by that steady composure which prevents every use- less expression of our suffering, and by that self-possession which enables us to do the duties of the moment, and to take the mea- sures proper for our condition. The SERMON XIII. 251 The virtue which manifests itself by these effects does not, however, imply insensibi- lity to the evils which afflict us. Pain is one of the great springs appointed by Pro- vidence to move the activity both of our in- tellectual and moral powers, and must be felt before it can produce the valuable ends which it is intended to serve. Without the admonitions which it gives, we should not be qualified to subsist in the circum- stances of our present condition. It can never therefore be our duty to eradicate the sensibilities of our nature, nor even to blunt their delicacy. The man of patience feels the evils of his situation, and feels them as acutely as any other man ; but he is not conquered by them. He has a mind above their power : and though his body must yield to their natural effect on the human constitution ; though he will seek earnestly relief from God, and employ every proper mean to obtain it, he cannot be driven by their influence to resign his self command, to mutter unavaiUng complaints, or to do any thing inconsistent with his duty. It is true that a difference in point of constitutional sensibility may render the support 5252 SERMON XIII. support of external evils more easy to some men than to others. Where pain is little felt, little force of mind, and consequently- little vittue, is required to bear it. The composure manifested in these circum- stan<:es deserves the name of apathy rather than of patience ; and however useful it may be on some occasions to the tran- quillity of the sufferer, it is not a moral per- fection, and cannot much exalt our opinion of his merit. The same observation applies, in a great degree, to that partial semblance of patience which bears with apparent fortitude some of the evils that assail us, while it bends easily, and sinks under others. The hero, who in the field of glory can brave toil and wounds and deadi, has been often conquer- ed by neglect, and found impatient of sick- ness, of contradiction or of hope deferred. Tlie loss of fortune overwhelms one man, and the loss of friends another; while a third, by whom these evils are scarcely felt kindles into fury at the feeling of injustice, or pines away inconsolable under the poi- soned blast of calumny. Nay, the very same evils which the sufferer has often met and conquered, SERMON XIII. 253 conquered, are every day seen sufficient to unnerve and subdue him, when they ap- proach in new circumstances, or under forms with which the imagination i§ less famihar. Now in all these cases the endurance, though useful in itself, and though sometimes ac- companied with a degree of vutue, does not amount to the patience which religion re- quires. It proceeds not from the proper motive ; it resides not with the govern hig principles of the mind ; its effects are not uniform and universal. Flowing from ca- sual associations, and receiving hi tie direc- tion from reason, it is not at our command, and cannot support our constancy under all the variety of ills which assail us. The patience then, in which we are ex- horted to possess our souls, is neither insen- sibility to the hardships of our lot, nor that partial endurance which manifests itself only on particular occasions. It is a fixed and permanent capacity of resisting the evils which we feel,from whatever cause they may arise, or in whatever form they may assail us. Resting on a noble firmness of mind, either infused by God himself into the prin- ciples of our frame, or formed within us by habitual 254 SERMON XIIL habitual sentiments of duty, it meets the whole family of pain with undaunted coun- tenance ; and though pierced and wounded by the arrows that fall on it, advances through them, calm and unconquered, to the object of pursuit. Of this steady suffering virtue which is not overcome of evil, which bears with calmness the inflictions of Providence, and the injustice of the world ; which takes pa- tiently the spoiling of goods, the death of friends, the pinings of disease, and the pangs of disappointed hope ; which looks back without murmuring to comforts that are lost, and forward without despair to the still blacker storms that seem gathering on our way — of this calm unsubdued patience we have many instructive examples in the his- tory of the saints. See Moses in the wilder- ness of Sinai wounded by the ungrateful suspicions of the people, and provoked by their endless reproaches and rebellions, yet advancing at their head, and earnestly in- terceding with heaven for forgiveness to them. See Eli grieved by the misconduct of his sons, forewarnedof the judgments that awaited them, beholding in terrific vision the SERMON XIII. 255 the approaching dissolution of his house, and saying, " It is the Lord, let him do what seemeth him good." Behold Job, once the greatest of all the men of the east, suddenly stript of his possessions, receiving in one hour accountsof thelossof allhisflocks and herds, of the murder of his servants, of the death of his seven sons, and of his three daughters — See him after all this smitten in person with sore disease, yet mingling praises with his groans, and replying to the insults of those who should have comforted him, The Lord gave^ and the Lord hath taken away, blessed be the name of the Lord. Shall we re- ceive good at the hand of God, and shall we not receive evil. Contemplate the noble army of witnesses who for the sake of a good conscience zvere tortured not accepting deliverance; who had trials of cruel mockings and scourging s ; yea ?Jior cover of bonds and im- prisonments ; who tuere stoned and satvn asun- der, and tempted and slain with the szvord, he- ingldestitute, afflicted, tormented. Contemplate the lives of these illustrious sufferers, and mark the nature and the power of their pa- tience. Above all turn your eye to the his- tory of your Redeemer, THE MAN OF SOR- ROWS, 2o6 SERMON XIIL ROWS, and learn from him how to conduct yourselves through all the variety of human, misery. See him pinched with bitter pover- ty, houseless and unhonoured, sore vexed with the wickedness and ingratitude of those among whom he lived, pierced by the roughest shafts of calumny, persecuted by enemies, betrayed by the companion whom he trusted, deserted in the hour of his ut- most need by the friends whom he had chosen from the world, and dragged at last through many painful indignities to a cruel and ignominious death. — See him through t lis sad succession of suffering exhibitmg often signs of the keenest and most exquisite sensibility, sweating, in the agony of his soul, as it were great drops of blood falling to the ground ; yet preserving throughout the evenness and composure of a great unbroken mind. No complaint escapes him, no w^ord unbecoming the character which he sus- tained. He neglects no duty to God or to man which the present circumstances of his condition required. His whole conduct displays the attention, and freedom, and dignity of a mind perfectly at ease. IVben reviled be reviled not again; when he suf-- fered^ SERMON XIII. 257 fired^ he threatened not ; hut committed him^ self to him whojudgeth righteously* Behold, Christians, this patern of suffering vir^ tue ! It will enlighten you concerning the true nature of christian fortitude, and explain better than a thousand precepts how in patience you should possess your souls. From these reasonings and examples it is obvious that the patience which thus sus- tains the ills of life depends in a great mea- sure on the sufferer himself. It is the child of virtuous resolution ; — the attribute of a mind fortified by early habits of self-com- mand, and enlightened by a just view of the divine government, and of the trials that are necessary to form man to perfection. It is, at the same time, a virtue very diffi- cult to practise. It is opposed to pain, the first, the most powerful, and the most con- tinued stimulant that affects us from with- out ; and its exertions are often called for in the absence of those animating consider- ations which support the practice of so many other virtues. The magistrate, for instance, encounters the fatigues of public duty en- couraged by the knowledge that he acts in the view of his country j the hero is urged R to 258 SERMON XIII. glory by the voice of fame : and deeds of beneficence are immediately repaid both by the gratitude of the receivers, and by the affectionate homage of all who witness their effect. But the patient sufferer most fre- quently sits alone ; his most meritorious struggles are unseen ; and his noblest vic- tories, unaided by foreign support, are due solely to the vigour of his own mind, and to his sense of what is right. On this ac- count, it may be useful as we proposed, II. To state more particularly the in- ducements that recommend the cultivation of this virtue. And here I begin by observing that the exercise of patience is highly conducive to happiness. It both diminishes the pain of the sufferer, and gives satisfaction to all 'who witness his conduct. Man is born unto trouble as the sparks fly jipward. By the appointment of heaven, suffering is indispensibly requisite to our improvement ; and therefore we cannot possibly escape the causes from which it comes. But by bearing it calmly we may soften and alleviate the uneasiness which S E U M O N XIIL Q59 which it produces. Though the dart must fall and wound us, the balm of patience will check the rankling of its poison, and give us peace even in the midst of sorrow. To many of the evils which afflict the hearts of men, patience brings instant and infallible relief. Besides preserving to the understanding that calmness and freedom of thought which enable us to see and to employ the best means of deliverance, it frequently operates as a direct antidote to the sorrow that oppresses us. This is the case particularly with all those disquietudes which spring from opinion, and which re- gard things external to ourselves, such as fortune, honours or power. These objects derive their charm from accidental associa- tions ; they are not necessary constituents of human happiness, and patience under the loss of them soon gives to the mind an experimental conviction that ©ur self-en- joyment is beyond their reach, that they are only ambiguous blessings, and that therefore we need not be much dejected at their departure. Nay, even for evils that assail us more closely, and affect our per- sonal condition —for bodily pain and disease R 2 themselves 260 SERMON XIII. themselves, there is no balsam, no restora- tive more effectual than the exercise of patience. It sweetens the humours of the body, and by giving rest to the animal system, allows the healing powers of nature to produce their effect undisturbed. Ask your physician, and he will tell you that the composure which patience inspires is essential to the success of all his prescrip- tions, that the stores of his art contain no alterative so powerful as the human ima- gination, and that there is no medicine equal in virtue to the medicine of a quiet and contented mind. The exercise of patience, therefore, con- tributes directly to the advantage of the sufferer himself. It renders him at the same time more amiable and interesting to others, and consequently draws to him their kindness and esteem. He vexes not, nor repels his dependents by the outbreak- ings of peevishness ; he offends no man by murmurs and complaints ; but, even in the midst of his deepest afflictions, exhibits to those who approach him, the subUme at- tractive spectacle of a countenance smiling in grief; of a mortal man who feels his 5 sorrows 3ERM0N XIII. £6i sorrows, but whom neither fear nor dis- tress, nor torture can subdue. It is obvious then that this state of mind diminishes the sura of human misery ; and that when pain was sent unto the earth, for the pur- poses of correction, patience was, in wis* dom and mercy, appointed to accompany it, to soften its aspect, and to render it in the end subservient to happiness. But patience is not only useful as ^ shield to our happiness. It is also 2. A duty which we are bound to prac- tise. The pains and calamities to which we are subject form a part in the established order of providence. They proceed from God, and are as necessary to the comple- tion of his purpose, as any of the other ar- rangements by which he governs this lower w^orld. Many beneficial effects resulting from them to the general system of things are obvious even to our eye ; and there may be many others which lie beyond the sphere of our vision. But whatever be their ef- fects, they are part of the order of nature ; they come upon us by the ordination of heaven ; and it is our duty to submit to R -z him 262 SERMON XIIL him who hath appointed them. While our condition on the whole affords a surplus of happiness, either in enjoyment or in pros- pect, we have no reasonable foundation for complaint, even though our sufferings were in no degree the consequences of our own fault. For as the scriptures argue, who art thou, 0 man, that repliest against God f shall the thing formed say to him that formed it, why hast thou made me thus f Is it not lazvful for him to do what he will with his own f Though therefore we knew no reason for the ap- pointment of the sorrows he has destined for us, it would be our duty as the creatures of God to bear them with patience. But if they be, a;^ they certainly are, consequen- ces of our sins, and means of correcting our errors — if they contribute to raise us from the debasement of our fall, and to nurse within us the noblest and most honourable virtues, wherefore should a living man com- plain ? Is he not bound by a sense of what he owes both to God and to himself to turn to the best advantage the circumstances in which he is placed, and to practise the vir- tues which they are fitted to form ? In this view patience under the hardships of our condi- SERMON XIIl. 05J condition would be a duty in itself, though it were connected with no other obligation, and led to no recompence of glory. But when we consider that it lies at the founda- tion of a manly character, that it is an ele- ment in the composition of all the more dignified virtues, and that it draws, in an e- minent degree, the esteem and admiration of mankind, can there remain any doubt concerning our obligation to cultivate it ? Without it there could be no steadiness nor consistency in our conduct — no perseve- rance in valuable pursuits — no firmness in a good cause — no heroic fortitude in the midst of dangers and death. These, how- ever, are qualities of high worth, which throw an interest and dignity around the sufferer, which tend more than any others to ennoble their possessor, and which make an essential part in our conception of a perfect character. The patience therefore which forms them must be a duty of great importance ; — a duty which cannot be ne- glected without undermining the very foun- dations of all virtuous attainment. These considerations demonstrate that the state of mind recommended by the text R 4 is 264 SERMON XIII. is indispensible both to the happiness and to the perfection of our nature. The art of maintaining it through all the various disquietudes of our lot is perhaps the most valuable art which we are called to culti- vate. And I therefore propose, in another discourse, to lay down some rules for your assistance in this important duty. 3ER- SERMON XIV. The Game Suhjcct continued Luke, xxt, 19. •- In your patience, possess ye your souls, W E have already seen that patience is a state of mind suited to suffering ; that though it does not destroy our sense of pain, it bears us up under the various evils of our lot, maintaining the soul through them all in the free exercise of its powers, and in the manly discharge of the duties becoming our condition. It is a virtue very difficult to practise ; but the occasions which call for it are numerous ; and the possession of it is indispensibly necessary both to our happi- ness, and to the moral perfection of our na- ture. No art can be more valuable in it- self, or more useful in its effects, or cultivat- ed 266 SERMON XIV. ed with greater certainty of success. It is of great importance therefore that we un- derstand the means of acquiring it, and that we be resolved habitually and stea- dily to employ them. With a view to assist you in this pursuit, I propose at pre- sent to suggest some rules which, through the blessing of God, may tend to fortify you against the disquietudes of your con- dition, and to enable you to possess your souls in patience. — And I. It will be useful that we meditate fre- quently on the contingencies of our present condition, and on the certainty that afflic- tion in some of its forms must fall to our share. We shall thus become familiar with its appearances, and meet its approach with all the advantage which due forethought and preparation are fitted to give. That no man can promise to himself per- petual exemption from suffering is a truth obvious to daily observation. Nay, amid the shiftings of the scene in which we are placed, who can say that, for one hqur, his happiness is secure ? The openings through which we may be assailed are so numerous I and SERMON XIV. 267 and unguarded, that the very next monicat may see some messenger of pain piercing the bulwarks of our peace. Our body may become the seat of incurable di^^ea: c. Car mind may become a prey to unaccountable and imaginary fears. Our fortune may bink in some of those revolutionary tempests which overwhelm so often the treasures of the wealthy. Our honours may wither on our brow, blasted by the slanderous breath of an enemy. Our friends may prove faithless in the hour of need, or they may be separated from us for ever. Our chil- dren, the fondest hope of our hearts, may be torn from us in their prime ; or they may wound us still more deeply by their undutifulness and misconduct. Alas ! my brother of the dust, in this uncertainty of worldly blessings, where is the joy on earth in which thou canst repose thy confidence ? or what defence canst thou rear against the in- roads of adversity ? Dost thou hope that by rising to power, or by increasing thy goods, thou wilt ensure the continuance of thy comfort ? Vain Man ! hast thou not seen that the loftiest mountain meets first the lightenings of the sky, and that the spread- ing ^68 SERMON XIV. ing tree, when loaded with the glories of its foliage and fruit, is most easily broken by the fury of the blast ? In this manner, the children of this world, by multiplymg their stores and exte^iding their connections, fur- nish a broader mark to the arrows of mis- fortune, and with the greater certainty suf- fer disappointment and sorrow. Since therefore pain in some of its forms will certainly overtake us, it becomes us to live in expectation of its approach. By so doing, we shall be freed at least from the danger of surprize, and prepared by our previous habits of reflection to exert our fortitude, (v/here it is most necessary) on the first attack of distress. Thus time will be given to summon up the auxiliaries of our patience, and to recollect that the sufferings we endure, are the unavoidable lot of humanity. And when we are satis- fied that no temptation hath taken us but what is common to mian, we shall meet with courage the appointed trials of our virtue, and resolve that what we must bear^ we will bear like men. 2. We SERMON Xrr. oQg C. We should cultivate habitually the temper of mind that is favourable to patience. There are various dispositions of soul on which this virtue grows naturally as on its proper soil. In some men we find a light- ness and gaiety of heart which adversity cannot depress. They view all events on the fairest side ; they see readily, and asso- ciate with their own condition, the springs of comfort ; they are disposed to laugh at care, and to play even with their misfor- tunes. To others the balm of hope comes to mitigate their afflictions. Through the dark magnifying cloud of sorrow in which fear would invest their present sufferings, they look at the sunshine on the distant: mountains, and wait in patience for the ex- pected time of deliverance. There are others still who from calmness of temper and moderation in desire easily resist the transports of passion. They feel not the keenness of worldly enterprize, because they do not set a high value on the objects towards which it is directed ; and hold on the noiseless tenor of their way through restraints and disappointments which rouse the Q70 SERMON XI^-. the man of ambition into madness. Now as these and similar states of mind are friendly to the exercise of patience, it becomes us in our endeavours to learn this virtue to direct to them a share of our attention — to be habitually as chearful, as free from anxiety, and as full of hope, as may be consistent with the peculiarities of our natural constitution, and the course which it marks out for our improvement. We should especially labour to avoid the stings of an evil conscience ; for self re- proach adds poison to misfortune. It ren- ders the mind sore, fretful, and sus- picious ; more susceptible of injury from outward distress, more liable to internal disquietude, more ready to vent its uneasi- ness in fretfulness and complaint. It be- comes him who would acquire the virtue of jjatience therefore to watch over the ge- neral temper of his mind ; because he may be assured that a merry heart will he a con- tinual feast and, do good like a medicine ; that to the upright light will arise in darkness ; and that great peace have they tvho love the laiv of Gody and nothing shall offend them, q. In SERMON XIV. 271 3. In the prospect of cultivating this vir- tue, we should accustom ourselves betimes to exertions of patience, and learn from the actual suffering of inconvenience to endure hardiness as good soldiers of Jesus Christ. Man, with respect both to his intellectual and moral attainments, is very much the creature of habit. And in no instance is the power of this principle more conspicu- ous than in fortifying his mind against the impressions of pain. The peasant and the labourer sustain without effort toils and pri- vations which, if suddenly applied, would overwhelm those who have been nursed in the bosom of plenty. Men accustomed to misfortune seem scarcely to feel the weight of calamities, which, if they fell on the prosperous, would bend them at once in sor- row to the ground. Their sensibility to suf- fering is blunted ; the active exertion neces- sary to resist it has become easy through re- petition ; and they find from experience that the prospect of evil is much more into- lerable than its actual endurance. Hence it is obvious, that in a state where pain must often be our lot, we should prepare to meet it, as the soldier prepares himself for the fa- tigues 272 SERMON XIV. tigues of a campaign, by voluntary cohfncts with misfortune, and by bearing manfully the lesser hardships of ordinary life. These hard- ships we should not be too anxious to avoid ; we should not murmur at them when they overtake us ; nor train ourselves to future misery by stretching ourselves for ever on the bed of indulgence. It is good for a man that he bear the yoke in his youth; and whatever the fond mother may fear, there is no part of her son's education more essential to his welfare than those restraints, and severities, and bit- ter contests with his equals, which the fe- verish sensibility of modern softness has too often affected to deplore. 4. We should fortify ourselves against the day of misfortune by rendering familiar to our minds all the considerations which prove patience to be a duty which we can- not innocently neglect. A sense of duty has powerful force in producing the exertions that are requisite to its discharge. In virtuous minds it is su- perior to every other motive, and carries them forward to the work of righteousness in defiance of difficulty or danger. Being connected in their thoughts with the ideas of SERMON XI V. £73 of indispensible obligation, of divine assist- ance, and of future reward, it is felt as a pre- vailing incentive to the course of conduct which it recommends. Of what value then must it be in the study of patience to have on our minds a steady conviction that the want of it is a defect in our character, and a direct violation of our duty ! The considerations which demonstrate that patience is a moral duty were formerly explained at length. It is a state of mind suited to the circumstances in which we are placed by the great Author of our being — = it is an ornament to the human character — it forms an element in the composition of all its higher virtues — it is subsidiary to their practice, and must therefore be fol- lowed by a portion of their reward. If these considerations rest on our thoughts, they will awaken within us the sentiments of duty ; they will guard us against the bursts of impatience as a degradation of our cha- racter ; they will suggest to us that impa- tience is not only an imperfection, of which we should be ashamed, but also re- bellion against heaven ; and under this im- pression, they will enable us, when tried s with 274 SERMON XIV. with sore affliction, to say with Job, Wh hath hardened himself against God and prosper^ ed f Till I diey I will not remove my integrity from me ; my righteousness I hold fast ^ and tvill not let it go, my heart shall not reproach me so long as I live. 5. We should accustom ourselves to con* sider the evils Vv^hich befal us in their true point of view as exercises of our virtue, and means of promoting bur future good. It seems to be a general rule in the im- provement of human nature, that every ad- vance which we niake towards perfection is preceded bya feeling of uneasiness. In almost all cases, painful impressions are requisite to rouse our slumbering powers into action. Our perceptive faculties, the first instruments of thought, and the inlets of all our knowledge from without, do not exert themselves till stimulated by the forcible application of external bodies to our organs of sense. The understanding does not employ its higher powers to combine the information which the senses furnish, till such combination be- comes necessary for removing some experi- enced inconvenience. A.nd our will must feel the stings of desire, before it put into motion SERMON XIV. 275 motion the active springs of the soul. The feeling of evil therefore must, from his very- constitution, be to man the great incentive to beneficial exertion. Accordingly we find from experience that the painful sensations of hunger and thirst called forth the first efforts of his animal nature to obtain relief; that the feebleness of the individual, the dangers that beset him, and the horrors ot solitude drove him into society, and retain him in it : and that the new wants which so- ciety generated, together with its competi- tions, its oppressions, and its wars, have gra- dually unfolded the latent capacities of his mind, and raised him to that intellectual perfection in which we now behold him. As the wants and difficulties of life have thus obviously tended to expand and perfect the capacities of our intellectual nature, so we have reason, both from experience and scripture, to believe that distress and afflic- tion are no less salutary in their influence on our virtue. They are the storms which agitate and purify the moral sky. Though just consequences of our misconduct, they are converted, by the wisdom of our Father, into m^aiis of correcting it ; and though for s 2 the ^76 SERMON XlV. the present they be not joyous but grievous^ nevef" theless they yield the peacable fruits of right C' ousness to them who are exercised thereby. Disease stops the sinner in his career of folly, rouses him to serious reflexion, and at the same time weakens the passions that seduced him. Loss of friends and of worldly sub- stance is frequently the mean of rectifying disorders in the state of our affections, of teaching us the vanity of confiding in ad- ventitious advantages, and of demonstrating that to man there is no blessing on earth equal to that of virtue and a good con- science. In short, every sorrow which we feel, whatever its cause may be, is calculated to try the sincerity of our principles; to call up within us the manly powers of resist- ance ; and, by the compelled exercise of faith and fortitude, to train us gradually to the dignity and perfection of our nature. The sadness of the countenance^ therefore, is employed to make the heart better. And when we are in heaviness through manifold tempta- tions^ it is that the trial of our faiths being much more precious than that of gold which pe- rishethy may be found unto praise, and honour, and glory i at the appearitig of Jesus Christ. A firm SERMON XIV. 277 A firm and habitual conviction of this general doctrine will prove a powerful sup- port to the heart, either in the prospect, or under the feeling of any particular afflic- tion. Instead of repining at the misfor^ tunes that have overtaken us, if misfortunes they may be called, it will lead us to ex- amine the use that should be made of them, to apply ourselves resolutely to improve the advantage which they furnish, and to count it all joy when zve fall iJito divers temptations^ knowing that the trying of our faith worketb patience^ aud patience expeiience^ and expert- ence hope^ and that hope is to a good man the anchor of the soul, and the pledge of future salvation In conformity with this rule we should, as a support to patience 6. Cherish in our hearts a deep con- yiction of the superintending care of Provi- dence, and of the happiness prepared in heaven for those who have struggled and overcome. The present state of things is a system of means appointed by the Almighty for re- storing the perfection of our fallen race. All its parts are under his direction, and each of them in its proper place, advances s q the 5278 SERMON XIV. the purpose of his goodness. The evils with which it abounds are especially the in- struments by which he accomplishes his gracious designs. They come at his com-» mand ; they fulfil the decree which he hath given ; and when they have served their ap- pointed end, he dismisses them from the scene. ^hall there he evil in a city^ and the Lord hath not done it f Tea, saith He, / am the Lord alone, and there is none else^ I form, the light and create darkness ; I make peace and create eml ; I the Lord do all these things* "Why then should the faithful servant of God murmur at the hardships of his condi- tion ? Whatever these hardships may be, whether they affect your health or your for- tune, your reputation or your life, they are the appointment of your Father, who knows their number, weight and measure, who accommodates them to the respective necessities of his children, who sees the ef- fect which each of them produces, and who causes them all to work together for your good. AH the parts of his wide dominion are at every moment present to his view. Not a sparrow falleth to the ground without his notice : aud the very hairs of your head are all numbered : SERMON XIV^ 279 numbered. He standeth by your side when you lie down, and when you rise up : and he hath promised that if you trust in him, he will never leave you nor forsake you ; that his grace will be sufficient for you ; and in particular that he will not suffer you to be tempt edy or afflicted, above that ye are able ^ but will, with the temptation also make a way to escape^ that ye may be able to bear it. The sorrows that try our patience then are continually in the han^ of God, and they are permitted, as instruments of his go- vernment, to afflict us for the most friendly purpose — to detach our hearts from this world, to inflame us with a desire of the in- corruptible happiness of heaven, and to ren* der us worthy of the glory that remains to be revealed. For those who bear them with Christian fortitude they prepare the honour of a nobler reward. What are these., said the JElder to St. John, beholding in vision the future condition of the blessed, What are these which are arrayed in white robes f and whence come they f These are they who came out of great tribulation., and have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. Therefore are they before the throne S4 of 280 SERMON XIV. of Godj and serve him day and night in his temple. — If then, Christians, we wish to at- tain the grace of patience, let these consol- ing thoughts rest on the imagination of our hearts. DwelUng thus, as it were, in the secret place of the Most High, we shall abide under the shadow of his wings. And when the arrows of adversity fly around us, secure under the shield of the Almighty, w6 shall be able to say with the apostle, Nay in all these things I am more than a con- queror ;for I know in whom I have believed, and I am persuaded that be is able to keep that which I have cominitted to him. The rules which I have now explained, Christians, are of great importance. The habitual observance of them will gradually form a temper of mind which is allied to all the virtues. It will fortify you especially, not only against those transient bursts of impatience which trifling causes sometimes excite in ill regulated minds, but against the dejection and sorrows which flow from deep affliction. In those dark seasons when the comforts of this world are withdrawing — when inevitable dangers press thick and close around us — when we languish under the SERMON XIV. 281 the hopeless pain of incurable disease — when death tears from us in succession the dearest objects of our affection — or when we stand ourselves on the brink of the grave, called to give an account of our stewardship, what support will arise to the soul from the habits of thought which have now been suggested, and from the conviction that aid cometh to us from the Lord who made the heavens and the earth -^ To him therefore, in addition to our own preparations, to him our voice will rise in fervent prayer for grace to help us in the time of need. Submitting ourselves in humility to his appointments, and suppressing every rebellious murmur, we shall implore wisdom to discern the true use of our sorrows, and strength to bear them with becoming fortitude. Under this discipline patience will have her perfect work ; even to them who have no might it will increase strength ; and our light qfflic- tio?iy which is but for a moment, will work for us afar more exceeding and an eternal zv eight of glory. Amen. Sf:R- SERMON XV. Acts xxyr, 17, li -Unto rcho77i I send thee, to open their eyes, and to turn them from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God, that they may reeeive forgiveness of sins, and inheritance among them which arc sanctified by faith that is in me, .1 HESE words form part of the charge dcr li vexed to the Apostle Paul at the time of his conversion. Under the influence of an honest but mistaken zeal for the institution? of Moses, he was on his way to Damascus with a commission to persecute and impri- son the followers of Christ. As he jour- neyed, and had come near to that city, a light from heaven, above the brightness of the sun^ shone round about him. Jesus descending from on high appeared to him in person^ reproved SERMON XV. 283 reproved his persecuting spirit, communi- cated to him new views of divine truth, and charged him thenceforth to employ his zeal in support of that faith which he was now labouring to subvert. / have appeared unto thee for this purpose^ to make thee a minister and a zvitness both of these things which thou bast seen^ and of those things in the which I will appear unto thee ; delivering thee from the people, and from the gentiles^ unto whom now I send thee^ to open their eyes^ and to turn them from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God, that they may receive forgive- TJess of sins, and inheritance among them zvhich are sanctified by faith that is in me. The words of the text, tl:ierefore, contain the instructions which Jesus himself gave to Paul, for directing him in the future dis- charge of his duty as a preacher of the gos- pel. They explain to him the end of those labours in which he was now called to en- gage, and the means by which that end was to be effected. Guilty men were to be pre- pared for the favour of God and an heaven- ly inheritance, through their deliverance from the power of the devil, by the know- ledge which the preaching of the gospel should 284 SERMON XV. should convey. Accordingly the Apostle is sent to open their eyes, for the purpose of turning them from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God, in order that they may receive forgiveness of sins, and inheritance among them that are sanc- tified by the faith in Christ. From this passage, then, we recelvje a clear explanation of the method in which, by the appointment of God, and under the influence of his spirit, the gospel accom- plishes its purpose. It prepares the faithful for heaven by the effectual culture which it gives both to the intellectual and moral powers of our nature. It cor^veys light to the understanding ; and that light unveil* ing the delusions of sin, destroys its power over the heart, and improves the whole man. It thus renders us proper subjects of pardon, and qualifies us for the inheritance of the saints. It may be useful, ij-/. To review briefly the principal points of this divine know- ledge which the gospel communicates ; and zdly. To shew that all this knowledge is practical, and ipust operate in prenaring us fox SERMON XV. . 285 for heaven, by reforming and sanctifying the heart. I. The revelation which contains this precious deposit of hght and truth became necessary to man only in consequence of the fall. The happiness and perfection of his primitive condition v»^ere sufficiently se- cured by the natural powers of that frame which, on the day of his creation, God pro- nounced to be good. Revelation was an extraordinary expedient, accommodated to a new state of being, for v/hich the original constitution of things had made no adequate provision. Its doctrines, therefore, must be expected to have often a character which the natural reason of man could not antici- pate ; and they must have a peculiar refe- rence to the principles of conduct which suited the new circumstances in which he was placed. Hence the teachers of religion can have no peculiar light to give us con- cerning the animal state of man, and the arts subservient to his temporal subsistence and accommodation ; because for these pur- poses sufficient provision is made in the ra- tional principles of his frame. The instruc- tions SS6 SERMON XV. tions sent from heaven refer chiefly to his moral condition, and to the arrangements made, under the divine government, for re- covering him from the power and punish- ment of in. On these points, the scriptures give us the most direct and satisfactory information. They teach us that Jesus the Son of God, the brightness of his glory, and the express image of his person, was appointed from the beginning to administer a spiritual king- dom established for destroying the work of the devil, and for restoring the race of men to their place in the family of heaven : that for this purpose, the way before him being prepared by a m.ost wonderful series of events, he appeared on earth to reveal to them the will of God, and by the sacrifice of himself, to make complete satisfaction for their offences : that rising from this state of liumihation, he now sits at his Father's right hand, the King and Guardian of his people, pleading their cause, sending from on high, through the intervention of the Holy Ghost, power to aid them in their labours of vir- tue ; and by the over-ruling energy of his providence, causing all things to work toge- ther SERMON XV. 287 ther for promoting their salvation : that at the consummation of his plan, he will come, in the glory of his power, to make a final separation between the righteous and the wicked ; and in the viev/ of assembled worlds, to give to each of them the recom- pence that is meet : and that then shall be the end, when having destroyed the last ene- my deaths and gathered into one all things that are in heaven and on earth, he shall deliver the kingdom to the Father^ that God may be all in all. The interests of this invisible kingdom of grace have had the most important and ex- tensive influence on the course of human affairs. It was the pecuHar charge of Pro- vidence from the beginning of the world, and in subservience to it, empires rose and fell. But of this influence, and even of the kingdom itself, human reason could never have discovered the smallest trace. The clear and consolatory knowledge which we now possess concerning its origin, its progre.ss. its means of accomplishing its object, its be- neficial effects, and its final consummation. flows solely from the gospel of Christ, and forms a portion of that heavenly light which his Apostles were sent to shed on the nations. But 288 SERMON XT. But besides revealing to us this great bo- dy of interesting truths, of which ho ray could otherwise have reached us, the gospel of Jesus has, in a remarkable degree, en- larged and corrected all the knowledge which nature could furnish for directing the moral conduct of man. It explains to him distinctly his origin and end, the na- ture of his present condition, the relations which he bears to other beings, especially to God and his fellow men, the various du- ties to which these relations give rise, the consequent obligations that bind him to discharge them, the means of his rising to^ moral perfection, and the inestimable re- ward prepared in heaven for them, who by a patient continuance in well- doing seek for glory^ and honour, and immortality. On these subjects the powers of the ha= man understanding could indeed make some discoveries. The invisible things of God might be seen from the creation of the world, being understood by the things that are made, even his eternal power and Godhead. Men were by nature a law unto themselves^ and shewed the works of the law written in their hearts. And there has been no nation where SERMON XV. 289 v/here the sanctions of duty, and the hope of better things to come, have not been occasionally felt and cherished as supports to the soul. But how feeble, alas ! and un- certain, how shifting and deceit ml was the light enjoyed, on these points, even by the wisest of the heathen ! And among the bo- dy of the people, how sadly was even this pale glimmering, broken and dispersed by the mists of superstition and idolatry ! When they knew God they glorified him not as God J hut changed the glory of the uncorruptible God into an image made like to corruptible man^ and to birds ^ and four footed beasts, and creeping things. In these circumstances, how vvas it possible to prevent their judgments of duty from being corrupted by the impurities of tlieir rehgious creed, and from being regula- ted more by views of expediency than by the feeling of moral obUgation? Row could they believe that clean hands and a pure heart were necessary to the acceptable worship of Divinities who were themselves the slaves of appetite and passion ? What feel- ings of shame or remorse could they con- nect with crimes, through which their Gods had risen to the skies ? And by what pro- T cess 290 SERMON XV. cess of reasoning could they be persuaded that the blessings of the future world (if a future world at all existed) were to be re- served, under the government of such beings, for the reward of integrity and vir- tue ? It would be easy to pursue this train of thought, and to shew from innumerable facts, that the moral information furnished by the light of nature was defective in itself, and, from the circumstances in which it ap- peared, totally incapable of being applied to reform the human heart. Its insufficiency for this purpose was seen and bewailed by the best and wisest of those who were con- fined to it. They felt the period in which they lived to be a day of darkness and of gloominess, a day of clouds and of thick darkness, as the morning spread upon the mountains. They longed and prayed earnestly to be de- livered from it. And lo ! the object of their warmest wish is now accomplished. A beam hath shone from Zion to enlighten the understandings of men, and to guide their feet into the way of peace. Jesus Christ, through his own ministrv and the ministry of his prophets and apostles, hath unveiled SERMON XV. 291 unveiled before us the face of heaven, and taught us to discern, on the throne of the universe, one eternal omnipotent God, the Creator, the Preserver, and the Governor of all things visible and invisible ; who pos- sesses every possible perfection without the least shadow of defect ; who is for ever present through all the parts of his bound- less dominion, directing all its energies and operations : who is goodness itself, and ne- ver ceases to communicate blessings to his creatures in proportion to their capacity : whose eye is especially on the penitent chil- dren of men, whom he loveth with an ever- lasting love, pleased through Christ with their service of obedience, accepting the righteous homage which they present to him in sincerity and faith, restoring to them the gift of immortality, and, by a most wonderful series of means, training them for a state of pure and never ending happiness in heaven. These discoveries concerning the charac* ter of God, and the state and prospects of man, are delivered in scripture with an ex- actness of delineation that satisfies the un^ derstanding, with an authority that com- T 2 mands 292 SERiMON XV. mauds assent, and with an adaptation to the circunastances of our condition which is fitted to give them powerful effect on con- duct. Wherever their sound has reached they have banished at once polytheism and idolatry, with the numerous corruptions that sprung from them. They support the dominion of right principles in the soul, and have, as we proposed to shew 2dly. A natural tendency to reform the conduct of those who receive them, to turn them from the power of Satan unto God, and to prepare them for au inheritance a- mong them that are sanctiiied. Tliat this was the design of all the doc- trines revealed from heaven, that they were intended to have a reformang as wed as an enlightening powder we learn not only from the express declaration of the text, but from innumerable other passages of scripture, Christ w^as foretold by the prophets as the righteous branchy the sn-vant cf God^ who should bring forth judgment to the Gentiles^ and who should not fail nor be discouraged^ till he should set righteousness in the earthy His fore-runner appeared preparing the way before him, by pleaching the baptism of SERMON XV. 293 ^f repentance^ and turning the hearts of the disobedient to the wisdom of the just. Jesus, when he came, proclahr.ed the same doc- trine of repentance, and sanctified himself that they also, whom the father had given him^ might be sanctified through the truth. And his apostles uniformly declare, that he was manifested to destroy the works of the devil ; that he was sent to bless us in turning away every one of us from his iniquities ; that he gave himself for us that he might redeem us from all iniquity^ and purify unto himself a peculiar people zealous of good works ; and that his doctrine of grace teacheth us that denyifig ungodliness and worldly lusts, we should live soberly, and righteously, and godly in this present zvorld. It is therefore undeniable, that the lights which Christianity diffuses, was given for the purpose of reforming the hearts of those on whom it should shine. And a more effectual mean for accomplishing this end cannot be conceived. It leaves the liberty of man, and consequently his capa- city of moral action untouched ; it suppHes him with an infallible guide in the path of virtue, and with the most persuasive in- T 3 ducements 2C)i SERMON XV. ducements to follow its direction ; and while all its doctrines have a practical influence ; while they are all powerfully fitted to move the springs of the human will ; they are uniformly exhibited in scri- pture in close connection with their natu- ral effect. Are we called to contemplate the omniscience of the ever present Deity ? It is that we may be armed against tempta- tion by the sense of an invisible witness who searches the hearts^ and whose eyes ai'e upon all our ways^ to give to every one accord- ing to the fruit of his doings. Is the death of Christ, for the redemption of sinners, presented to our view ? — It is that we may be made conformable unto his deaths by dying to sin ; and that we may be constrained to live not unto ourselves^ hut unto him who died for us and rose again. In short, are we desired to follow him by the eye of faith, through the glories of his ascension and of his second coming ? — It is that we may see him seated on the throne of his moral kingdom, subduing the enemies of virtue, furnishing support to his servants in their labours of obedience, se- parating the righteous from the wicked, as the husbandman separates the wheat from SERMON XV. 295 from the chaff, and by a final sentence ren- dering to each of them according as his work has been. The doctrines of Christianity, therefore, as exhibited in scripture, are always address- ed to the heart, and employed to guide it to the practice of righteousness. Coming as they do from God, they could indeed be no otherwise exhibited ; for the distinction between the Understanding and the Will ex- ists only for the purposes of human science. In nature and by the appointment of God they are united. They belong to the same indivisible mind, which can indeed exert itself differently according to the circum- stances in which it acts ; but which must feel at once, and through all its powers, every thing that affects it. Hence, the abstract and merely intellectual views of religious truth, which theologians have sometimes given, are useful only for the purposes of reasoning and speech. Like all other ab- stractions, they originate in the imperfection of the human faculties ; and presenting on- ly partial views of their subject, they are ex- tremely apt to mislead. Both in philosophy and religion, such abstractions, when ap- T 4 plied 296 SERMON XV. plied to practice, "have been great sources of error. Nothing corresponding to them oc- curs actually either in nature or in the word of God. There, causes and their effects, principles and the actions which flow from- them, are seen in c£injunction. They are known only in their mutual connection^ Accordingly the faith of the gospel is never represented in scripture as a speculation of the understanding, but as a virtue of the heart. We learn there, that wit/j the heart men believe unto righteousness^ and that through this faith their hearts are puri- fied; that, on the contrary, the wicked err in hearty and through an evil heart of unbelief de- part, from the living God. — As in the natu- ral world, the light of the sun is never seen separated from its warming and vivifying power, so in the world of grace, the light of divine truth must operate in warming and stimulating the heart into which it has been duly admitted. It may indeed meet with circumstances that limit and modify its o- peration ; it may be obscured and coun- teracted by the chilling remains of doubt. Even I he convictions of an enlightened Christian may be at times forgotten ; their influence SERMON XV. 297 influence may be occasionally intercepted- by the mists of prejudice ; or they may be overborne, for a moment, by more daz- zling conviction generated by the passions. But wherever the rays of truth are clearly and distinctly felt, their natural effect Vs^ill follow, ill proportion to their power. Is it possible with a believing heart, to conceive in all its aspects, that love of God which passeth understanding without emotions of gratitude, and a disposition to make some return ? Is it possible to believe that Christ stands by our side, deeply interested in our cause, ever ready to exert his omnipotent power for our support ; and at the same in- stant to sink in despair before the approach of temptation ? Is it possible to murmur at the afflictions which befal us, while we regard them as the appointments of God for our good, sent in mercy to our souls, and most wisely accommodated to the pre- sent circumstances of our particular condi- tion ? Can we contemplate the ravishing glories of the world to come, steadily con- vinced that they are realities, and that through Christ, we may rise to the full pos- session of them -, and not feel at the mo- ment 1298 SERMON XV. ment an aspiration and endeavour to attain them ? No, Christians ! constituted as man is, these things cannot happen. They are moral impossibilities. The supposition of them involves a contradiction to the natu- ral principles of our frame. According to these principles, the Hght which the gospel conveys into the mind, if cordially receiv- ed, must mingle with the desires and af- fections : It must produce the consolation, or solicitude, or obedience, to which it is a- dapted, and render faith the victory which overcometh the world. From these considerations the inference is obvious, that the knowledge which the apostle carried to the nations was practical in its nature ; that it possesses a reforming energy, and is the instrument of God for exalting the character of man, and restoring him to happiness and perfection. It was not given to serve the purposes of intellec- tual amusement ; but to be the guide of lite, to sustain us under the difficulties of OUT probationary state, to form us to the du- ties of our earthly condition, and through them, to quahfy us for the enjoyment of God in heaven. The SERMON XV. 299 The same considerations lead us to un- derstand distinctly in what consists the true preaching of the gospel — a phrase full of valuable meaning, but often most grossly misapplied. It consists not in de- tailing the personal feelings of the speaker, nor in recounting the supposed conversions he has witnessed : these form no part of the light that was committed to the Apos- tles ; and to detail them is to preach not the gospel of Christ, but the private his- tory of the speaker and his friends. It consists not in explaining to the people the thin distinctions of metaphysical theology ; for these distinctions are not found in scripture, and though they may be necessary to the preacher as a man of science set up for the defence of the truth, they are too ab- stract to influence the heart, and can be of no use in promoting the practical ends for which the gospel was given. It consists not in separating the doctrines from the precepts of religion, nor in detaching the privileges of a Christian from his duties, and directing the attention chiefly to the one, while the other is thrown into the shade and overlooked : for this is to muti- late 300 SERMON XV. late the word of God and to destroy its power by dissolving the vital union of its parts — To preach the gospel is to declare, in just order and connection, the whole counsel of heaven for our salvation, and to declare it always with a direct re- ference to the great purpose for which it was revealed, the moral improvement of the human race. It is to teach the people right- eousness, and through a display of the per- fections and works and ways of God, as manifested in Christ Jesus, to build them up in holiness and comfort to eternal life. This, as we learn from the verses which follow the text, was the sense in which the Apos- tle Paul interpreted the words of his com- mission, and on which he acted through the course of his ministry. Whereupon^ 0 Mng Agrippa^ I was not disobedient to the heavenly vision ; but shewed first unto them of Damascus^ and at Jerusalem^ and through- out all the coasts of Judea, and then to the Gentiles^ that they should repent and turn to God, and do works meet for Repentance. Viewed in this practical light the chris- tian revelation presents to us a most bene- ficent system of xehgious truth, which will fmd SERMON XV. 301 find aji advocate in the heart of every good man, and which will be for ever in- vulnerable to the attacks of the infidel. It is the power of God to salvation, and viighty th'ough him to pull down strong holds^ to cast down imaginations^ and evefj high thing that exalt eth itself against the knowledge of Gody and to bring into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ. Let us therefore, my bre- thren, yield our understandings and our hearts to its influence. Let us receive it in all things as the guide of our conduct. Let us be not only hearers cf the word, but doers of the work ; and we shall be blessy ed in our deed. Amen. SHR, SERMON XVI. (Preached at the celebration of the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper.) Luke, xxiii, 46. — --And when Jesus had cried ztith a loud mice, he said, Father, into thy hand I commend my spirit, and having said thus, he gave up the GJwst. Jl he death of Christ is the most wonder- ful event which past ages have presented to the view of mankind, and sufficient means have been employed to rouse their attention to it. Intimation of it had been given in various forms even from the beginning of the world : signs in heaven and signs on earth announced to the uni- verse the hour of its completion : and through all succeeding times, the memory of it has been cherished by the most affec- tionate gratitude of christians. This day, my brethren, we have met in holy convo- cation, to shew it forth as the foundation of SERMON XVI. 303 of all our hopes ; and therefore, as a prepa- ration for the solemn service, I shall direct your thoughts to some views of it, which, through the blessing of God, may tend to excite within us the sentiments which become our situation. The death of Jesus, being the great point in which all the doctrines and con- solations of the gospel meet, as in a com- mon center, opens before us a wide field of various and instructive meditation. At present, however, we shall survey only a few of the more striking and obvious par- ticulars. I. Then, the death of Jesus was on his part a voluntary offering. No man, said he, taketh my life from me, but I lay it down of myself, I have power to lay it down, and power to take it again. When we look back to the last days of the life of Jesus on earth, we see abun- dant evidence that he fell not in conse- quence of any irresistible power of his ene- mies, but by his own free and unconstrain- ed choice. Not to mention the legions of angels who were ready to descend for his 504 SERMON XVL his protection, nor the miraculous powers by which he could have chained the efforts of his persecutors, we need only consider his natural means of defence, to be convin- ced that when Herod^ and Pontius Pilate, zvith the Gentiles^ and people of Israel^ were gathered together against hijn, they did no- thing but what, with his own counsel and consent, had been before determined should be done. Before he left his retirements in the mountains of Jadea, he had foretold to his disciples that he must suffer many things of the Elders^ and chief Priests^ and Scribes^ and he killed. And on the road to his last pass- over, he prepares them, by a minute de- scription of his approaching sentence and execution, for the decease which he should accomplish at Jerusalem. Yet in full view of the sufferings that await him, uncom- pelled by external force, and careless of his safety, he relinquishes the security of his retreat, and advances boldly to fulfill the will of his Father. When he reached Jerusalem, he found that city divided by hostile and discontent- ed factions ; its rulers trembling at every breath SERMON XVI. 30.5 breath of insurrection ; and its people prepared, by the fame of his miracles, to hail him as their promised Deliverer and King. He knew the designs which had been formed in secret against his life, the plan contrived for executing them, the trai- tor by whom he was to be betrayed, and the time and place appointed for his apprehen- sion. With the knowledge of all these circumstances, how easy would it have been for an artful man actuated by ambi- tious motives, and desirous to protract his life, to have eluded or confounded the devices of his adversaries r How easy, was it, by flattering one of the factions to have created to himself, as the Apostle Paul did afterwards, powerful and effectual support? How easy, by flattering the people, or even by yielding to their prejudices, to have placed himself at the head of a parry suffi- cient to intimidate and overawe the disuni- ted party of his enemies ? If these measures had failed, how easy was it still, by remov- ing the traitor from his counsels, by with- drawing to some private retreat, or by concealing himself, during the public con- fusion, among the croud of strangers whom u the 506 SERMON Xv7. the passover had assembled at Jerusaleiiiy to have eluded the pursuit of those who sought his life, and to have reserved him- self for the chance of better times ! But in- stead of adopting any of these expedients, Jesus holds on his determined course in peace, regardless of his enemies, and un- terrified by the awful scene before him. He had a baptism to be baptized withy and he was straitened till it should be accom- plished. When therefore the hour ap- proached, in which he should depart out of this v/orld to the Father, he goes forth resolutely to meet his fate ; delivers him- self, without a struggle, to the guard sent to apprehend him ; refuses to defend him- self from the contradictory charges brought against him on his trial, or to improve the favourable opinion of his hesitating Judge ; receives, unmoved, the sentence of cru- cifixion \ and, having finished on the cross his work of expiation, in testimony that his vital powers were still entire, he cried with a loud voice ; and commending his spirit into the hands of his Father, he gave up the ghost.- It SERMON XVI. S07 It appears therefore that the sufferings and death of Jesus were on his part volun- tary and uncompelled. This quahty waS necessary to give to them their dignity and value. Without it they could have been no proofs of benevolent affection, and could have had no merit in the sight either of God or men. They might still indeed have been regarded as misfortunes, fitted to ex- cite our sympathy ; but they v/ouid not have been acts of virtue, no expiation for iniquity, and no just foundation for our confidence and gratitude. It was this qua- lity, therefore, which constituted their ge- nuine worth, and which enters as an essen- tial consideration into all the important ends which they serve. Keeping these ends in view, we proceed to consider, 11. That Jesus died to convince the world that his doctrines are true, and that he was in fact the Messiah promised to the fathers. To this conviction the death of Jesus contributed in various ways. The great fact itself, and all the minute circumstances which, attended it, coincide so exactly with u 2 the SOS SERMON XVI. the predictions of ancient prophecy, that we cannot fail to recognise in them the cha- racters of the promised Saviour of the na- tions. When we see him led from prison and from judgment, defamed and oppressed^ yet opening not his mouth ; giving his back to the smiters^ and his cheeks to them that plucked off the hair^ and hiding not his face from shame i when we see his judges numbering him with transgressors^ the soldiers casting lots for his vesture^ and the people presenting to him the cup of vinegar to d?'ink : when we see him lifted up from the earth, and the heavens blackening around him ; and hear his voice exclaiming, through the darkness, Mj God, 7ny God, why hast thou forsaken me ! — what man is there who, on recollecting the Jewish oracles, does not feel and say. Verily this is He to whom Moses and all the pro- phets bear witness, the Sent of God, whose testimony concerning all things must be true. If, on the other hand, we turn our view to the consequences of this event, we see in it the necessary preparation for a still more irresistible proof of his divinity. He died to rise again, and established, in the combi- -nation SERMON XVI. S09 nation of these two facts, a firm foundation for the faith of his followers, which the gates of hell shall never be able to remove. The humiliation of his death was, besides, a visi- ble demonstration of what he so often told them, that his kingdom was not to be of this world. Whether, therefore, ^ve look forward or backward from the death of Je- sus, or consider it by itself, we find it con- nected inseparably with the great bulwarks of the Christian cause, and forming an es- sential link in that chain of evidence which demonstrates the authority of its author. But independently of these collateral con- siderations, the circumstances of our Savi- our's sufferings and death form a direct ar- gument for the truth of his doctrine?, by proving the soundness of his mind, and the purity of his intentions. Had the publica- tion of these doctrines been accompa- nied with irregular, unsteady, ostentatious, passionate conduct, they might perhaps have been ascribed to those boilings of the imagination which can convert into reali- ties the wayward fictions of the brain. Had he taught them only to the listening multi- tudes on the peaceful shores of Tiberias, we u 3 might 310 SERMON XVI. raight have had" some pretence for doubting his sincerity. Or had they tended merely to display and m.agnify himself, we might, while he continued in the road to greatness, have suspected his ambition, and distrusted whatever tended to promote it. But which of these charges will you bring against the humble, afflicted, crucified Jjsus ? Of fana- tical delusions he is acquitted by theuniform,' steady tenor of his life, and especially by the calm serenity of his mind in those ruffling moments of his fate which exposed him to the peculiar influence of the passions. Of his sincerity the whole history of his death is the most unquestionable confir- mation. The same doctrines which he had taught to the multitude who sought to make him a King, he taught to the judge in his trial, and to the people at his cruci- fixion. On account of these doctrines, and on their account alone, he suffered and died. Maintaining to the last the character he had assumed, he vindicated on the cross the pu- rity of his views, and died proclaiming to the world that he was a teacher sent from God. The earth shook in attestation of his truth ; and the centurion, wondering at the things SERMON XVI. sii tWgs he saw, interpreted them aright when he said, Certainly this was a righteous Man, truly this zvas the Son of God. III. Jesus died to give his followers an ex- ample of sublime and stedfast virtue. The whole course of his life had been a pattern of the most spotless integrity. At the close of it, he could look back with con- fidence ©n the career he had finished, and appeal to his friends and to his enemies, — Which of you convinceth me of sin P The history of his trial in particular is a splendid monu- ment to the purity of his character. Be- hold the perplexity of his persecutors when they try to discover materials of accusa- tion against him. They sought for witnesses to put him to death ; but they found none whose zvitness could agree together. Hear his judge, with all his indifference for truth, and desire to please the Jewish rulers, re- peatedly declaring. Why., what evil hath this man done f I find no fault in him. See his be- trayer, he who for years had been his disci- ple, and acquainted with all the secrets of his heart and life, see him torn with remorse, throwing down the wages of iniquity, wring- u 4 in^ 3!2 SERMON XVI. ing his hands in anguish, making the dole- ful confession, / have sinned in that I have betrayed the innocent bloody and going forth to execute on himself the punishment of his treachery. See the skies cloathed in black- ness, as if bemoaning his unmerited fate, and the grave itself refusing to detain him in captivity — Behold these things, and you will be satisfied that Jesus had done no sm, neither was guile found in his mouth. But Jesus was not only an example of the negative perfections of purity and inno- cence ; his sufferings exhibit him on a theatre which called for a display of far no- bler, and more dignified virtues than the human imagination had hitherto been able to conceive. What submission to the di- vine will ! What patience under affliction ! What fortitude in danger ! What tender- ness to his friends ! What forbearance with his enemies ! What unconquerable love to mankind ! Follow him into the garden of Gethsemane, and see him bearing the load of his Father's WTath ; with a frail body shaken at every joint through unutterable anguish ; but preserving a firm unbroken mind, resolving to discharge his duty, and in SERMON XVI. 313 in contemplation of the awful scene before him, saying, with eyes raised to heaven. Fa- ther, not my wiil^ but thine be done. The cup which th'ju tmst given me shall I not drink it f Follow him from the spot where he was betrayed by a kiss, into the palace of the High Priest, into the court of Herod, and the hall of judgment ; and mark, amid the most intolerable provocations, the mild un- complaining serenity of his behaviour. Fol- low him to the mount of crucifixion — hear by the way his affectionate admonition to the multitudes that accompanied him — and see, even amid the cruel agonies of death, the melting tenderness with which he com- mits his mother to the disciple whom he loved ; the soothing gentleness with which he comforts the penitent malefactor by his side 5 the dignity of his forgiveness to those who insulted him ; the triumph of his depar- ture when he beheld his work finished, and salvation purchased for the fallen. Who that has any taste for excellence does not feel his heart elevated, and warmed, and melted by the virtues which these scenes display ? The affectionate remembrance of them formed a powerful support to the cou- rage 314 SERMON XVI. rage of his immediate followers, when called like him to sacrifice their lives in the public cause. It animated in succeeding times that glorious band of martyrs whose un- shaken constancy overawed the minds even of their persecutors, and contributed more perhaps than any other human cause to ex- tend the kingdom of their Master. It ought still to communicate a noble elevation to the mind of every true Christian, and teach him how to suffer and to die. For the virtues of Jesus were recorded for our instruction, and are proposed to us as models for our conduct ; be suffered for us to leave us an ex- ample that we should follow his steps. IV. The death of Christ was an expia- tion for the sins of men. On this point the declarations of scripture are numerous and explicit. He who knew no sin^ is said to have been made sin for us, to have given his life a ransom for all, to have redeemed us by his blood, to have bor7ie th-e chastisement of our peace, and to have appear- ed in the end of the world to take away sin by the sacrifice of himself These and many si- milar expressions lead us irresistibly to re- sard SERMON XVI. 315 gard the death of Christ in the Ught of a proper atonement for iniquity. Though this method of removing guilt be connected with mysteries in the economy of Providence which we cannot explain ; yet the belief of it certainly has some foun- dation in the principles of human nature and has accordingly been universally adop- ted. Among all the tribes of our race, however much they may differ in other re- spects, we meet with the altar, the victim, and the deep rooted conviction that with- out the shedding of blood there can be no remission. Impressed with this belief, the trembling worshipper, before he ventured to approach his God, prepared the costly sacri- fice as an expiation for his guilt, and hoped through it to obtain the forgiveness of his sins. But the grounds on which this hope rest- ed could not, in his case, stand the test of rational investigation. There was no suf- ficient relation between the victim and the person in whose room it was substituted ; and its blood bore no proportion in point of value to the pardon which it was to pur- chase. In itself therefore it could be no ex- piation 316 SERMON XVI. piation for sin. But it served to prepare the minds of men for that greater sacrifice which Christ was to offer for iniquity, when entering with his own blood into the holy place^ he obtained eternal redemption for his people. In this blood there was virtue of infinite value. It was besides the price which God himself had agreed to accept for transgressions. From the Cross as from a high Altar it flowed in all directions, as balm for the healing of the nations ; and reach- es in its efficacy to all the penitent of every age and of every land. From this atonement inestimable blessings spring. It overthrew at once the altars that were red and noisome with the blood of slaughter. It superseded all that expen- sive service of offerings under which both Jews and Gentiles groaned. It restored peace to the troubled conscience of the pe- nitent. And by an awful example it de- monstrated the malignity of guilt, and taught a lesson of virtue to the whole intel- ligent children of God. These were the immediate effects of this great atonement ; but beside these, how comfortable and reviving are the collateral truths SERxMON XVI. 317 truths which it suggests ! What a delight- ful representation does it give us of God, and of the relation in which we stand to him ! By his death on the cross, Jesus pro- claims aloud to the nations that God is no stern inexorable Judge ; but placable, full of mercy, full of patience, full of grace to his feeble sinful creatures : that he is love itself, and counts nothing too dear, not even the death of his well-beloved son, for promoting our happiness and salvation : that he re- quires of us no hard unreasonable service, no gifts, nor penances, nor vows ; but plea- sing returns of gratitude and love : that mansions of rest in his immediate presence are prepared for the good ; and that if we reject not his grace, we shall be permitted to dwell with him for ever. What sources of consolation thus open to the pious soul ? Light flows in upon the darkness of our present condition. Confi- dence takes the place of those terrors which the thought of sin, and death, and futurity inspired ; because we know that God is re- conciled ; that he wishes not the destruc- tion but the salvation of the sinner ; that he bears to us the heart of a father ; and that since 519 SERMON XVL since he spared not his own Son, but gave him up unto death for us, he will with him give whatever is necessary for our good. The mysterious veil that covered the ways of Providence drops from before us. We see order amid the apparent confusions of the moral system. We see wisdom in the trials of human obedience ; and we can fol- low with confidence the voice that calls us to virtue and immortality, because we know that strength from above is purchased to support our weakness, and that our labour will not be in vain in the Lord. Inspired by these hopes we hold on our righteous way rejoicing. And when we reach the termination of our appointed course, we can enter unappalled the valley of dark- ness, assured that there are no spectres there to disturb our rest ; that our Redeemer hallowed the grave for the reception of his friends, when through death he destroyed him that had the power of death ; that he now lives in testimony of his victory, and that he is able to keep that which we commit to him till the day of our complete redemp- tion. Such SERMON XVI. 319 Such, Christians, are some of the most im- portant views which the scripture has given us of the death of Jesus — views which are naturally fitted to warm our hearts with gratitude for his goodness, and to confirm us in the obedience of his law. The blessings which result from it are inestimably great — deliverance from the power, and guilt, and misery of sin ; peace with God and with our selves; comfort in the discharge of our duty; hope in the hour of death ; and an immortal kingdom in the heavens. These blessings were purchased for us, at the expence of his life, by a divine person who lay under no obligation to us, who stepped forward vo- luntarily to our support, who declined no sacrifice that was necessary to accomplish his purpose, and who had nothing to expect from us in return. In these circumstances how should our hearts burn within us when we recal to remembrance the sorrows of his cross I What gratitude should rise within us to God, the deviser of this beneficent plan of mercy ! What love to Jesus who suffered so much in its execution ! What detestation of ourselves whose guilt rendered these sufferings necessary ! O that our no SERMON XVI. our head were waters, and our eyes a foun- tain of tears, that we might weep day and night for the stain of our iniquity ! O that tears of compunction would wash away the impure affections which have hitherto separated us from our Redeemer ! O that gratitude would bind us to him for ever, and preserve us from wounding him afresh by the repetition of our sins ! For this gene- rous Benefactor, who loves us with an ever- lasting love, asks nothing from us but that we crucify him no more. His whole soul is bent on our salvation ; the laws which he prescribes to direct our conduct, are but the means of promoting his benevolent pur- pose ; and his spirit is grieved, when, by transgressing them, we counteract it. Let our gratitude, therefore, to the Redeemer, animate our obedience. Let it restrain us from the pollutions and the provocations of vice. Let it draw us to the resemblance of his character, and constrain us by a sweet, though irresistible power, to live no longer to ourselves, but unto him who loved us and gave himself for us. But the contemplation of our Saviour's death exhibits still other motives to confirm us SERMON XVI. 821 us in obedience. The hpur in which he fell was an hour of terror, as well as an hour of love. Offended by iniquity, the Most High had risen on his throne : his right hand, red with/vengeance, was lifted up to strike ; and when the sword descended on the head of his beloved Son, all nature trembled in dismay. There was darkness over the land^ the rocks were rent, the veil of the temple was divided in the midst, the earth quaked, the people smote upon their breasts and returned. These w^ere the awful signs of wrath, and though that wrath be averted in mercy from the penitent, it is still reserved in all its horrors for the hardened worker of iniquity. For him there remaineth no more sacrifice for sin, but a certain fearful looking for of judgment, and of fiery indignation to de- vour the adversaries. Let the prospect of this indignation operate on our minds ; and mingle its influence with the gentler and more attractive influence of love, that wx may abstain from all iniquity, and perfect holiness in the fear of the Lord. To cherish these sentiments, let us approach with reve- rence to the holy table of commemoration, and open our minds to the contemplations X which 322 SERMON XVI. which it suggests. From them let us en* deavour to catch a portion of that subUme steadfast virtue which enabled our Redeemer to triumph over temptation, and to 'keep himself unspotted from the world. Thus, in us, he will see of the travail of his soul, and be satisfied. He will give his angels charge concerning us to keep us from falling ; he will cheer our death-bed with the consola- tions of his grace ; he will cause our flesh to rest in hope in the silence of the grave ; and when the shadow of death shall be changed into the morning, he will receive us into the everlasting kingdom of our Father. For to this end he both died, and rose and revived, that he might be Lord of the dead and of the living. Unto him therefore who is able to keep us from falling, and to present us faultless before the presence of his glory with exceeding joy ; to the only wise God and our Saviour, be glory and majesty, dominion and power, both now and ever. Amen, SER. SERMON XVIi: I Peter i, 12. JVhich things the angels desire to boh into. VV E learn from revelation that the uni- verse of God contains various orders of spiritual creatures far superior to man in wisdom and power. The different grada- tions of these invisible beings, are marked in scripture by different designations ; but they are most commonly expressed by the general name of angels. They are des- cribed as ministers employed by the Al- mighty in conducting the operations of Providence. They stand before his face beholding his glory. They excel in strength and do his commandments^ hearkening unto the mice of his word. X 2 These 324 SERMON XVII. These exalted spirits seem to take a pe- culiar interest in the concerns of this lower world. They sang for joy when the foun- dations of it were laid ; they watch now with the most benevolent regard for the good of its inhabitants ; and when its end shall come, they will sound the last trumpet, and prepare the sons of men for judgment. They are represented, especially, as delight- ing in the gracious plan of our redemption ; and they have been frequently employed in promoting it. One of them announced to Mary the coming of the Messiah ; a multi- tude of them appeared by night in the plains of Bethlehem, celebrating in songs the glad hour of his birth ; in various exi- gencies of his life they ministred to his con- solation ; they waited on him both wheii he rose from the dead, and when he ascend- ed on high ; they contributed their as- sistance to his apostles in spreading his re- ligion over the earth ; they still minister for those who ^re the heirs of salvation ; and when the mystery of God shall be fi- nished, they will come, as the retinue of our Redeemer, to gather together his elect from the four winds of heaven, and to conduct them SERMON XVII. SU them in triumph to the everlasting habita- tation of their Father. These glorious beings the text accord- ingly exhibits as enquiring diligently into that salvation, which bad been revealed to the prophets and preached by the apostles with the Holy Ghost sent down from hea- ven. In the original language, the ex- pression of their desire to look into it is much stronger than in our version. By a beau- tiful allusion to the position of the cheru- bim who overshadowed the Ark of the co- venant, where the oracles of grace were de- posited, the angels are represented as bend- ing down to pry into its contents, and to search out the sufferings of Christ, and the glory that should follow. — Even to them who had no direct interest in the event, these subjects furnished materials of attractive and improving meditation. How delight- ful then ought the consideration of them to be to us, who derive from them all our hopes of happiness and perfection ! — To kindle within us the affection that is due for the blessings of redemption, it may be useful to unfold the motives which rendered them objects of such close attention to the spirits X 3 of 325 SERMON XVII. of heaven. Of the principles by which these spirits are actuated, we can judge on- ly from what we experience to be fitted to move ourselves ; and therefore every cir- cumstance, which we can conceive as an inducement for them to study the merciful plans of providence towards the human race, should operate with tenfold force in recom- mending that interesting subject to the at- tention and pursuit of man. I. Then, the angels may have been in- duced to search into the mysteries of re- demption from a natural desire of encreas- ing their knowledge. This desire is implanted by God in the breast of his intelligent creatures to prompt them to a due exercise of the talents which he has committed to them. We have rea- son to believe that it forms an essential part in the character of angels as well as in our own. Though beings of a superior order, yet, like us, they are of limited ca- pacity J they receive their information by gradual additions ; and they are ignorant of many things, which, if more fully known, would tend to illustrate the perfec- tions SERMON XVII. 327 tions of him whom they adore. His works and ways therefore are subjects of their earnest contemplation ; and from every discovery which they make, there arises a new theme of admiration and praise. To beings of this description, the method of reclaiming and saving sinners opened a fresh and delightful field of contemplation. In many of its features, it could bear no resemblance to any thing that had yet been seen ; and it was difficult to conceive how it could be accomplished in consisten- cy with the holiness of God, with the hon- our of his government, with the sentence of death that had been so solemnly pro- nounced, and with the appointment of a flaming sword turning every way to keep the way to the tree of life. To solve these difficulties had probably often exercised their thoughts. And when they felt them- selves unequal to the task, they beheld the Almighty himself stepping forward to ac- complish what they had relinquished in despair. When he saw that there was no man and wondered that there was no inter- cessory his own arm brought salvation to hm^ and his righteousness^ it sustained X 4- him. 328 SERMON XVIL him. In these circumstances, their curio- sity could not fail to be keenly excited to watch events as they arose, that through them they might discover the particulars of this new manifestation of the wisdom and goodness of the Almighty. It is reasonable to believe that their curiosity on this point was powerfully stimulated by the gradual and partial manner in which the purpose of heaven was unfolded. From the beginning they had heard the promises made to the fa- thers ; they were witnesses of the prepara- tions by which the object of them was to be finally accomplished; and some of them had even been sent to support the hopes of ET^ankind by magnificent, though dark annunciations of a time determined on the holy city to finish transgression^ to make reconciliation for iniquity^ and to bring in everlasting righteousness. These gradual openings of the plan of Providence could scarcely fail to awaken their attention. And hence, when the predicted period approached in which Messiah the prince was to be cut off, it was natural for them to anticipate a scene of wonders, and SERMON XVII. S29 and to look with earnest expectation for the full vision of the glory that remained to be revealed. But still, their desire of knowledge was not fully satisfied. Even after the Son of righteousness arose and poured his light on the nations, there remained obscurities in the plan of redemption sufficient to attract the attention of the most exalted seraph. There was still a book, sealed with seven seals, which, except the lion of the tribe of Juda, none in heaven, nor in earth, nor under the earth, was able to open or to read, or to look thereon. It contains the events that are still to spring up for completing the work of grace — the prophecies that are still to be fulfilled — in the propagation of the gospel, in the fall of antichrist, in the general peace of the world, in the return of the Jews to their native land, in the resurrection of the dead, in the coming of Christ to judge the world, in the glorifying of his saints, in the destruction of his enemies, and the final delivery of the kingdom to the Father, that when he $hall have put down all rule and 330 SERMON XVII. and all authority and powers God may be all in alL All these are events which the wisdom of our Father has revealed but imperfectly. They cannot be known fully till after they shall have come to pass ; and the darkness, which now covers them from the faithful on earth, must to a certain degree veil them also from the eye of angels. The light that is let in upon them is sufficient to rouse, but not to gratify curiosity, and to draw from the pious mind the tender exclamation, 0 the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgment s^ and his ways past finding out I But it is not only the novelty exhibited in the work of redemption which prompts the investigation of angels : this work opens to their view, 2. A series of the most sublime and af- fecting objects of contemplation. Objects that are great and sublime have still stronger attractions for generous minds than objects that are new. By the enno- bling and rapturous delight, which they convey to the heart, they seize upon the atr tentioh SERMON XVII. SSI tendon, and compel us to give our thoughts to them. Now, what subject can be compared, in this respect, with the glorious sch( me devised by God for the restoration of the human race ? Whether we consider its origin, the agents employed in conducting it, the events which it comprehends, or the consequences that flow from it, we perceive the most wonderful displays of divine perfection. By the fall of man a whole class of intel- ligent beings seemed degraded and ruined for ever : the world that had been formed for their reception had become a noxious waste : sin and death and everlasting dark- ness seemed to have taken possession of the spot which the Almighty had blessed, and destined for the happy abode of innocence and beauty. While angels, with anxious forebodings, beheld these signs of desola- tion ; w^hile they bewailed the dishonour that had been cast on the character of their Father ; while they looked forward with trembling to the final execution of his ven- geance, and saw no method of appeasing it, —they heard the voice of the Eternal, in accents of sweetest melody, proclaiming, Deliver S3Q SERMON XVIL Deliver them from going down to the pit^ I have found a ransom. They heard, in the counsels of peace, the Son of the Most High, accepting the proffered terms of redemp- tion, and saying, Lo ! I come ; in the volume of thy book^ it is written of me, I delight to do thy will, 0 my God ! They saw him cloathed in the ensigns of a mediatorial kingdom, going forth to inspire the fallen with hope, to rule in the midst of his enemies, and to make his people willing in the day of his power. They beheld, through the visions of prophecy, a new order of things arising on earth, light shining through the darkness of human passions, the revolutions of empire and of art arranging themselves in subordi- nation to the plan of Grace, and the arm of their Prince, by invisible springs, bending the whole course of events to prepare the way before it. At last, when the fulness of time was come, they beheld this Lord of heaven descending to earth, assuming the human nature into personal union with the divine, exhibiting an example of spotless virtue, fixing the foundations of a spiritual empire, laying down his life as an atone- ment for transgression, rising triumphant from SERMON XVII. S33 from the dead as the first fruits of the new- creation, ascending to the right hand of the Majesty in the heavens, and sending down the Holy Ghost to complete the work of salvation. To minds capable of estimating their va- lue, these are in themselves splendid objects of contemplation. And how magnificent are the collateral views connected with them ! If we look to the transactions of Jesus on the earth, and consider the motives which led to them, what a glorious display do they open to us of the divine perfections ! What benevolence, and wisdom, and power ap- pear in the contrivance and execution of the scheme to which they are subservient ! How have mercy and truth m.et together, righteousness and peace kissed each other ! If we turn our eye forward to their conse- quences, what a glorious sight opens to our view ! We see the noble fabric, which sin had ruined, appearing again in renovated beauty ; the kingdom of God re-established among men ; the altars of superstition and idolatry overthrown ; immortality restored to the faithful ; the spirit of Christ aiding their endeavours to become perfect ; the gate 534 SERMON XVir. gate of heaven opened to receive them ; eternal happiness provided for them in the presence of their Father. Nay ! we see even other classes of intelligent beings par- ticipating in the benignant influence — An- gels themselves deriving from it new mo- tives to obedience, and the peaceful domi- nion of righteousness settled on firmer foun- dations through unnumbered worlds These are the most sublime subjects that can be presented to the moral eye. And can we then wonder that the spirits above should feel themselves attracted by them ; that angels should desire to look into them ; and that, sympathizing with the joys of the redeemed, they should, on their account, ascribe dominion, and bless- ing, and praise to him that sitteth on the throne, and to the Lamb, for ever and ever ^ But the plan of redemption has still stronger attractions for these blessed spirits, than either the novelty or the grandeur of the objects which it presents to them. For, 3. It coincides in all its parts with their best affections, and gives an immediate gratifica- tion to the warmest desires of their hearts. What SERMON XVII. 335 What are the affections which, we have reason to believe, burn with the brightest ardour in these celestial minds ? Are they not love to God, zeal for the honour of his government, and active benevolence to- wards those whom he has chosen to be heirs of the promises P And where can objects be found so well fitted to attract and satisfy these affections, as in the discoveries made by the gospel ? We have already seen that the manifes- tations of grace and truth which the gospel reveals, shed a new and glorious light on the character of the Almighty. They recon- cile to our view the more awful attributes of his nature with the exercise of mercy to the fallen, and prove him to be just even when he justifies the ungodly. Now every addition to his glory — every ray reflected on him from the face of Jesus must add to the love which angels bear towards him. It enhances their admiration of his excel- lence ; and must contribute, at the same time, to render them more sensible of the happiness of being admitted to dwell in so glorious a presence. In this respect, there- fore, self-interest concurs with the mpre ge- nerous 336 SERMON XVIL neroiis principles of divine love, in rousing their attention, ^nd in prompting them to enquire diligently into the mysteries of re* demption. But to their joy in God, they join the most earnest desire to see his moral king- dom extended through all orders of intelli- gent creatures. Holy themselves, they dwell in the holy place as ministers of the Most High, and inust delight in whatever tends to facilitate the great object of all their labours, the increase of universal righteous- ness. With what rapture, then, must they contemplate a plan which has this object directly in view; and which, by its doctrines, its examples, its precepts, its promises, and its aids, is most admirably fitted to attain it ! They see all its parts inscribed with holiness to the Lord, and tending, by direct conse- quence, to bring forward the predicted pe- riods for which they wait, when all the king- doms of the world shall become the king- doms of the Lord and of his Christ. As they meditate on the provisions which it has made for this end, they feel warmer hopes glow- ing in their bosom, and with ecstacy antici- pate the blissful day, when, with the elders around SERMON XVII. 337 around the throne, falUng on their faces and worshipping God, they shall say, We ^ive thee thanks^ 0 Lord God Alnightyy which arty and wast^ and art to comc^ be- cause thou hast taken to thee thy great power ^ and hast reigned. If to these considerations we add the com- passion and kindness which the angelic tribes entertain for fallen man, we shall be abundantly satisfied that the study of the blessings of redemption must be to them a source of ineffable joy. Not only the be- nevolence of their nature, but the official relations which they bear to us give them a warm interest in our happiness. They are represented in scripture as forming with us but one family, and as ministring spirits sent forth to minister for our salvation. They encamp round about the good man and deliver him. They have it in charge to bear him up in their liands through the dangers of this world, and when he has completed his appointed term, they carry his soul into the bosom of Abraham, To beings like these how glad must have been the first prospect of our restoration ! How joyful the sight of its progress towards per- Y fection 1 S38 SERMON XVIL fection ! How reviving the voice which they heard in the synagogue of Capernaum, when Jesus rose and proclaimed, " The spi-» rit of the Lord is upon me^ because he hath anointed me to preach the Gospel to the poor^ he hath sent me to heal the broken hearted^ to preach deliverance to the captives^ to set at liber^ ty those that are bruisedy and to preach the accep- table year of the Lord : How transporting the sound which, by his ministry, has gone into all lands — That though the wages of sin is death, yet the gft of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord : — -j^nd that now is the accepted time, now is the day of salvation. If' there be joy among the angels of God, even ever one sinner that repent eth, what must be their rapture when, in the visions of revelation, they behold those millions of the redeemed who shall come out of every kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation, and sit down with Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven ! The plan of Providence for the deliver- ance of our race, then, has manifold attrac- tions for the study of angels. They feel that great is the mystery of godhness, and irresistible the motives which determine them SERMON XVII. 339 tliem to pry into it. Every new discovery respecting it discloses to them new sources of admiration and triumph. Increasing de- lights animate their exertions to proceed ; and when they reach tlie conclusion — when they penetrate into its v/hole extent, and behold the certainty of its consummation, they stand enraptured at the sight of so much grace and wisdom, and burst forth into one universal song of joy, Praise our Gody all ye his servants^ and ye that fear him, both small and great. Alleluia ! for the Lord God omnipotent reigneth. From the deep interest which angels take in the plan for our redemption, it is an obvious inference that it must have a just claim to our closest investiga- tion and regard. If these celestial spirits, who stand in no need of a Redeemer for themselves, find in it sufBcient motives to arrest their attention, what attractions ought it to have for us who are its immediate ob- jects, and indebted to it for the continuance of our existence, and for , all the comforts and hopes by which that existence is bless- ed ? We feel delight in contemplating the j^^onders of the material universe, and the Y 2 connexions 340 s:ermo'K xvil connexions by which its parts are united — in counting the number, and ascertaining the movements of the radiant orbs that roll on high. And such contemplations are worthy of our nature. They inspire a ra- tional satisfaction ; they are productive of temporal utility ; they exalt our concep- tions of the great Creator. But by a well regulated mind, they cannot surely be com- pared, either in utility or interest, with that knowledge of the only true God, and of his Son Jesus Christ, which makes us wise unto salvation. How unreasonable and absurd then is the contempt so often shewn by tKe men of the world for the means of enhght- ening them with the knowledge of divine truth, and of warming them with the love of it ! Can such contempt for what even angels admire, indicate any thing but some woeful defect, both in the understanding and the heart of the weak, presumptuous mortal who indulges it ? For such contempt is not only unreasonable and absurd, but highly pernicious. It undermines the very foundations of that hope which is essential to human improvement. By veiling from our view the obligations under which we he SERMON XVII. 34i lie to God, it relaxes oiir zeal in the practice of duty, weakens all the motives to obedi- ence, and in too many instances renders the profession of Christianity a mere form of godliness without its power. Let us therefore, Christians, beware of this chilling and criminal indifference. Let us study to know the doctrines of our holy faith, and let that knowledge produce its due influence on our hearts, and on our con- duct. The possession of it is a source of manifold delights : it will fortify us against the temptations of the world ; it will qua- lify us on earth for an enlightened and af- fectionate remembrance of our Saviour's sufferings ; and prepare us at last for join- ing the triumphant hymn of the redeemed, — Salvation unto our God, and to the Lamb that was slain ! For he hath loved us, and washed us from our sins in his blood, and made us kings and priests unto God and his Father. He has now entered into his glory. He sits above on his throne of power, and we will serve him without fear, in holiness and righteousness before him for ever. Amen. Y 3 SER- SERMON XVIII. Mattiie^v, XXI I Ij 9. -* Call no man yout Father upon tlie earth / for One is your Father zvhich is in heaven. 1 HE representations which the scriptures give of God, though highly subUme, are ad- mirably suited to the present imperfect con- dition of our being. While they impress on our hearts those sentiments of reverence and awe which become the feeble depen- dent subjects of his government, they arc fitted at the same time to encourage our confidence, and to bind us to his service by the strongest cords of affection. They present to us that great and mighty Lord, whose voice is the thunder, and whom the heavens and the earth obey, as full of ten- derness and compassion, the raiser of the fallen, SERMON ^XVm. 343 fallen, the reviver of the disconsolate, the judge of the widow and of the fatherless in his holy habitation. Of all the views that can be given of the divine character, none is more interesting and instructive than that which the text suggests. The name of Father brings up at once before the mind whatever can in- spire respect, and confidence, and love : and God is our Father in a far higher and more endearing sense than the parents w^hom we acknowledge upon earth. In comparison with him, they even lose their title to this affectionate appellation ; for One only is our Father, and he is in heaven. It may therefore be a pleasing and useful exercise to contemplate the relation which, in this respect, we bear to the Almighty, and the lessons of consolation and of duty which result from it. And, as w^e proceed, may God himself kindle within us the feelings and affections which become the children of his family. When we turn our thoughts towards God, and to the descriptions that are given of him, we find him possessing, in the most eminent degree, ail the caaracters which y 4. • can 344, SERMON XVIII. can confer a right to the title of Father. He gave us our being and its powers : he disposes the course of things to secure our preservation and comfort : he furnishes the means of educating us for the duties of our station : he has even redeemed us from the ruin into which we had fallen, by paying for us the demands of justice : and he has prepared for us, as soon as we shall be qualified for enjoying it, an ever- lasting inheritance of happiness and glory in the kingdom of the blessed. If, in these various respect?, we consider the wonderful things which God has done for us, how affecting are the proofs of his paternal regard ! He made us, aad my% we ourselves. Fashioning for us a body out of the common dust, adjusting its members most skilfully for mutual co-operation, and adorning it with proportions far n\ore beautiful than are elsewhere to be se.en, he breathed into it a living spirit, an image of himself, furnished with vvdsdom for em- ploying the body in promoting its pur- poses, panting for the honours of an im- mortal existence, and capable of rising through endless advances to a still nearer resemblance SERMON XVIir. 345 fesemblance of the perfections of its parent. At the same time he touched it with the perception of happiness, and inspired it with all those affections and hopes which unite men to each other, and render their existence a source of improvement and delight, Verilji 0 God, we are fear jully and wonderfully made. Thou art our Father^ though Abraham be ignorant of us, and Israel acknowledge us not ; Tbou art our Father ^ mr Redeemer, thy Name is from everlasting. Nor was this noble structure produced as a mere transient display of the skill and contrivance of its great former. God still watches for the preservation of his work. He hath implanted within it the power of continuing itself, and placed it in a scene where all things are suited to its v/ants, and where, in due measure and proportion, they are constantly reproduced by the same wisdom which at first ordained them for the use of man. How admirably hath he adjusted to our exigencies the external circumstances of our condition ! Who in- spires into the parent's breast those natural affections which are so necessary to protect and rear us in our infant years ? Who formsr 345 SERMON XVIII. forms the light adapted to our organs of sight, which spreads before us the riches of nature, and enables us to go among them in quest of the means of subsistence ^ Who refresheth us with the grateful vicissi- tudes of days and seasons ? Who endues the soil with its fertility, waters it with dew from heaven , and enables it, through culture, to increase its productions in, pro- portion to the increasing number of those who are destined to feed on them ? Who upholds around us the mighty fabric of nature, and defends its parts from the in- roads of old age and decay ? Who invi- gorates our own frame, throws off from it the unseen obstructions that are constantly threatning to destroy it, and prolongs it till we have finished our task, and become ready for our departure ? Ail these, with a thousand other instances of beneficent con- cern, are the operations of the Almighty, and proofs of his providential interference to preserve the things which he has made. Though he is himself invisible, like the /sonl which operates within us ; yet we can trace his affectionate, and never ceasing care for our good, in the inexplicable effects which S.E R M O N XVIII. 347 which every where co-operate in its pro- duction. But we have not only been created by God, and are still upheld by him in posses- sion of the talents which he bestowed upon us at our l)irth ; we are destined to improve in wisdom and virtue as means of happi- ness ; and our Father has manifested the most affectionate concern for our education in the innumerable instruments which he employs for advancing it. He has, in this respect also, accommodated our faculties so wisely to the circumstances in which we are placed, that every thing which we see or do contributes to exercise and improve them. By the relation of dependence in which he has placed us to the material ob- jects around us, he compels us to exert our powers of observation and reasoning. Even through the instincts of the inferior animals he suggests to us valuable lessons of in- struction ; and, in the various connexions with our kind, he has provided inexhaus- tible sources both of cultivation to our understanding, and of exercise to the best affections of our hearts. He has besides ^ven us conscience to teach us our duty, and S48 SERMON VXIir. and to remind us of our obligation to prac- tise it : he confirms its admonitions by the secret whisperings of his spirit ; and, in the whole plan of his moral administration, there is a manifest tendency to discourage iniquity, to cherish within us habits of obedience to his law, and to train us for the enjoyment ot a higher and more per- fect state of existence. Verify the righteous Lord loveth righteousness. He ordereth aright the steps of his children ^ and sheweth them the way in which they should go. Through all these channels a candid observer of the plan of providence may, even under the guidance of the light of nature, discover the Almighty, with a fatherly care, providing for our race the means of instruction and improvement. But when we view them in the clearer light shed on them by revelation, how un- speakably are the proofs of his paternal affection magnified to our eye ! How ten- der, how^ endearing is the character which he there sustains, grieving for the miseries of his disobedient offspring, engaged with the most solicitous concern in devising means for their restoration, sending his , prophets SERMON XVIII. Ud prophets in succession to encourage and re- claim them, giving even the Son of his bosom to die for their redemption, and causing all things to work together for their good ! 0 the breadth and length and depth and height of the love of God in Christ Jesus / It passeth knowledge. It exercises a secret influence on all the movements of this lower world, bending them to pro- mote the benevolent purposes of his grace. In consequence of it we are again re- ceived into his family, and see new agents co-operating with him in the scheme of our redemption — Jesus himself pursuing in heaven the work which he had commenced on earth : the Holy Ghost coming from on high to enlighten, to comfort, and to purify his saints : and angels descending as ministring spirits to the heirs of salva- tion. We behold a glorious inheritance prepared for us in heaven, and ready to be conferred on all whose virtuous attainments shall qualify them for enjoying it — an in- heritance of happiness^ which shall satisfy all their desires, which shall increase as their capacities enlarge, and which shall never fade away. In a word, we behold the 350 SERMON XVIII. the station which we now occupy, with all its changes and trials, converted by our elder Brother into a school of grace, to train us for the honours of our father's house ; and we look forward to a time when, as the children of his family, purified from guilt, and beautified with his likeness, we shall assemble round our father's throne, and re- ceive from him the kingdom prepared for us before the foundation of the world. Such, Christians, are some of the grounds on which it becomes us to regard God as our Father, and which give him a better title to this endearing appellation than even the most indulgent parent on earth. He is the author and preserver of our being, and of all the comforts with which it is blessed ; he careth for us continually ; and, by a most extensive and beneficent system of education, which embraces all the inci- dents of our life, and in which all the per- sons of the God-head concur, he qualifies us for that inheritance of glory which he hath laid up in heaven, ready, at the con- summation of things, to be revealed to them who are kept by his power through faith unto salvation. Let 15 J: R M O N XVIII. ' 351 Let us next attend to some of the lessons which this view of the divine character is fitted to suggest. i. The consideration of God as our Fa- ther naturally suggests the services of gra- titude and obedience which we owe to him. What are the duties which natural affec- tion prompts us to perform to those who bear the title of our flithers upon earth ? Does it not teach us to reverence them, to pay them testim.onies of respect, to submit to their authority, and to shew them that we teel ourselves to be their children by resem- bling themin their virtues ? Do we regard such proofs of affection in their case as so justly due, that no man can neglect them without bringing an indelible reproach on his cha- racter ? And can we then suppose that si- milar services of love are not due from us to the Father of our spirits ? The glorious perfections of his nature are fitted to im- press us v/ith sentiments of admiration and dread ; his omniscience can awe within us the rising powers of corruption : and his omnipotence compel us to obedience. But he chooses rather to sugggest our obliga- tions through the relations of affection which he 353 SERMON XVIIL he bears to us. A Son, saith he, bonouretb his Father and a servant his master : if then I be a father, where is mine honour f and if I be a master, where is my fear P Why is my name despised f Do ye thus requite the Lord, 0 people foolish and unwise f Is he not thy Father that bought thee f Hath he not made thee and esta- blished thee f — Let us therefore, Christians, listen to the paternal voice which speaketh . to us from heaven ; and let us give unto God the glory that is due unto him. Let no ofEce of piety that can testify our reve- rence for him be left unperformed. Let us especially be followers of him as dear chil- dren, exhibiting in our conduct the resem- blance which we bear to him, and striving to become perfect as he is perfect, that be- ing blameless and harmless, the sons of God without rebuke, we may shine as lights in the midst of a crooked and perverse gene- ration. Having this hope, let us act wor- thily of our descent, and purify ourselves even as our Father is pure. And though it doth not yet appear what we shall be ; yet we know that when he shall appear, he will acknowledge us as his children ; that we shall SERMON XVIIL 353 shall be like him \ and that we shall see him as he is. 2. The consideration of God as our Fa- ther should teach us the duty which we owe to all his sensitive creatures, and especially to our fellow men. Manifold are our obli- gations to be just and beneficent towards all who enjoy the gift of life. But of these obligations, none is more interesting and powerful than that which results from their being members with us of one family, which has a common head, who feels a con- cern in them all, and who must regard as a contempt of his paternal authority, and as an injury to himself, every act of injustice or neglect that may be done to the meanest of his children. How strongly should this consideration bind us to those, especially, who possess the same nature with ourselves! On the whole race he has stamped the pe- cuhar marks of a common brotherhood. He has planted within us all the same powers and principles of action : he has given us the same interests to pursue : he has linked us together by many tender ties of affec- tion, and rendered our mutual aid necessary both to the comfort and success of our la- z bours 55^ SERMON XVIll. bours. He has even redeemed us by a com- mon Saviour, through whom he commands us to be kindly affectioned one to another ; and invites us to look forward at last to man- sions of rest in one glorious abode, where the whole family of heaven and earth shall be united for ever in the presence of their Father — Hovv' then, Christians, can we now forget the relation in which we stand to our fellow men, or violate the obligations which result from it ! Hatred, and strife, and slander, and every malevolent affection, disturb the peace of God's family, and ren- der the man who indulges them unworthy of a place in it. Let us, therefore, put them far from us. Remembring hov/ good and pleasant it is for brethren to dwell to- gether in unity, let us give to all their due. Let us shun oppression and violence. Let us love even our enemies^ bless them that cu7^se uSi and pray for them zvho despitefully use and persecute us^ that we may be the chil- dren of our Father which is in heaven. Thus, even in this distant land, shall we experi- ence the smile of his approbation, and rise gradually, through the exercise of kind af- fection, to that blessed isociety who inhabit tb<;i i SERMON XVIII. 355 the city of the living God, even to an innumer- able company of angels, and to the general as- sembly and church of the First Born which are ivritten in heaven, and to God the Judge of all, and to the spirits of Just men made perfect. Many other improving lessons naturally result from the consideration that God is our Father. But I shall only mention farther, 3. The consolation which it furnishes a- mid all the changes and afflictions of life. In this world we must meet with tribula- tion. Mutability is the condition of all sublunary things. We see around us, in the fortunes of men, incessant changes from wealth to poverty, from elevation to abase- ment, from joy to sorrow, from health to sickness, from life to death. Amid these incessant revolutions, who shall secure us, for one day, in possession of the blessings which we now enjoy ? Who can prevent what is mutable from changing, what is corruptible from wasting, what was lent only for a season from departing, what is mortal from dying r No, my brethren, the condition of man is never at rest ; and, if we had no better security for our happiness z 2 than S56 SERMON XVIIL than the permanence of outward prosperi- ty, our state would be miserable indeed. But how reviving is the thought, that all these changes are under the direction of our Father, who is wise and beneficent, and who grieveth not willingly the children of men ! Though we knew not the purposes which he serves by them, it would become us as his creatures, who having nothing but what he gives, to submit to his appoint- ments, and to consent that he should do what he wills with his own. But knowing that all events are designed for good ; that even affliction is intended to profit those who are exercised by it — to open their eyes to the malignity of sin, to furnish materials for the exercise of their sympathetic affec- tions, to confirm their fortitude, and to pre- pare them for quitting a scene in which they are not destined to dwell — how cheer- fully should we receive even the hardest trials of life ! Though they come in an am- biguous form, are they not blessings from our Father's hand, and essential parts in that wise system of means by which he re- claims us from corruption, and educates us for future glory ? These, Christians, are de- lightful SERMON XVIII. $57 lightful views of the plan of providence. Supported by the hopes which they give, the good man, who performs his duty, can look at the threatenings of the storm, and see nothing in it to alarm him. Amid all the changes that happen, he maintains his confidence in God ; and when at last na- ture decays, and he feels within him the symptoms of approaching dissolution, un- dismayed at the prospect, he resigns his spirit into the hands of his Father, hailing the day which terminates the toils of his e- ducation, and puts him in possession of the promised inheritance. Let us, my brethren, by a patient con- tinuance in well-doing, labour assiduously that in the hour of affliction, and at the end of our pilgrimage, these consolations may be ours. And to the one God, the Father of all, who is above all, and through all, and in us all — to Him be praise, and ho- nour, and glory, for ever and ever. Amen. SER- SERMON XIX. {Preached in the High Church of Edinburgh 4th January 1801, being the Jirst Sunday after the interment of the Rev. Dr Blair.) Heb, VI, 11, 12. A /id we desire that every one of you do shezo the same diligence^ to the full assurance oj hope un- to the end. That ye be not slothjul, hut jollowcrs of them zcho, through fail k and patience^ inherit the promises. X HE great distinguishing character of Christianity consists in the intimate relation which all its parts bear to a state of future existence. It not only announces immor- tality to man, but incorporates the belief of it with every thing which it presents to our attention. The whole scope of its doctrines and institutions serves to remind us perpe- tually that we are destined for a nobler scene of being than the present, and to pre- pare us for its enjoyments. If Christ died, it SERMON XIX. 359 it was that he might redeem his servants from death : if he rose again, it was to be- get us again to a lively bope, to an inheritance incorruptible^ undefiled^ and thoJ fadeth not away : if, at his command, we approach the waters of baptism, and are planted to- gether with him in the likeness of his death^ it is that we may be also in the likeness of his resurrection : and v/hen, at the holy supper, we taste the memorials of his passion, they are emblems to us of the bread of life^ and pledges of that feast of jby which is pre- pared for the faithful in his Father's king- dom. Even the afflictions of this mortal state are employed by Christ to raise the view of his followers to a better country — to an enduring substance in heaven ; and all the duties which he calls us to perform are enforced by the sanctions of futurity, and represented as means of qualifying us for that eternal life, which is promised to all, who, by a patient continuance in zvell-do- ing, seek for glory, and honour y and immorta- lity. In conformity with this animating view of the christian system, the Apostle, in the commencement of this chapter, exhorts the z 4 Hebrews 360 SERMON XIX. Hebrews to go on to perfection — not to' be satisfied with a wavering unproductive knowledge of the mere elementary princi- ples of Christian doctrine, but to follow these principles, wdth steady conviction, through all their consequences and appli- cations. He informs them that an imper- fect, unsteady persuasion would not be able, in days of temptation and peri], to support either itself, or the virtues vv^bich should rest on it ; and that, if in conse- quence of ill-established or defective know- ledge, they once fell from their steadfast- ness, it would not be possible to renew, them again to repentance. He therefore desires that every individual among them would shew the utmost diligence to obtain full and final certainty respecting the hope of futurity, in order that they might be no longer slothful, but followers of them^ who^ through faith and patience^ inherit the pro^ mises. From these words then v/e may con- sider, I. The means by which we may secure the happiness of a future state, and II. The SERMON XIX. 3G1 II. The encouragement to exertion in pursuit of it, arising from the success of those who have gone before us to the possession of the promised inheritance. 1. Let us consider the means by which the happiness of heaven may be attained. Those, who now triumph in the enjoy- ment of it, reached it, says the Apostle, through faith and patience. And by the same steps we may follow them to their bright abode. The words faith and patience are here taken in their most extensive sense, as representing each a particular class of vir- tues. Faith describes the sound state of the understanding in the perception and application of religious truth : and patience denotes that calm and firm fortitude of heart, which enables us to resist every se- duction, and, at the call of faith, to hold onward undaunted in the path which con-» science prescribes. These virtues therefore comprehend whatever, in a moral view, is necessary to adorn the understanding and the heart of man, and consequently they form, by their union, the perfection of the human character. The 36^ SERMON XIX. The term faith occurs in the New Testa- ment under various limitations, according to the nature of the objects on which it rests, of the degrees of assent with which it embraces them, and of the ends for which it is cherished. These Hmitations have given rise to many controversies on this subject into which we have, at present, no occasion to enter. It is sufficient for us to know that faith usually denotes the state of mind that is experienced when we receive with conviction, and regard as realities, the interesting facts which revelation presents to us. It gives certainty and substance to the unseen objects of religious contempla- tion, qualifying them to impress our affec- tions, and according to the laws of our moral nature, bending for action every congenial spring^of the soul. The objects of this faith are all the truths of religion. It embraces whatever has been made known to us concerning God, his perfections and government. In the view of the Apostle, it embraces especially, through all its parts, the greater mystery of godliness, God manifested in the flesh ; and t4iat series of events through which, in the establishment SERMON XIX. SS3 establishment and administration of his mediatorial kingdom, he restores purity and happiness to the race of men. Follow- ing him within the veil, it fixes its eye with particular steadfastness on the powers of the world to come ; and embodying before our imagination the eternal and un- alterable consequences of our present con- duct, it enables us to estimate accurately the true nature of this earthly state, and to determine the course which wisdom pre- scribes for us, in all the variety of circum- stances in which we can be placed. To this faith the scriptures ascribe the noblest attributes. They represent it as overcoming the world, as rendering men and their services pleasing to God, and as purifying them for their admission into heaven. And when we consider the na- ture of this principle, we cannot be surpris- ed at the influence which is attributed to it. It is in itself a virtue of the highest order, and it supplies the motives which invigorate and secure all the other virtues of the heart. It is a great^mistake, my brethren, to suppose that we are not accountable for the 364^ SERMON XIX, the assent 'of our muderstanding ; or that our opinions, in matters of religion, are in no degree dependent upon us ; and that therefore no blame can be due to us for the defects, or the errors of our faith. The understanding is a most valuable talent committed to us by God. It is as liable to be perverted, through our own fault, as any other talent that has been given us : and the most common instruments of its perversion are the depraved inclinations that prevail within us. When the heart is evil, we fly from the light that would re- prove us. Though the doctrines af religion be set before us, and though the evidence by which they are supported be produced along with them, yet that evidence is not irresistible. It is addressed to free agents ; and it depends upon ourselves whether we shall examine it with attention, candour and impartiality ; or with indifference and a wish to find it defective. The man w^ho brings to this examination a fair mind, and who receives the trutn in the love of it, discharges a more important duty. While on the other hand, the man, who allows himself to be biassed by improper motives ; who SERMON XIX. 365 who sees the object before him only through the colouring which his passions give ; who suffers prejudice, or vanity, or vice to obstruct the light of his judgment, is guilty of a gross and dangerous iniquity. He extinguishes the lamp which heaven gave him for his direction, and renders his corruption more incurable and desperate than that even of the convinced criminal ; because the very light that should have re- claimed him, he has converted into dark- ness. The faith therefore which saves the sin- ner is not to be regarded as a charm that derives all its value from the positive or- dination of Christ. It possesses an intrin- sic worth. It proceels from a virtuous state of mind ; it indicates a right use of our intellectual faculty ; and it is the foundation and support of whatever is esti- mable and exalted in the human character. There are good reasons, therefore, why the scriptures uniformly represent this faith as indispensible to a Christian, as the spring of his acceptableness to God, and as a most important part of his preparation for hea- ven. But 366 SERMON XIX. Eut in order to reach perfection, we must join to our faith patience, or that quahty of the heart which fortifies us against the influence of every impression that would seduce us from our duty. How many are there, my brethren, who feel within them the light of good princi- ples, whose conscience marks out faithfully the course they ought to follow, and whose faith paints in vivid colouring before them all the sanctions of obedience, who yet suf- fer themselves to be entangled daily in the snares of sin ? Though they know the dan- ger of iniquity, they want the steadiness of character which is necessary to resist if. They suffer themselves to be hurried away by the impulse of the moment : they do the evil which they see : and even with the rocks of destruction full before them, while the powers of passion play around the heart, they follow the deceitful current of present inclination ; and make shipwreck of faith and a good conscience. The temptations that assail the resolution of the just are of very different kinds ; and there are, no doubt, situations in which the quality here termed patience may appear more SERMON XIX. 367 more obviously necessary than in others to the character of a perfect man. Present interest, as well as present inclination, may- rise in opposition to the dictate of duty ; and we may be called to suffer much, and long in defence of our integrity. This was espe- cially the situation of the first, Christians. Both their faith, and their patience had many trials to surmount before they had their perfect work. The prejudices of educa- tion, the power of habit, the reverence for long established institutions, and the authori- ty of learning, combined with the repugnan- cies of an evil heart of unbelief, to form an almost insuperable barrier against the evi dence of Christianity. And even after this evidence had prevailed, when light had broken in upon the mind, and the Christian convert had tasted the heavenly gift of truth, he saw before him, in embracing it, a path of terrors in which he must resist, even unto bloody striving against sin. In this situation fortitude the most heroic was ne- cessary for his support. The scene in which he acted, called forth into continual exertion all the firmness of his soul. Patience, in the profession of his faith, became thus the leading 368 SERMON XIX. leading feature of his character — the mas- ter virtue which regulated the mevements of the rest, and determined their value. In other situations this virtue may ap- pear under some diversity of aspect, and shine with^a milder lustre. But in all situ- ations, it lies at the foundation of a religious character, and forms one of its essential con- stituents. In all situations we must have the patience that is necessary to self com- mand. We must be able to bear unmoved the loss of temporary gratification, to suf- fer, without dejection, the afflictions that befal us, and to execute calmly, and in spite of all opposition, even the hardest com- mands of our conscience and our God. By thus possessing our souls in patience, we shall be able to hold on our way to heaven unse- duced, superior to the events of this passing state, and counting nothing, not even life itself, dear, that we may finish our course with joy. These observations prove that faith and patience, the virtue of a pure enlightened understanding, and the virtue of a firm in- corruptible heart, lie at the root of a perfect character. Did your time permit, it would be SERMON XIX. 56-9 be easy to shew how they give rise to the other graces of the Christian life by sup- plying the nourishment necessary for their support, and expanding themselves as cir- cumstances require into piety, benevolence, and every other moral ornament of man. But I shall rather proceed, at present, as was proposed, 2. To consider the motives which the text suggests for recommending to us the culti- vation of these virtues, as means of qua- lifying us for the promised inheritance. Faith and patience, Hke all other bless- ings, descend from heaven. They are the gifts of God through Jesus Christ. But the use and improvement of them, from which alone they become blessings to us, are left dependent on ourselves. Many motives concur to excite our dihgence in improving them ; but there is a peculiar tenderness and force in that which is sug- gested by the text. Through them the saints who have gone before us, are now in- heriting the promises. This argument addresses at once our in- terest, our understanding, and the best af- fections of our heart. It raises our view to A a the 370 SERMON XIX. the recompence of reward, the glorious iu'- heritance promised to the faithful : It places before us a visible proof that the attainment of this inheritance is not beyond the reach of men like us : it warms within us the sen- timent of generous emulation : and it at- tracts us onward by ties that are dear as life to the virtuous soul — by the love of those whom 'death has consecrated in our imagi- nation, and by the ravishing prospect of re- joining them in heaven. As this is a motive which operates powerfully on every virtuous mind, so we have innumerable means of calling it up to our viev/. In the path to glory, Christians, you are compassed about with a great cloud of witnesses who are at once the spectators and the examples of your virtue. Look back to the saints recorded in the page of scripture, and behold their patience in suf- fering, their steadfastness in the cause of God, and of their country, and their tri- umphant opposition to all the powers of ini- quity. Time zvouldfail me to ttll of the pa- triarchs, and prophets, and apostles, who through faith subdued kingdoms, wrought rights (ousnS'Ss^ dbtained promises^ out of weakness iver^ SEllMOX XIX. 371 were made strongs and turned to flight the or- mies of the aliens. Look to the glorious band of niart^TS, and to the innumerable multi- tudes who, in every succeeding age, have held fast their integrity, and, amid ail the corruption of the times, have been witnesses for virtue and tor God. Contemplate the ardour of their zeal, the warmth of their beneficence, the firmness of their resolution, and their invincible attachm.ent to their /iuty ; and ycu will feH .a portion of their spirit rising in your bosom. For_why should we despair of attaining the pei-fection which ihey have reached before us ? We endure no trials to which they were not exposed, and we possess the same means of resist- ance and of victory. They trembled, like us, in the days of their pilgrimage : like us, they maintained a double conflict with the povyers of sin : they advanced to tiie com- bat in much weakness and fear : but they resolved to conquer, and have marked with their footsteps the path in which we are called to struggle and overcome. Behold .them now, all their labours past, in quiet possession of the prize, with crow ns of glory xiXi their heads, and palms of victory in .'-'•- A a 2 their 572 SERMON XIX. their hands, singing hallelujahs to him who sitteth on the throne, and to the lamb for ever and ever. Animated by this glorious prospect lift up the hands which hang down ; meet with courage the difficulties of your trial ; resolve to reach t le perfection you contemplate ; and let nothing seduce you from your steadfa tness. In this competition for virtuou ■ attain- ment it may be often useful to ring down your eye, from contemplating the depaited worthies of distant times and countries, to^ wards patterns of imitation that are en- deared to you by more tender ties. If, ,in the relations of life, you have had a con- nection,— if, in the circle of your own family, you have had a father, a husband, or a brother, who discharged with exem- plary fidelity the duties of his station, whom every tongue blessed as the friend of God and man, and who died as hs lived, full of faith and hope, place him before you as the model of your conduct, — conceive him bending from his seat in the skies, pleased with your attachment, deeply interested in your success, and cheering you in your la- bours of love. His image will be as a guar^ dian SERMON XIX. 37S dian angel, to admonish you when dangers approach, to rouse within you every princi- ple of virtuous exertion, and to inspire you with strength to overcome. Our hearts, Christians, have been deeply pierced with the loss of a most valuable connection, of a venerable pastor^ who w^atched long for our souls, and, with the most unwearied fidelity, pointed out to us the path of happiness. To you, and to the general interests of pure religion, he was attached by many powerful obUgations. A native of this city, and descended from a family which, in former times, had given several bright ornaments to the Church of Scotland, he felt the warmest tendencies of nature co-operating with the principles of duty, to call forth all his powers in the sa* cred service to which he was devoted. And by the blessing of God on his industry, he rose to an eminence in professional merit, which has reflected distinguished honour oa the city, on the church, and on the country which produced him. It was the fortune of Dr Blair to appear at a period when the literature of his coun- try was just beginning to receive polish and A a 3 an 374^ SERMON XIX/ an useful direction ; and when it was emu- lously cultivated by a bright constellation, of young men who were destined to carry it to high perfection. In concert with them he applied himself with diligence and assiduity to all: those branches of study which-GOuld contribute to form him for the eloquence of the pulpit. This was the de-- partment in which he chose to excel ; to which all the force of his genius was direct- ed ; and in which he soon felt that his ef- forts were to be suecessful. For from the very commencement of his theological studies, he gave presages of his future at- tainments ; and, in the societies of his youthful companions, laid the foundations of that splendid reputation which, through a long life of meritorious service, continued to increase ; and which baa procured for him as a religious instructor, access to the understandings and the hearts of all the most cultivated inhabitants of the Christian. world: To you, my brethren, who have long en- joyed the inestimable blessing of his im- mediate instruction, it will not be necessary to describe the qualities of that luminous, fascina SERMON XIX. 875 fascinating eloquence, with which he waa accustomed to warm, and ravish, and a-*' mend your hearts. You may have heard others who equalled, or even excelled him in some of the requisites of pulpit oratory^ in occasional profoundness of thought, irx vivid flashes of imagination, or in pathetic addresses to the heart. But there never was a public teacher in whom all these re- quisites were combined in juster 'propor- tions, placed under the direction of a more exquisite sense of propriety, and employed with more uniform success to convey useful and practical instruction. Standing on the foundation of the Apostles and Prophets, he exhibited the doctrines of Christ in their genuine purity, separated from the dross of superstition, and traced with inimitable ele- gance, through all their beneficial influence on the consolation, on the order, and on the virtue both of public and private life. Hence his discourses, uniting in the most perfect form the attractions of utility and beauty, gave a new and better tone to the style of instruction from the pulpit ; and contributed in a remarkable degree to cor* rect and refine the religious, the moral, and A a 4 the 376 SERMON XIX. the literary taste of the times in wiiica he hved. The universal admiration which attend- ed his ministerial labours, was some recom- pence to him for the exertions they had cost. But his chief recompence arose from the G€>nsciousness of having contributed so eminently to edify the Church of Christ, and from the improving influence which his labours had shed on his own heart. For he was at home and in himself the perfect image of that meekness^ simplicity, gentle« ness, and contentment, which his writings recommend. He was long happy in his domestic relations ; and, though doomed at last to feel, through their loss in succession, the heaviest strokes of affliction ; yet his mind, fortified by religious habits, and buoyed- up by his native tendency to con- tentment, sustained itself on God, and ena- bled him to persevere to the end in the ac- tive and cheerful discharge of the duties of his station ; preparing for the world the blessings of elegant instruction ; tendering to the mourner the lessons of divine conso- lation ; guiding the young by his counsels j aiding the meritorious with his influence ; 5 and SERMON XIX. '377 and supporting, by hk voice and by his conduct, the civil and ecclesiastical institu- tions of his Countiy. With such dispositions and habits it was natural that he should enjoy a distinguished portion of felicity. And perhaps there ne- ver was a man who experienced more com- pletely that tbe ways of wisdom are ways of pleasantness, and that all her paths are peace. His Country was proud of his merits, and at different times conferred on him, through the hands of the Sovereign, the most hon- ourable and substantial proofs of her appro- bation : foreign lands learned from him the way of salvation : he saw marks of de- ference, and respect wherever he appeared: and he felt within himself the gratulation of a good conscience, and the hope of im- mortality. It was peculiarly delightful to see him in the latest period of his life, at the venerable age of eighty-two, looking b^ck on almost threescore years spent in the public service of his God, pleased with the recollections which it gave, possessing a mind still vigorous and clear, the dehght of his friends, sensible to the attentions which they paid to him, burning with zeal for 57S SERMON XIX. for the good of the Church, and, with all the ardour of youthful ambition, preparing the materials of a new claim to the grati-^ tude and admiration of posterity. In this active state of preparation, with the lamp of life still clear and bright, he was found by the Great Lord of all when he came to say « It is enough ;' and, after a single night of pain, to call him gently to his rest. He has gone to give an account of his stewardship. — The Church mourns in him the loss of her brightest ornament. — Let us submit to the stroke with resignation and reverence j and, as the most acceptable proof of respect to his memory, let us learn to practise the lessons which he taught. And may the God whom he served in the gospel of his Son, dwell in our hearts to comfort them with the consolations of heaven, and to prepare them for the in- heritance of the saints, for Christ's sake. Amen. ^:f-r^'I , . SER- SERMON XX. (Preached at Borilnuick, aSJ, December 1787, being the first Sundaij after the interment of the Right Jlorioura- ble Robert Dundas of Arniaton, Esq. Lord President of the Court of Session.) Psalm, cxii, l6. The i^ighteous shall he in everlasting remem- brance. J. HE desire of reputation is natural to man It is part of the social constitution which God has given us ; and, when properly di- rected, has a powerful tendency to promote our moral perfection. By uniting the ap- probation of our brethren to the testimony of our conscience, it heightens the reward of righteousness, and imparts to virtue an energetic vigour which enables her to des- pise the allurements of indolence, to resist the temptations of interest and of pleasure, and to guide her votary, through scenes even of danger and death, to great and ho- nourable conduct. This 380 SERMON XX. This principle, which has so extensive power in forming the character of men, is inseparable from their nature. It appears in the mind at a very early period, furnish- ing to the skilful instructor an important instrument of discipline and education. It ■ seems to collect force as our faculties ad- vance towards maturity. In a generous breast it continues to burn with increasing ardour through the whole of life ; and though baser minds, hardened by habitual guilt, may become less sensible to its in- fluence, yet, even in them, it cannot be to- tally extinguished. In the lowest stage of their degeneracy, they still retain some re-^ gard to the judgment of the world. They have still some friends whose opinion they respect, some associates w^hose contempt they are unwilling to provoke, some esti- mable qualities, on which they hope to build their fame, and to secure a portion of applause. But a portion of applause from our im- mediate neighbours will not satisfy the am- bition of our minds. We desire not the esteem of our contemporaries alone. Ex~ tending our prospects through a wider sphere^ SERMON XX. 381 sphere, we seek to be approved by the spi- rits of the just who adorned the ages that are past ; and look forward, with fond ex- pectation, to the reverence that awaits us, after this mortal frame shall have moulder- ed into dust. As if actuated by a presage of our immortal destination, and of the in- terest which we shall yet take in future scenes, we often discover greater anxiety to secure the applause of posterity, than of those who are our immediate spectators in the business of life. How often has the patriot, trusting to the judgment of futuri- ty, proceeded with his work of reforma- tion, in opposition to the combined preju- dices of his cotemporaries, unable as yet to appreciate the reasons of his conduct ! Even when he falls in the cause of free- dom, a martyr to the ignorance or corrup- tion of the times, how often do we see him smihng on death with a generous triumph, looking forward through the infamy which now covers him to the approbation of a more enlightened age, and blessing his ene- mies for their malevolence, which but con- summates the glory of his virtue, and trans- mit;. 382 SERMON 'XX. mits his deathless fame, with a superior lustre, to the latest generations I But though the desire of reputation be natural to man, and though it operates with peculiar force in the noblest minds ; yet it IS not to be foUov/ed as the guide of Dur conduc.t. In itself it is ^ blind im- pulse, an,d produces effects that are either good or bad, according tq the direction which it receives. If it leads us to seek the esteem of our brethren by methods which pur conscience condemns, to cotirt their applause by flattering their follies or their passions, to cultiyate only the accompHsh- ments y/hich coincide with the preposses- sions of the times, or to assume the appear- ance of accomplishments which we do not possess, it deviates from the purpose which it was intended to serve. It is valuable oji- ly when it acts in subordination to the principles of virtue, and gives additional force to their impression. Sepiirated from these principles, it bepomes a source of cor- ruption and depravity. Instead of animate ing the ^oul to generous deeds, it descends to foster the sweUings of vain glory, and tq beget SERMON XX. S9$ beget the meanness of ostentation, or the vileness of hypocrisy. When the love of praise is perverted to such unworthy purposes, it seldom accom- pUshes its end. For though the artifices of deceit may succeed for a while, and obtain for the undeserving a temporary applause-, yet the constitution of things has placed an insuperable bar between the practice of ini- quity and a durable reputation. The joy of the hypocrite, saith the scripture, shall last but for a moment. The name of the wicked shall rot, and the remembrance of him perish from the earth. Yea, the light of the wicked shall be put out, and the spark of his fire shall not shine. To the lirtuous alone belongs the reward of lasting glory ; and the Almighty will not suffer a stranger to intermeddle with their joy. For them Providence has prepared the ap- probation of the age in which they live, and their memorial descends to warm the ad- nniration of succeeding times. Light is sown for the upright ; the memory of the just is blessed ; and the righteous shall be in eyer-i };isting remembrance. This, 381, SERMON XX. This, Christians, is a comfortable doctrine. It tends in some degree to restrain the over- flowings of iniquity ; and it supports the courage of good men amid all the difficul- ties With which they have to struggle. Let me therefore claim your attention, while I proceed to suggest a few observations, for the purpose of confirming this important truth, That the practice of righteousness is the most effectual method to secure the esteem and confidence of the men with whom we live, — and that it will transmit our names with honour to posterity. When God formed the human mind, he formed it after his owm image, impressed with the love of righteousness, and the ha» tred of iniquity. And though the glory of our nature be now much defaced, yet the remains of this original constitution are still found in it, disposing us to approve and reve- rence whatever bears the mark of integrity. Amid the ruins of the fail, virtue is still a lovely form, fitted to attract and captivate the heart of man. On every character that bears the impression of her features, she diffuses a resistless charm, which renders it the natural object of our esteem, v/hich gives ITS SERMON XX. 385 us an interest in its fortune, which extorts respect from the wicked themselves, and forces them to acknowledge, that the righte- ous is more excellent than his neighbour. This approbation of worthy conduct is the immediate dictate of our nature, and springs up in our hearts without any regard to the advantages that result from it. We applaud justice and generosity, when they appear in distant ages, or in distant nations, though their effects do not extend to us. We respect the magnanimity and public spirit of an enemy, even though they have been employed against our counti'y. They have a value in themselves, independent of the circumstances in which they were exerted, and which every rational mind must per- ceive and honour. But virtue appears still more lovely, when viewed in connection with the advantages that spring from it. God lias rendered it necessary, in a certain degree at least, to the existence of society ; and the voice of inter- est concurs with the voice of conscience to celebrate its praise. It represents the righte- ous as blessings to the country where they dwell, as the firmest pillars of the state, and B b the 3S6 SERMON XX. the only persons that, in the private inter- course of hfe, deserve the confidence of their brethren. The wicked you may indeed see associating together, for the purposes of riot and dissipation, to spend an idle hour, and to free themselves from the horrors of soli- tude and reflection. But who is the man to whom they unbosom themselves in the confidence of secrecy ; to whom they cling in the hour of difficulty ; and by whose counsels they are conducted in every matter of importance ? Who is the man to whom, on the bed of death, they commit the help- less orphans whom they leave behind them ? In such instances, their conduct proclairris their reverence for virtue, and declares that the righteous man alone is the object of their trust. Though his virtues be a reproof to their own wickedness ; yet they cannot withhold from him this honourable testi- mony of their approbation. But though righteousness, wherever it is perceived, be the natural and necessary ob- ject of respect ; yet, in the present scene of confusion, it is too often mingled with cir- cumstances that conceal it from the view of the w^orld. The characters of the best men *re here shaded with manifold imperfections. I Even SERMON XX. 387 Even their good qualities are sometimes viewed through the medium of envy or of prejudice. The shaft that flies in the dark may wound their reputation, and the com- petitions of interest divert our attention from their merit. But these circumstances have, for the most part, but a temporary in- fluence. In consequence of their operation, single and scattered efiibrts of virtue may be consigned to forgetfulness ; but an uniform system of persevering goodness will, in ge- neral, overcome every obstacle, and obtain for the righteous, even in their Hfetime, the praise that is due to their integrity. The God whom they serve, and in whose hand are the hearts of men, will bring forth their righteousness as the light, and their judg- ment as the noon day. A day at least is coming, which, in the ordinary progress of events, displays the characters of men with suflticient evidence, and bestows on the just their merited ap- plause. When the work of life is flnished, an awful tribunal is prepared for the dead in the hearts of those who survive them, appointed by heaven to review their con- duct, and to fix the measure of their fame. B b 2 Before 388 SERMON XX. Before this tribunal every man must stand to receive his sentence : and Providence has so arranged the course of things, as to secure, in most cases, an equitable decision for the righteous. Death removes the chief causes of uncharitable judgment, and ena- bles us to estimate the value of departed worth, free from the influence of prejudice and passion. The little jealousies which darken the reputation of the living, seldom pursue them beyond the limits of the grave. Envy ceases when their merit has ceased to- be an obstacle to our ambition. Their im- perfections are buried with their bodies in the tomb, and soon forgotten ; while their better qualities, recalled often to our thoughts, and heightened by the inconve- niencies which their departure occasions, live in the remembrance of their neigh- bours, and receive the tribute of just appro- bation. We are even willing to repay them by an excess of praise for the injury we did them while alive. Embalmed with the blessings of the good, their memory descends as an inheritance to their posterity ; and their children's children, through many ge- nerations, respected on their account, and animated SERMON XX. 389 animated by the example which they have left, rise up to show the image of their vir- tues, and to call them blessed. These, my brethren, are consolations which every good man may carry with him to the bed of death, to support his hopes in the hour of dissolution. However humble his lot may have been, yet he may go down to the grave in peace, trusting that his me- mory shall not perish in the dust ; that the remembrance of his virtues shall live in the circle where his usefulness was known ; and that when his Redeemer shall stand on the earth at the latter day, his righteousness shall be published to the assembled world, and crowned with everlasting applause. But if the righteous man has been called to act in a superior station, if he has been sent by heaven like an angel of mercy, to scatter blessings through a guilty land, to support the glory of a falling constitution, to strengthen the arm of justice, and to diffuse her influence to the remotest corners of an empire, his reward will bear a proportion to the good he has performed. Appearing on a more conspicuous stage, his actions are more exposed to the observation of his B b 3 brethern : S90 SERMON XX. brethren ; the effects of his conduct extend to a greater distance ; and a more nume- rous multitude is called to witness and ap- prove his virtue. Though envy may some- times seek to blast his rising glory, and ri- vals threaten to sap the foundation of his greatness, yet integrity is his sure defence, and the applauding voice of a nation is lift- ed up to deprecate his fall. Every heart takes an interest in his fortunes. To his declining years, good men look forward as to a public calamity. If he sickens, the skilful of the land attend his couch with filial solicitude ; the anxious voice of inquiry is heard at his door ; and the prayers of the faithful ascend to heaven for his recovery. When he fails, his country mourns. Her sorrowing nobles assemble in crowds to pay the last tender tribute to his memory ; the poor bewail the loss of their protector ; and the widow and the orphan are seen weeping at his grave. But angels have bended from their thrones to receive their kindred spirit, to rejoice with him at the remembrance of the labours he has sustained, and to welcome his arrival in the mansions of the just. His bleeding country, with SERMON XX. 391 with a generous ardour, labours to perpetuate his worth. The tears of genius fall around his tomb. The faithful page of the historian re- cords his fame, and the sculptured marble transmits to posterity the image of the dead. O ! may it rouse them to the imitation of his virtues; and, like the mantle of Elijah, convey to future patriots a portion of his spirit ! Such, Christians, is the care which Pro« vidence has taken to perpetuate the remem- brance of the righteous. When we com- mit their bodies to the dust, we may trust that their memory will survive the ruins of this mortal tabernacle, and that their spirits have gone to mingle in the society of the blessed. On their account, therefore, we are not permitted to weep. But when the faithful fail from among men, we may weep for ourselves, and for our children. On the present mournful occasion, we may surely, without a crime, join our voice to the ge- neral lamentation of our country, and weep at the remembrance of departed virtue. Thd distinguished person whose remains we late- ly consigned to the tomb, was endeared to us by peculiar ties. Living under his im- Tiiediate protection, we saw more distinctly B b 4 the 392 SERMON XX, the wisdom of his conduct ; and seemed to participate in the honours that were paid him. Descended from a race of patriots, whose services to the coimtry your infant tongues were taught to rehearse, he added new lustre to the ancient reputation of his family. Receiving from nature the princi- ples of a vigorous understanding, which had been carefully improved by a regular and extensive education, he soon attained distin- guished eminence in his profession at the bar. At an early period of his life, he was called by his sovereign to take an active share in the direction of public business ; and in the season of danger, when a gene- rous, but misguided multitude, threatened the ruin of our constitution, he contributed, in a very considerable degree, by the vigour and prudence of his conduct, to disconcert the measures of rebelUon, and to restore the peace and security of the nation. Af- ter rising through the several gradations of law-preferment, and honourably represent- ing his native county in Parliament, he was at last, when in the full vigour of his age, called to fill the most important office in this part of the kingdom, to superintend the functions SERMON XX. 39S functions of public justice, and to secure to every subject the free enjoyment of his rights. To this office he brought an assemblage of great qualities that are rarely united in the same person. With that minute knowledge of business which practice alone can bestow, he possessed an acuteness of judgment, which perceived at a glance the point on which any question rested ; an extent of memory from which no essential circumstance could escape ; and a patience of investigation that would have given distinction to men whose abilities were far inferior to his. To these intellectual talents, he added the still more' valuable qualities of the heart, a warm and steady love of justice, with that incorrupti- ble integrity, which nothing could seduce from the path of duty. Even his external appearance wore the aspect of command, and inspired an awful respect befitting the dignity of a supreme Court. With these accomplishments he took his station at the head of the bench of juistice ; and soon rose, in the general opinion of his country, to be the first character in the list of Presidents. During the long period of his administration, justice flowed through 2 the 394 SERMON XX. the land in a clear untroubled stream, free from those obstructions that have been so often permitted to retard its course, and which are sometimes more ruinous to the contending parties than an iniquitous deci- sion. Assiduous himself and ardent in the duties of his profession, he inspired into the breasts of his colleagues a portion of the same spirit, and introduced into law-pro- ceedings a vigour and dispatch hitherto un- known. Notwithstanding the great in- crease of business which the increased pros- perity of the nation must have necessarily occasioned, he left at his death a smaller number of undecided causes than any of his predecessors*. These were the circumstances that at- tracted the applause of his contemporaries, and which have rendered his death an irre- parable calamity to the nation. But by us, my brethren, he was known for other virtues. The public have lost a faithful and * At his admission to the office, he found business that had been ready for receiving the judgment of the Court for more than two years. At his death no cause remained undecided that had been ready for decision a few weeks be- fore. SERMON XX. 395 and able magistrate ; but we have lost a fa- ther and a friend. We saw him in the more private walks of life, and experienced the warmth of his attachment, or the bles- sings of his protection. The same ardour of mind that marked his public character, descended with him to his retirement, to enliven his devotion, and to prompt his be- nevolence. Attached to the ordinances of religion, and active in his duty as a mem- ber of the church, he was studious to give you, in this holy place, an example of that public reverence which is due from all to the Father of their spirits. Hospitable in his disposition, attentive in his manner, lively in his. conversation, and steady in his friendships, he was peculiarly formed to se- cure the esteem of his acquaintance, and to promote the intercourse of social life. The poor who mourn for his loss, and his do- mestics who have grown old in his service, testify the general humanity of his mind. But the warmth of his paternal affec- tions was known to his family alone, and to those who have seen him mingling with them in the tenderness of domestic endearment, who have marked his eye swim- sgG S E R M O N XX. swimming with a parent's fondness, while he surveyed the numerous progeny sent by heaven to bless the evening of his day, and to transmit the memory and the image of his virtues to their succeeding race. These were affections which he laboured to con- ceal. But they were marked by those who studied his conduct : they are recorded in the register of heaven, and will meet their reward. Such Vv^ere the qualities that adorned the illustrious Judge whose death we now de- plore. If he had his failings, (and the lot of immanity, alas ! was also his), they were the failings of a great mind, and sprang from the same impetuosity of temper which was the source of his noblest virtues. But they are now gone to the drear abode of forgetfulness ; while his better qualities live in the hearts of the good, and will descend in the records of fame to rouse the emula- tion of distant ages. He has gone himself to his destined habitation, to appear before the Great Judge of all, and to receive ac- cording to his deeds. Let us, my brethren, prepare to follow him. For though we be still permitted to prolong the term of our probation SERMON XX. 31)7 probation, and to enjoy the society of our friends on earth, yet we also must soon en- ter the narrow house, and mingle our bones with the ashes ot our fathers. God alone knows the hour that is appointed to lay us with the dead. To some he grants a term of many years, and enables them to rejoice in them all ; while others scarcely open their eyes to the light of heaven, ,when he commands them to w^ithdraw again into darkness and disappear. Of those who joined us in paying funeral honours to the deceased, one illustrious shade has gone al- ready to visit him in the land of souls *. Our lot will follow in its turn. The pre- sent day alone is ours. Even before it has reached its close, the angel of death may have raised his hand to heaven, and sworn by Him that liveth for ever, that time, with regard to us, shall be no more. If at this solemn moment, he were to descend in the terrors of his wrath, and standing visibly, before us, to summon us away to the assem- bly of our fathers, what would be the feel- ings of our hearts ! and that awful moment is * Jolin Earl of Hyndford. who died suddenly on flic third day after the interment of his friend the Lord President. 398 SERMON XX. is fast approaching to us all. Let us prepare to meet it with the composure and the con- fidence of Christians. Let us live the life of the righteous, and our last end shall be like his. Then, when we fall, we shall fall lamented by the good ; and while our bo- dies sleep in the silence of the tomb, our names shall be in everlasting remembrance, and our spirits shall rise to the habitations of the just. Amen. SER^ SERMON XXL 2. Tim. I, 10. -Who hath abolished death, and Irri/ght life and imnwrtaiity to light through the gospel. In the whole circle of human investiga- tion, we find no subject more interesting to man than the question which respects his existence in a future world. The sHghtest survey of his present condition exhibits many melancholy proofs of its imperfection. We see him possessing capacities of happi- ness to which this earth affords no suitable gratification ; and exerting powers both ot knowledge and of action in a scene which is too limited for their range, and far too transient for their full improvement. In these circumstances it is natural for him to ask, 400 SERMON XXI. whether the present stage be the only one upon which he is destined to appear ? Whether he shall ever be placed in a situa- tion more favourable to the exercise and cultivation of his faculties, or whether all those ennobling sentiments of happiness and perfection, which at times fill and ele- vate his soul, must sink with his body, and perish in the grave ? To these questions the Christian revelation enables us to give satisfying answers, and to pronounce decisively that man will sur- vive the dissolution of his mortal body. The text, in particular, intimates that our Saviour Jesus Christ hath rendered death of no effect^ and that he hath cast light on life and incorruption through the gospel. Our transla • tors indeed render the words more strongly, and convey to us the meaning, that before Christ, life and immortality were altogether unknown, and that they were then brought to light. But for this meaning the original language of the Apostle affords no authori- ty. He asserts only, according to the liter- al interpretation of his words, that our Sa- viour enUghtened these subjects, and thus he leaves the knowledge of the heathens and Jew? SERMON XXI. 4G: Jews concerning them in poilession of its natural value. That knowledge, it is true, was very imperfect ; but it had its use even then. It may be useful still in various re- spects ; and in a question of so much prac- tical importance as that of the life to come, it is neither v/ise nor grateful to cast away with contempt any gleams of light which the wisdom of our Father has imparted to us. I propose, therefore I. To state, and estimate the degree of light which men possessed, respecting a fu- ture existence before the appearance of Christ. And, II. To point out the important additions which have been made to this light through his gospel. I . On the first of these subjects it cannot fail to strike us as a remarkable fact, that an opinion in favour of immortality has uni- versally prevailed. This opinion is to be found not only amid the improvements of philosophy, and the refinements of poUshed life : it pervades every rank of society, and ^eenis to accompany the human race through c c all 402 SERMON XXL all the conditions of their being. Follow man even to his rudest state — to the forest or the cave. You may find him without any civil polity, uninstructed in sciences and arts, unacquainted with the conveniencies of life, attentive only to the cravings of his sensitive nature, and wandering about in quest of subsistence, raised but a single step above the animals which minister to his wants. Yet even this man, unenlightened as he is, looks forward to better days, and is encouraged to support the ills of life by hopes similar to those which animate the breast of a Christian. The circumstances, indeed, with which the different races of men have associated their notion of the world to come, appear with great diversity — a diversity which arises unavoidably from the manner in which their conceptions of it are formed. Their ideas of that untried state must, from the very nature of things, be derived from the enjoyments of their present condition, and must, consequently, be modified by the na- ture of the happiness which they have ex- perienced on earth. But their differences respecting the description of the future world SERMON XXr. 403 world affect neither the reaUty nor the strength of their beUef in its existence. I'he •general idea of an hereafter is the same in ihem ail, and prevails universally. J^^om whence can this universal agree- ment of opinion have proceeded ? From some cause, certainly, which is common to all mankind, and which is uniform and uni- versal in its operation. It must either be a natural result from the ordinary principles of their frame ; or the effect of an original revelation meeting within them principles congenial to itself, and which, therefore, amid the loss of so many other traditions, has continued to accom.pany ihem through all their dispersions. For the united con- sent of mankind, on any subject in which they have an immediate interest, is the voice of their nature — a voice which proceeds from the wise Author of their frame, inti- mating to his children the happiness which they are formed to relish, and the perfection which they are destined to attain. The general and continued prevalence of this opinion, therefore, even supposing it to have originated in tradition, must be traced -viltimately to the natural sentiments of the c c 2 human 404 SERMON XXL human heart. Man, in the exercise of his natural powers, feels that he is born for im- mortality. He carries with him, wherever he turns, a strong desire to survive the pre- sent hfe, and an involuntary presage of a future existence. His mind seems con- scious to herself that this mortal state is a depression below her native dignity. His affections dwell often with friends wlio have left it — he experiences an incomplete- ness in all its enjoyment s^ — he feels wants which it cannot satisfy — and, under the impulse of a spring that operates for ever in his soul, he bends his eye towards another region where he shall meet again the friends of his heart ; where the incon- veniencies of his present condition shall be removed ; where his powers shall no more suffer fatigue ; and where objects more worthy of his pursuit shall be placed before him. In the confused notions then which take their rise from this mixture of feelings, we may find the elements of that hope which, in every age, has led men to anticipate the enjoyments of a future world. And the expectation which this natural impulse pro- duces SERMON XXI. 405 duces is not inconsistent with the most en- lightened sugge:stions of reason. Various considerations may be mentioned which tend to give it a rational support. With this view let me observe 2. When we turn our eye to- the human frame, we discover irresistible proofs that it consists of two substances, a body and a soul — substances which have separate func- tions and qualities, and which are, in some respects, totally independent of each other. The body is a compound of material parti- cles, and is therefore naturally Uable to de- composition. It is known to be in perpetual flux, and, in the course of a short life changes repeatedly every particle of its substance- The soul on the contrary could not perform its functions of thinking, comparing, and reasoning unless it were a simple substance; and if it be a simple substance it cannot perish by dissolution, nor by any mode of destruction of which nature has given us an example. We know, at least, that the mere shifting of its bodily covering does not affect it ; for we have the most satis- factory evidence, even the evidence of con- sciousness, that it continues permanent through 'i06 SERMON XXI. through the successive changes that befal the body in the course of this Ufe, and that •in fact it survives repeatedly the complete waste of our material frame? Why then should we suppose that the sudden bodily change which we call death exerts over it a power, of which no former bodily change indicated any trace ? The soul, simple as it is, may no doubt be annihilated by an act of the divine will ; but of such acts of an- nihilation v/e have no experience ; we have no reason to believe that they were ever ex- erted ; and therefore we can have no title to conclude that they will accompany the stroke of death. Nay, when we contemplate the course of things attentively, we may find from ana- logy, some ground to conclude that the great change of death, so far from being the destruction of the soul, is a necessary step in its progress to a more perfect existence. The death of organized beings seems to be the general principle of their renovation. All nature dies to live again. And every living thing advances, from one stage of per- fection to a higher, by changes not unlike the death of man. The desolations of win- ter SERMON XXI 407 tcr prepare in secret the renovescence of spring, and the glories of harvest. The plant does not send forth its leaves till the seed has suffered corruption in the ground ; the butterfly does not unfold its wing to the sun until the worm from which it springs has experienced a change similar to the pang of dissolution ; nor does the eagle ' mount to the skies till he has left in ruins the shell which covered and confined him. Even man himself confirms this analogy, and exhibits in the history of his past con- dition, some striking examples of the same general law. The hour of his birth, in particular, produced on his means of sub- sistence and life a change no less total than that which will be produced by the hour of his death. Yet that change, instead of ex- tinguishing the feeble spirit within him, served only to emancipate its powers, to encrease their number, and to place them in circumstances more favourable for their improvement. It is obvious then from philosophical principles that the change which happens to us at death, however formidable to the imagination and to the feelings that depend c c 4 on 408 S E 11 M O N XXI. on it, will most probably affect the body only, and that it gives us no reasonable ground to doubt the future subsistence of the soul. The soul seems to be a being of a totally different class. It is, as far we can judge, naturally incapable of dissolution. And when we still farther consider 3. The powers with which it is endowed, their excellence, and their seeming adap-- tation to a higher state of being, the pre- sumption still increases that it is destined to survive the stroke of death, and to com- plete its improvement in another scene. Of all the creatures on this earth man is evidently the most perfect. In bodily strength and agility, he is indeed inferior to many of the animal tribes ; but the powers of his mind raise him to a lofty pre-emi- nence, and enable him to exercise uncon- trolled dominion over all the inhabitants of this globe. These powers in their num- ber, in their excellence, in the celerity and precision of their exertions, and, above all, in their beautiful adjustment to each other, exhibit the most admirable specimen of contrivance and skill. Btit many of them seem destined for a state of being different from SERMON XX r. 409 from that in which we are now placed ; and they obviously require for their full evolu- tion a much longer duration than the li- mits of the present life assign to them. When we confine our vitw to the mere instincts and powers of our sensitive nature, we find them terminating in the body. They seem to be given solely for the pur- pose of securing its preservation and com- fort : and during its appointed time, they answer completely the end for which they were destined. They minister to bodily health and enjoyment : they advertise us of whatever might be hurtful to our frame; they suggest the means of removing it, and enable the most uncultivated of our race to accomplish in perfection all the ends of his animal existence. This system of powers therefore, having their end in this life, are attached to the m.ortal body : they grow with its growth, strengthen with its maturi- ty, participate in its decline, and sink with it into the grave. There are other capacities in our nature w^hich seem to be of an intermediate .class between those which link us to matter, and those which are purely spiritual. They 410 SERMON XXL aid and direct the sensitive faculties in ful- filling their destination ; and at the same time they furnish materials for the exercise and cultivation of our nobler powers. From them, however, on account of this double use, no clear inference can be drawn concerning the subject before us. They are subservient to the body and its func- tions, and therefore it may be contended that in ministring to it, they complete the purpose for which they were given. But we have a system of powers of far nobler description, which have little con- nection with the body, and which, in their cultivation, seem rather to impede and in- jure its functions than to improve them. They engage us in speculations which are foreign to its concerns ; they render us in- attentive to its calls ; they are, in many in- tances, little affected by its infirmities ; and they often advance towards their perfection in the midst of its diseases and decline. Busied for ever about an invisible order of things, they delight, in rising above this changing world, to trace the permanent laws which regulate the movements of the uni- verse, to detect those eternal and universal relations SERMON XXI. 411 relations which conceal themselves from the eye of sense, and to dwell on the contem- plation of beings that are spiritual and ever- lasting. Through such exercises they gra- dually exalt our nature ; introduce us in thought to worlds far brighter than we now behold ; and excite within us feelings, and affections, and hopes, corresponding to the glorious scenes which they disclose. To this class of powers belong that conscious- ness of inherent dignity which lifts the vir- tuous soul above sensual enjoyments, those intellectual capacities which seem fitted for endless progress in improvement ; those de- vout affections which find not here their proper object ; and all those enlivening hopes which prompt us irresistibly to look forward, and to take an interest in the con- dition and employment of future times. Now concerning this system of powers what conclusion does sound reason suggest.^ Shall we suppose that they were given merely for the purposes of a state, to which they are scarcely in any degree subservient, which is altogether unworthy of them, and which closes while they are only tending to the maturity of their strength ? Must we not 412 SERMON XXL not rather adopt the principle of judgment which, in similar cases has often guided the naturalist to a just view of the works of God ? He finds in the waters and on the earth living beings with a system of organs suited to the element which they now oc- cupy, and at the same time inclosing under it another system of organs which is of no use to them at present, but which seems fitted to qualify them for taking their sta- tion in a different element. In these cir- cumstances, which frequently occur to him, what judgment does he think him.self entit- led to form ? That these inhabitants of the waters and of the earth are only in the first stage of their existence, in a state of preparation for a higher ; that their inte- rior system of organs, protected by the in- teguments which invest it, is gradually ac- quiring the vigor requisite for its full dis- play ; and that the time is not far distant when they shall burst their coarser cover- ing, and become the free tenants of the air and of the sky. — This conclusion universal experience confirms. And why should we not apply it to explain a similar appearance in the state of man ? His present condition bears SERMON XXL 413 bears a very close resemblance to the case now mentioned, and seems indeed to be on- ly a particular instance of the same general law. On this principle therefore we arc bound to conclude that those powers of his nature, which find not their full expansion here, are the germs of a nobler being which death shall disclose, and which, in its pro- per element, shall shine herejifter in com- plete maturity and perfection. These considerations encourage us to look beyond the grave, and to regard death merely as a link in the chain of means ap- pointed to carry forward the soul to its des- tined perfection. But they furnish ground for no farther conclusion on the subject. They leave us in perfect darkness concerning the enjoyments of the future state, and their dependence on the nature of our present conduct. On these points, however, as -well as on the general doctrine of an here- after, we receive some light from review- ing 4. The present course of human things, and its frequent inconsistency with the best notions we can form of the character ot God, and of his government. The 41-4 SERMON XXI. The natural feelings of the heart give sufficient evidence that there is a difference in actions and characters with respect to their moral qualities ; that righteousness is imposed upon us as a law by the principles of our frame ; that obedience to this law merits reward ; and that the transgression of it shall be followed by punishment. Reason demonstrates that God, the great source of moral perfection, must love his own image, and honour those who honour him : and conscience proclaims, with a voice that reaches throughout the earth that, a throne is set for judgment, and that it must be well with the righteous and ill with the wicked. These feelings are themselves a com- mencement of moral retribution within us, and they lead us irresistibly to expect that the course of things without us will be ar- ranged conformably to them. But when we turn our eyes abroad, and seek to find in the events of life a scene corresponding to the an- ticipations we had formed, we are greatly dis- appointed. We see indeed sufficient indi- cations that the Almighty Governor is not totally indifferent to the conduct of his sub- 2 jects ; SERMON XXI. 415 jects ; that the general tendency of his ad- ministration is favourable to righteousness ; and that his arrangements for its support are advancing by a gradual progress towards the full attainment of their end. It is ob- vious, however, that this progress is not completed during the term of our present probation, and that in many particular instances it is altogether counteracted. We see external advantages often parcelled out with an indiscriminating hand, and time and chance happening unto all We see often that there is one event to the righteous and to the wicked ; that as is the good so is the sinner^ and he that swear eth as he that feareth an oath. Nay, we sometimes see virtue borne down, and rendered a direct source of persecution and of temporal misfortune to those who adhere to it. In these circumstances the pious man has often felt himself perplexed by the apparent injustice of the scene before him. On wit- nessing the triumphs of successful wicked- ness, in contrast with the sore depression of modest merit, he has ventured at times to accuse the partial blindness of providence. He has even felt the spirit of indignation rise 410 SERMON XXI. rise within him at the sight of great, but defeated, virtue, and shed tears of anguish on the sacred ashes of a Baptist, and of other holy martyrs, who have died for God and for their country. And did the stroke of death put a final period to the existence of these exalted spirits, were no reward reserv- ed for them hereafter — thy tears, O man, would deserve to flow. Virtue, as to them would be worse than " an empty name :" it v/ould be a direct cause of punishment with- out any possibility of recompense. The world in which thou art would be the dark abode of misrule ; and the moral principles of thy frame an inexplicable mys.- tery. But such things cannot be. They con- tradict oar best established notions respect- ing the divine character and perfections. The appearances that seem to indicate them are evidently the beginnings only of an un- finished plan for cultivating the human fa- culties. They belong to a state where vir- tue is but forming, and forming through the only means adapted to its nature, exer- cise and temptation. That state soon pas- ses away ; and there must be another, where SERMON XXL 417 where virtue shall appear in its maturity, accompanied by its natural effects ; where rewards and punishments shall be impar- tially administered, and where the ways of providence respecting it shall be complete- ly vindicated. Such, Christians, is a very brief statement of the evidence furnished by the light of nature (Concerning the future subsistence of our souls. That evidence is in many res- pects imperfect. There is none of its parts to which plausible objections have not been made ; and, even though these objections were capable of being completely removed, it rests, as you have seen, on complicated trains of reasoning, which exceed the reach of common minds, and which could never, therefore, be successfully applied to the di- rection of ordinary life. Still, however, it is of great value. Though it cannot per- haps give much confidence to hope ; yet it may serve at least to prepare the pious mind for the brighter discoveries of reve- lation ; to repress the presumption of the Infidel ; and to check vice by shewing the sinner that the fears which conscience in- spires may probably come to be awfully realized. D D The 418 SERMON XXI. The information, given to the Jews on this subject, did not add much to the evi- dence furnished by the Hght of nature. This people, indeed, were better instructed than the heathen, respecting the character of God, and the obhgations of duty, and therefore better quahfied to estimate the force of arguments, drawn from this source, respecting the future condition of the sou]. They had even some new principles of judging concerning it, laid before them in the gracious terms of the covenants made with Abraham and his posterity. And the books of their prophets contain expressions which encourage the hope of a future re- surrection. But these expressions are of ambiguous import : they may be, and often have been, interpreted as sublime, figurative predictions of the revival of temporal pros- perity to their country : and the terms of the covenants, made with the patriarchs, furnish only the materials of an argument, which was never fully understood till ex- plained by Christ, and which it was difficult to state in a form to which perplexing ob- jections might not be offered. According- ly, we find in fact that the same doubts which impeded the effect of this doctrine ^ in SERMON XXL 419 in other countries were felt by the religious men of Judea, and that, in this favoured land, there was a numerous sect who said that there is no resurrection^ neither angel nor spirit. The result then of this whole enquiry is, that, before the appearance of Christ, men had some knowledge of a future world ; but that their prospect into it was far from being clear. Clouds and shadows veiled it from their view. At every step, difficulties rose to perplex them, and nature looked earnestly for some brighter light to dissi- pate the gloom. That brighter light has shone upon the earth. The messenger of God has descended, and, by the sure word of revelation, has proclaimed that the soul does not go down with the body into the grave ; but that, when the earthly house of this tabernacle shall be dissolved^ we have a building of God, an house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. To examine the extent of the addition thus made to the light of nature — is the se- cond branch of our proposed enquiry, which will form the subject of another discourse, p d 2 SER SERMON XXII. The same Subject continued. 2. Tim. i, 10. -IVho hath abolished death and brought life and immortality to light through the gospel. W^E have already seen that the light of nature furnishes some information respect- ing a future state. The feelings of the heart lead us to anticipate a more perfect world than that in which we are now placed; the deductions of reason give ground to hope that this anticipation will not be dis- appointed ; and the principles of our mo- ral constitution suggest a confused persuasion that, in the land beyond the grave, the tri- umphs of wickedness shall cease, and the salvation of the just be established. On all these points, however, the light of reason leaves much darkness and uncertainty. The SERMON XXIL 421 The hopes of nature are counteracted and almost extinguished by its fears : and the rational arguments in favour of a future ex- istence, while they seem scarcely reconci- leable with the evidence of the senses, are in themselves difficult of comprehension, and at the best afford no information res- pecting either the employments or the dura- tion of the life to which they point. Hence, we find the wisest men in the heathen world uttering deep complaints concerning their ignorance on this subject, and going down to the grave in sad uncertainty w^heth- er any part of them was destined to escape its ravages. / am about to leave this worlds said the best moralist of antiquity, in the immediate prospect of his departure, / am about to leave this worlds and ye are to con- tinue in it ; which of us have the better part al- lotted to us God only knows ^ no man on this earth can cei'tainly tell. The hopes of a departing Jew, who had lived conformably to the prescriptions of his law, were somewhat better supported. He had more distinct information given to him concerning an invisible world, and he might have inferred from the promises D D 3 made 422 SERMON XXII. made to the Fathers, and from the declara- tions of the prophets, that man shall be ran- somed from the grave, and restored to ever- lasting life. Yet in fact these inferences seem to have been but imperfectly drawn ; for, of the two sects into which the Jews were divided, one denied altogether the doc- trine of a future state, and the other seems to have had a very erroneous conception of it. The Sadducees said that there is no re- surrection, and most of the Pharisees, ac- cording to the account of their great histo- rian, believed that the resurrection extends only to those who are free from notorious wickedness, and that it will consist merely in a transmigration of the soul into a new body. It was reserved for the Christian revela- tion to dispel the darkness which covered the grave, and to open before us a clear and certain prospect into the world beyond it. Our Saviour Jesus Christ, as we learn from the text, hath abolished death, and brought life and immortality to light by the gospel. In estimating the light which Christ has shed on this doctrine, we may consider . . I. The SERMON XXII. 423 I. The truths which he has revealed con- eerning the future world ; and II. The evidence by which he has accom- panied them. The truths which Christianity reveals con- cerning the future world are various and important. It confirms I. The hope of nature that the souls of men shall not perish at death, but continue to exist and act in a manner suited to their capacity. It informs us that when the body shall go down to the dust, the spirit will re- turn to God who gave it. It hath even given us examples of the fad, and called on us, as it were, to witness the condition of the departed. In the Gospel History, we see Moses and Elias descending from the abode of glorified spirits on high, and conversing with Jesus on the mount of Transfiguration. We see Lazarus, when he died, carried by the angels into Abraham's bosom, and the rich man, who was buried, lifting up his eyes in the torments of Hell. We hear our Redeemer comforting the penitent malefac- tor, who suffered with him on the Cross by the gracious assurance, This day shah D d 4 thou 4^4 SERMON XXII. thou be with me in paradise. And, with St John in tiie visions of heaven, we behold, under the altar, the souls of them that were slain for the testimony which they held, crying unto God for vengeance/iand exhort- ed to rest for a little season until >nheir fel- low servants also, and their brethren that should be killed as they were, should be ful- filled, ■:-■ . But the life of the soul alone is iiot suf- ficient to satisfy the longings of the human heart. Though v/e see the body after death mingling with the dust, and nature unable to give us any hope concerning it ; yet we can- not help regarding it as an essential part of ourselves, and are unwilling to resign it to everlasting destruction. We feel that, with- out it, the man would be incomplete, and incapable of executing the functions which we assign to him. With delight therefore we learn from the gospel, 2. That the body also shall in due time be redeemed from the dust of death, and reunited to its former spirit. How long the dominion of the grave shall prevail has not been revealed to us : but we have the most satisfactory information that it SERMOXXXII. 425 it shall not last for ever. Even amid the shadows of the Jewish dispensation, Daniel foresaw that ijiany of them who sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake. Christ, with far more clearness, lays before us an explicit account of this great restoration, and of the po^ver by which it shall be etfeded. jls the Father^ saith he, raiseth up the dead and quickeneth them^ even so the Son quickenetb whom he will. Verily^ verily I say unto you, the hour is coming, in which the dead shall hear the voice of the Son of God, and they that hear shall live. I am the resurrection and the life ; he that helieveth in me, though he zvere dead, yet shall he live. And the apostles, with a minuteness, like that of actual vision, de- scribe the circumstances by which this event shall be accompanied. The Lord himself, say they, shall descend from heaven zvith a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God. The dominion of dark- ness shall be moved at his approach, the dead in Christ shall 7'ise first. Then they zvhich are alive at his coming shall he changed, and they shall be caught up together in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and they shall be ever with the Lord* On 426 SERMON XXII. On this subject vain questions have often been stated, and answers as vain have some- times been given to them. Perhaps you may desire to know the mode by which the resurrection shall be effected, and with what body the dead shall come. Alas! vain, short- sighted man, wilt thou never learn to re- cognize the limits of thine own understand- ing, to know that thou hast no concern with the manner in which the divine opera- tions are performed, and to feel that the ex- tent of thy power is as nothing in compa- rison with the power of the Omnipotent ? canst thou weigh me the weight of the fire^ or measure me the blast of the wind^ or call me again the day that is past f Canst thou even tell me how the particles of thy present body were compacted together ? or what, amid the daily wastings of thy material frame, constitutes thee the same person now which thou wert in former years ? These are thine own things, and such as have grown up with thee, and if thou canst not explain them, how shouldst thou expect to be able to comprehend the way of the Highest, and to understand the things that are above the height of the heavens ? Is it not enough for thee SERMON XXII/ 427 thee, who hast never been able to fiithom any one work of the Almighty — is it not enough for thee, as in other cases, to know the fads with which this operation shall be accompanied, that the power of God hath no bound ? that he hath told thee that at the last day thy body shall come forth from the grave as much the same with the body that was deposited in it, as the grain in har- vest is the same with the seed from which it sprung ? that henceforward thy body shall be like the glorious body of Christ, spiritual, incorruptible, and immortal ? that the Sa- viour hath given thee in his own resurrec- tion, an example of what shall happen to all mankind ? and that his servant John be- held in prophetic vision the dead, small and great, standing before the throne of God, the sea having given up the dead that were in it, and death and hell having delivered up the dead that were in them, that every one of them might be judged according to his works ? These are plain declarations. They relate to events which are as intelli- gible in themselves as any of the things which thou seest around thee, and which are awfully interesting in their consequen- ces. 428 S E R M O N XXII. ces. For we learn still farther from the gospel, 3. That the resurrection shall not be a mere transient display of divine power, but an in- troduction to an immutable state of retri- bution in which the righteous and the wick- ed shall receive for ever the due recompence of their conduct. They that have done good shall come forth unto the resurrection of life ^ and they that have done evil^ unto the resurrection of damnation. They shall be se- parated one from another in thejudgmetit^ as a shepherd divideth his sheep from the goat s^ and they shall go aw'ay^ the wicked into everlasting punishment^ hut the righteous into life eternal, . This information is of invaluable impor^ tance, both in itself, and on account of the light which it reflects on the design of our present condition. We are here, my bre- thren, for the purposes, not of enjoyment chiefly, but of discipline. We have com- menced the career of an endless existence, and, by the wise ordination of our Father, it depends on the short term of this mortal life, whether that existence shall be happy or miserable for ever. For we are assured that God hath appointed a day in zvhich he zvill SERMON XXII. 429 'Will judge the zvorld in righteousness by that man whom he hath ordained ; and that in this day of the revelation of his righteous judgment, he shall render to every man according to his deeds ; to them who by a patient continuance in well doings seek for glo?y and honour and im- mortality^ eternal life ; but unto them that are contentious, and obey not the truth, but obey un- righteousness ; indigfiation and wrath, tribula- lation and anguish upon every soul of man that doeth evil. What shall be the precise nature and in- gredients of our future recompense we can- not as yet fully comprehend. The state of the world to come shall differ so essentially from what we have been accustomed to behold on earth, that the words which here serve the purposes of communication can- not be made to convey any just representa- tion of it. Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor have entered into the heart of man the things which God hath prepared either for those who obey, or for those who disobey him. The most desireable objects on earth, collected together, and embellished with every charm that fancy can bestow, could give only a faint shadow of the glory that ^liall 430 SERMON XXII. shall then be revealed. While the wicked shall be punished with everlasting destruc- tion from the presence of the Lord, and the glory of his power ; the saints, cloathed in pure incorruptible bodies which can never more decay, shall accompany their Judge to the immediate vision of God, where they shall he satisfied with his likeness^ and become as the angels that stand before his thi'one. They shall hunger no more neither thirst any more. Freed from pain and sor- row and temptation ; soothed with every delight that can captivate the understand- ing and the heart ; and advancing in end7 less progress towards the summit of virtuous perfection, their bliss shall henceforth be complete. And they shall have no cause to fear for its termination ; for they shall die no more, but reign with the Lamb for ever and ever, enlightened by the glory of God, protected by his power, and refreshed with the pure river of the water of life that flows from his throne. Such are the discoveries which the Gospel has made to us respecting the future condition of our being. As far as our faculties will admit them, and con- sidered SERMON XXII. 431 sidered merely as facts, they are clear, definite and satisfactory. The bare state- ment of them is sufficient to convince us that, in point of brightness and consis- tency, they far transcend the most enlight- ened anticipations of ancient wisdom. Let us next II. Examine the evidence on v^^hich we are called to receive these discoveries, and enquire whether the light which Christ has shed on life and immortality be as superior in this respect to the hght of nature, as in the kind of knowledge which it has con- veyed. Here it may be proper to premise that all the sources from which arguments could ever be drawn on this subject remain to the Christian in their full force. He feels the hopes of nature as intensely as any other man, and sees as clearly the indica- tions in their favour which are furnished by analogy, and by a careful consideration of the works and ways of God. Nay, in in all these respects, he enjoys an unspeak- able advantage through the juster views which have been given to him concerning I the 432 SERMON XXII. the divine perfections and government. Though the gospel had been entirely silent about the world to come, a virtuous chris- tian, in the due use of the other lights which it communicates, would have been able to look forward with increased confi- dence towards the recompence of reward. Accordingly we find in fact that even the natural arguments in support of a future existence are now freed from many difficul- ties which formerly perplexed them, and that they can be proposed with an energy and conviction of which the most enlight- ened heathen had no idea. It deserves also to be remarked that the very clearness and consistency of the accounts which Christ has given of the future state secure for them a ready ad- mission into the mind, just as the compact- ness of a philosophic theory, and a clear exposition of the facts to which it relates, recommend it to general acceptance. These accounts bear on their face indisput- able indications of his superior knowledge ; they convey distinct information on a point where the understanding had hitherto laboured under the most anxious uncertain- ty : SERMON XXII. 433 ty : and in their harmony with each other, and with the best sentiments of the heart, they possess an essential character of truth which was wanting to all former conjectures, and which, wherever it ap- pears, has powerful influence on the de- terminations of our judgment. But besides confirming in these ways, and improving the original proofs of im- mortality, the gospel has brought to its support a direct train of new and in- dependent evidence to which nature was a total stranger. It has given us an unexcep- tionable witness from heaven, the Prince of the invisible world himself, who spake what he saw, whose testimony is expUcit, and whose discoveries have removed the chief difficulties by which this doctrine was formerly opposed. I have already mentioned the substance of what has been attested by the Son of God con- cerning the future prospects of the human race ; and what has been stated leaves no doubt that the doctrine of life and immortali- ty forms a leading portion of the faith which he delivered to the saints ; and that, conse- quently, the truth of this doctrine is sup- E e ported 434 . S E R M O N XXIL ported by all the evidence which establishes the divinity of his mission. Prophecy and vision and miracle, therefore, now unite their influence with the sentiments of na- ture to support the hope of mortals, and to assure them that they shall outlive the de- solations of the grave. Nay, for the complete justification of our faith on this head, the Christian revelation has done more than announce the fact, and prove the commission of its attester. It hath removed all darkness from this part of the divine administration, by explaining di- stinctly the history of death, the manner of its introduction among men, and the means by which its power shall be finally subverted. Deaths we now know, had no place in the original constitution of the universe, and therefore it is not surprising that nature should have been puzzled by the desolation which he wrought. He was not made by God who created the generations of the world without any poison of destruction in them; but ungodly men with their works afid words called him unto them. He sprung from trans- gression, and can exist only through the existence SERMON XXII. 4S5 existence of his parent. By one maii^s sin he entered into the worlds and passed upon all men^ for that all have sinned. Whenever therefore sin shall be destroyed, death its effect must cease. Now the great end of the Christian dispensation is to destroy that work of the devil, sin; and to restore men to their original condition of innocence and purity. For this end Jesus, the Son of the most high, appeared on earth to take a- way sin by the sacrifice of himself. He bore the penalty, that was due to us, and by the merits of his obedience and death made satisfaction for the sins of the whole world, and perfected for ever them that are sanctified. There is now, therefore no condemnation to them that are in Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh, hut after the spi- rit ; for as, through the offence of one, sin- reigned unto death ; even so, through che obedience of one, grace now reignetli through righteousness unto eternal life. Christ then, it appears, has now a right to rescue his subjects from the dominion of the grave. And if he has a right to do so, what can prevent it from being carried into effect ? Is it possible to believe that he will EC 2 be 436 SERMON XXIL be unwilling to exert a privilege which he shed his blood to obtain ? or can we sup- pose that his power is unequal to the task ? Behold, O Christian, thy Redemer is the Lord of heaven and earth. All things wtre made by him ; and without him was not any thing made that was made. And can it be niore difficult for him, or does it seem even to thyself more impracticable, to collect and restore the particles of thy scattered dust, than it was to form and animate them at first ? He has innumerable means of ac- complishing his purpose, of which thou hast no knowledge, and he has already gi- ven thee many proofs of his power over the tyrant of the grave. Did he not by the voice of his prophets call back from his grasp the bodies of different men whose spirits had departed ? Did he not, while he sojourned on earth, restore to Jairus his daughter ; to the widow of Nain her beloved son; to the sisters of Lazarus the brother whom they had buried ? Did not, in the hour of his crucifixion, the graves open, and many bodies of saints which slept arise, and go into the holy city, and appear to many ? And did he not himself, after finishing I trans- SERMON XXII. 437 iransgression and sin, burst asunder the bands of death, and come forth triumphant from the grave, as the forerunner of his people, in token that the powers of hell are vanquished, that he is Lord of the dead and of the livings and that them who sleep in Jesus God will bring with him f Cease then, ye fol- lowers of that which is good, cease to doubt the promise of the world to come. Tour Redeemer liveth, and because He lives, ye shall live also, — He that raised up Christ from the dead shall also quicken your mortal bodies by his spirit that dwelleth in you. — Te shall all be made alive, but every man in his own order ; Christ the frst fruits, and afterwards they that are Christ's at his coming. In the gospel, therefore, we have not only the direct evidence of testimony, support- ing the doctrine of a future life ; we see also the obstacles to that life removed ; the power by which it shall be conferred un- veiled ; and a reason given why, under the just government of the Almighty, this hope of the righteous cannot fail to be accom- plished. The sting of death was sin, and Christ, by abolishing sin, hath destroyed him that had the power of death, and delivered £63 the?Jf 438 SERMON XXII. them who through fear of death were all their life-time subject mito bondage. How inestimable then are the benefits we derive from the gospel of Christ, even though it had communicated to us no other light, but that v/hich wc have now been contemplating ! By unbarring the gate of futurity, it has resolved some of the most anxious questions which the human under- standing had ever proposed : and the solu- tion which it gives is satisfactory in itself, consoling to the virtuous heart, and power- ful to support the cause of righteousness a- mong men. What an interest does it im- . part even to the events of this transitory life, when it represents them as the blos- soms of everlasting glory, as the means which our Father has appointed to exercise and prepare us for never-ending happiness in heaven ? With what bright gleams of comfort does it enlighten the cloud of af- fliction, and the couch of the dying ? Sor- row not as those who have no hope \for to die is gain^ and our light ajffiiction which is but for a moment worketb out for us a far more exceed- ing and eternal weight of Glory. How ani- mating is the call which it gives to virtuous exci- SERMON XXII. 439 exertion? What resistless energy does it im- part to us in our conflicts with the powers of sin ? What holy aspirations rise within us, when in the hour of temptation, or on the verge of eternity, we hear through the darkness the angel's voice proclaiming from oh high, Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from henceforth ; yea, saith the spirit, that they may restfrovi their labours, and their works do follow them? Let us therefore, Christians, listen with affection to him who speaketh to us from heaven ; and let us act henceforth as the heirs of an immortal inheritance. Though we had no better evidence concerning it than the light of nature furnishes, true wisdom would lead us to have respect to it in form- ing our scheme of conduct. To live vir- tuously with a view to it can do us no harm, though it should turn out to be only a delusion of the fancy : but if it be a reah- ty, how inexpressible must be the folly of neglecting it ! for who can lie down in de- vouring fire, or dwell with everlasting burn- ings ? Even on the slight presumptions therefore which na-ture gives, it would be our interest to act as children of the world E e 4 y^> 440 SERMON XXIT. to come. But how unspeakably is that in- terest magnified by the discoveries of the gospel ! T.lje light of the moon is now become as the light • of the sun, and the light of the sun sevenfold. We know with more certainty that we shall live hereafter, and that each of us shall receive according to his deeds, than we know what shall be the issue of any worldly project in which we can engage. The issue of such projects may be disappointed by innumerable accidents; but the word of the Lord abide th for ever, and his promise cannot fail. Let us there- fore keep ever in our view the great end of our existence. Being risen with Christ, let us set our affections, not on thet kings of the earth, but on the things which are above, where Christ sitteth on the right hand of God. Let us lay aside every weight, and the sins which so easily beset us, and let us run zvith ■patience the race that is set before us. If we advance unwearied in the path of obedience, our feet shall soon reach the borders of Im- manuel's land : we shall be admitted through the gate into the everlasting city of our God : and when Christ who is our life shall appear, we shall appear with him in glory. Amen. SER- SERMON XXIII, Revelation, xiv, 13. And I heard a voice from heaven saying unto me, JFrite, blessed are the dead iciiidi die in the Lord from henceforth ; yea, saith the spirit, that they may r^st Jrom their la hours a7ul their z^w^ks dojoliozv them. Among the many considerations by which the gospel supports our hearts under the evils of life, there is none more interest- ing and consolatory to good men, than the prospect which it opens of the world be- yond the grave. Unveiling to a certain degree the plan of providence, respecting the future condition of man, this pros- pect throws a new hght on all the events which we witness upon earth. It shews them not by themselves and unconnected ; but as parts of a great system, and as relat- ed to an endless train of consequences on our future perfection and happiness. Viewed in 442 SERMON XXIII. in this light the most formidable evils to this life assume a friendly aspect. Even death loses his terrors ; and appears as the messenger of God sent to release his ser- vants from the toils of their mortal condi- tion, and to introduce them to the un- speakable and never ending joys of their Lord. While we continue in this dark estate, our conceptions of the future glories of the just must indeed be faint and inadequate. The changes which death makes in our condition are so numerous and great, that we cannot reason with any certainty from what we experience at present to what shall be the precise nature of our state hereafter. Disencumbered of the body and its organs, and placed in a new relation to external things, our modes of perceiving, of feeling, and of acting must undergo an essential alteration, and we do not yet know what the full effect of that alteration will be. Even the gospel speaks of it as a glory that yet remains to be revealed. Our present faculties are not fitted to com- prehend its extent : our present language? cannot express the ingredients which com- pose SERMON XXIIL 443 pose it : and though we were capable of seeing it in all its brightness, the unveiled manifestation of it would not be for crea- tures like us an object of rational desire. It would raise us too ilir above the spnere in which we are called to act ; disqualify us for the duties and enjoyments of our station ; destroy that balance between good and evil which constitutes our trial ; and defeat the whole scheme of providence for the discipline and improvement of our virtue. But though it be not possible for us to comprehend fully the nature and extent of the heavenly happiness ; yet the scriptures have given us some views of it suited to our present circumstances, and admirably fitted to promote our consolation and im- provement. They assure us that the pos- session of it is attainable by every true Christian : they explain the means by which that possession may be infallibly secured : and they describe it in colours sufficient to ravish our hearts, and to in- spire us with the most ardent desires after it. All the objects which attract our ambition on earth are employed by turns to 444 SERMON XXIII. to warm our imagination, and to animate us in the pursuit of it. The saints who have finished their course with approbation are compared to kings returned from con- quest, with palms of victory in their hands, and crowns of glory on their heads, cloath- ed in the white robe of peace, seated on an everlasting throne, and enjoying a kingdom which cannot be moved. The country which they inhabit, fanned with the breath of perpetual spring, is a paradise of unceas- ing delight, and pours around them pure rivers of joy which shall never fail. En- circled with a society the most instructive and enchanting — with angels and the spi- rits of just men made perfect — with all whom they admired and loved and adored on earth, they shall behold the face of their Father in heaven, and advance in endless progression towards the attainment of his likeness. They shall hunger no more^ neither •thirst any more^ neither shall the sun light on them nor any heat ; for the lamb which is in the midst of the throne shall feed them, and shall lead them unto living fountains of waters, and God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes. And there shall be no night there^ SERMON XXIII. 445 there, for God imll be the light of it ; and they shall reign for ever and ever. This description is in many of its parts evidently figurative ; and gives us a vivid, and powerful, but a very imperfect repre- sentation of the heavenly glory. It exhibits to us things that are unseen and invisible by some analogy which they bear to things that do appear. But from the very nature of the case the analogy here must be feeble and imperfect. Our modes of enjoyment while in the body are so very different from those of a purely spiritual state, that one can be seen or represented through the other only in a very general and indistinct manner ; and therefore we should be careful not to carry the resemblance to points where it was not meant to apply. The similitudes em- ployed on this subject in scripture seem to have been intended not so much for the purpose of defining the precise nature of the heavenly happiness, as for representing its value, and the effect which it ought to have on our desires. It doth not yet appear what we shall he — what shall be the precise description of our future bliss ; but this we know, from the analogies suggested by scripture 446 SERMON XXIII. scripture, that it will be of inestimable va-^ iue, and far more worthy of our pursuit than a crown or any other object of earth- ly ambition. We may even infer from them that the happiness of the future world will be like that of the present, adapted to the capacities of our nature ; that it will still be the happiness of men, but of men improv- ed and exalted above the imperfections of our present condition, and quahfied for scenes of pure intellectual and moral enjoy- ment. This inference will lead us to a view of the future happiness of good men which is imperfect indeed and faint, but which will be more precise and correct than can be drawn from mere sensible and allegorical descriptions. We must abstract from it whatever is suited only to that part of our frame which is material and mortal ; we must exclude from it all the interruptions and limitations which the body and its frailties occasion ; and retain in our thought nothing but what belongs to the condition of a purified spirit, panting after higher attainments, freed from every ob- struction to the exercise of its powers, and in SERMON XXIII. 447 in circumstances the most favourable to their success. By this process of thought, we shall obtain a view of the heavenly hap- piness that will not be metaphorical, but real ; and which will correspond precisely with the description given of it in the text. Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord, from henceforth^ that is, from the time of their death ; yea, saith the spirit, that they may rest from their labours ; and their zvorks do fol- low them. There are two circumstances in the con- dition of the blessed, mentioned here as constituting the ingredients of their hap- piness. They rest from their labours, and their works follow them. These circum- stances we shall consider more particularly as they seem t o comprise the amount of all the direct knowledge which we ppssess con- cerning the state of departed saints. I. Those who die in the Lord, from the moment of their departure, rest from their labours, or, as it should have been translat- ed, cease from their fatigues. The word rest when applied to men is of ambiguous import. It sometimes signi- fies the total absence of all exertion — a state 44« SERMON XXIll. jtate in which the activity of our powers is suspended, and we are altogether passive to impressions from surrounding objects. At other times it signifies merely a refreshment from fatiguing labour — a state in which our powers may be in full exertion, but direct- ed towards a more attractive object, and re- lieved from the obstacles which formerly overpowered them. From this ambiguity have arisen important mistakes respecting the nature of the future happiness. Incon- sequence of it, heaven has been often re- presented as a place of indolent contem- plation— a state of passive enjoyment, where happiness flowed not from the mind itself, but from the delightful scenery by which it is surrounded — a beatific vision, something like a pleasing dream, in which, without any effort of ours, the most en- chanting objects present themselves in suc- cession to the senses, and hold the soul in a trance of rapturous amaze. But this representation, however capti- vating, suggests to us a false and delusive view of the blessedness of heaven. For though we have reason to believe that a part of our future enjoyment will arise from SERMON XXIII. 449 from iinpressions made on us by external objects ; yet it is inconsistent with all our notions of a happiness suited to human na- ture, and which is to be durable and pro- gressive, to suppose that the whole of it, or any very considerable part of it will spring from this source. Life that does not mani- fest itself by action is scarcely an object of our experience : and a happy life without action cannot even be conceived. Inacti- vity is the death of the soul, and of all its joys. Accordingly we find that all the pleasures we taste on earth have an inti- mate connection with the exercise of those mental and bodily powers which God has given us ; and that one outward situation is more favourable to happiness than another, only in the proportion in which it gives op- portunities for a more varied and uncon- strained exertion of them. Whence, for in- stance, arise the superior enjoyments of a cultivated mind, but from the superior faci- lity which it has acquired of directing its powers tovvards the objects on which they are fitted to operate ? What constitutes that perpetual satisfaction which fills the heart of him who is continually employed in do- Ff ing 430 SERMON XXIL ing good, but the successful exertion of his best talents in great and laudable pursuits ? Nay, in what consists the happiness of God himself, but in the highest activity ; in the unceasing exertion of those beneficent ener- gies which preserve, and animate, and bless his creatures, guiding them, through action, to the fulfilment of their destination, and spreading life, and health, and joy, through the universe ? These considerations may be sufficient to satisfy us that the condition of good men in the future world will be a condition of unremitting activity. With powers highly exalted above those which they possess at present, and with far nobler objects to at- tract them, they will proceed with ceaseless steps towards higher and still higher de- grees of knowledge and virtue without in- terruption and without end. — What then is that rest which is promised in scripture to the people of God, and which now sounds so sweetly to wayworn weary pilgrims upon earth ? It is, as the original words of the text plainly import, deliverance from fatigue. They shall possess powers capable of unwearied application, and be placed SERiMON XXr. 451 placed in circumstances where nothing shall occur to impede or to annoy their exertion. Here they are subject to much weakness; to frequent defeats, to lassitude and sorrow. The body with its wants and its pains de- presses their energy : the affections of the heart distract, and mislead, and embitter their exertion : the competitions of rivals, the malignity of enemies, and unforeseen difficulties in things themselves continually oppose their success, and beget weariness, disgust and disappointment. But in the future world all these obstacles shall be re- moved. Pain and sorrow and disappoint- ment shall be felt no more. In the im- measurable kingdom of God they shall find an unexhausted field for the employ- ment both of their intellectual and moral powers : they shall feel in themselves, in the scenes around them, and in the assis- tance and example of their companions, ir- resistible inducements to persevere : and God himself, with Jbe light of his countenance, will cheer them in their path of glory. Sup- portedby him they shall acquirenew strength at every successive step ; and rejoicing in hope, they shall mount up with wings as ea- F f 2 ^les : 452 SERMON XXIII. gles : they shall run and not be zvear)\ they shall walk and not faint. This view of the heavenly state, Chris- tians, should correct our notions of earthly happiness, and lead us to expect it, not from indolence and monkish contempla- tions, but from the virtuous use of the fa- culties which God has committed to us. Even amid the difficulties of the present scene, we find their vigour increasing in proportion to the employment we give them, and gradually approaching to that exemption from fatigue which constitutes the first part of the blessedness of heaven. But to this virtuous exertion, we shall be still farther animated if we consider, 2. That our works shall follow us. All the other acquisitions which we make on earth will leave us on the brink of the grave. Wealth and power and beauty shall drop from us with the body to which they were attached. Our works alone, our works of righteousness, and the virtuous disposi- tions from which they flowed, shall accom- pany us into the world of spirits to be the everlasting sources of our joy On SERMON XXIII. 453 On this head I shall enter into no con- troversy with those who maintain that works done by us can have no influence on our salvation and happiness ; nor shall I spend your time in exposing the fallacies by which they endeavour to explain away the plain decisive language of the text before us. Their doctrine, if it be any thing at bottom, but a miserable perversion of words to de- lude the conscience of those who wish to attain heaven without forsaking their sins, is so absurd in itself, and so contradictory to every line of the gospel, that it can receive no indulgence from any man whose under- standing is accessible to argument and ra- tional conviction. It will be more for your edification t6 unfold the manner in which works contribute to promote the fu- ture happiness of the good. And this effect they produce both by furnishing delightful subjects for their reflection, and by qualify- ing them for the' employments of their new abode. Even in this world much of our happi- ness flows from the approbation of our own hearts. The gratulations of a good con- science on the recollection of a well spent life 454 SERMON XXm. life are sweet to the soul, and furnish to it a powerful support under all the outward evils that assail us. These gratulations, my vir- tuous brethren, must follow you while me- mory retains her power. They will rise with your departing spirit from the bed of death, and form a part of your heavenly treasure. The good actions you performed on earth — the wretched whom you pitied and reliev- ed— the fatherless whom your protecting hand reared to industry and virtue — the re- signation which you displayed in scenes of deep affliction — your virtuous stand against the overwhelming corruption of the times — and your generous sacrifices in the cause of God and your country — all these, recalled by remembrance, will enter with you into the land of souls. They will plead for you at the throne of your Judge ; and though not strictly meritorious in themselves, though they cannot purchase heaven for you as a matter of right — they will soothe you with rapturous recollections ; and obtaining, through Christ, the recompense of reward, they will prepare for you a happier mansion in the house of your Father. But SERMON XXII. 455 But our works have a still more import- ant influence on our future happiness by qualifying us for the enjoyment of it. They have gradually formed within us the dispo- sitions and powers which are then to oper- ate unopposed, and by their exercise and the attainment of their objects, to consti- tute the chief part of the heavenly felicity. The blessed at their admission into hea- ven do not enter on a condition that is al- together new to them and untried. It has a very intimate connection with the em- ployments which occupied them on earth : It is merely a continuation of pleasures for the enjoyment of which they were here prepared ; and the transition to it is only one of those gradual steps by which they are destined to attain perfection. This earth is the place of their education. The powers which they cultivated here will be there exerted anew, in more favourable cir- cumstances, and in a wider range, in pro- portion to the extent of their improvement ; and their affections will be purified, and di- rected to objects more worthy of them. The degree, therefore, of wisdom, of vir- tue, and of capacity which they attain here, I that 45(5 SERMON XX III. that Is, the works which they have done on earth, will determine the nature and degree of the happiness which they shall receive in heaven. To use the illustration of Jesus in the parable, he whose pound hath here gained five pounds, shall there be made a ruler over five cities, and he whose pound gained ten, shall rule over ten cities. Separate not therefore. Christians, in your conception, things which are soindissolu- bly connected as this world and the next. Expect to reap nothing there, but what you have sown here. Regard the devout and virtuous pleasures for which you now ac- • quire a relish as the elements of your future bliss; and the victories which you now gain over your passions and over the world, as the gems which shall adorn your crown of glory. God will give to every man accord- ing as his work has been. To them who by a patient continuance in well doifig^ seek for glory and honour and immortality^ he will give eternal life ; and they who have been most distinguished by acts of humility and bene- volence to their brethren — (Christ himself has said it) they who have humbled them- selves as little children, and become as the servants SERMON XXIIL 457 servants of all, will be the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. These considerations exhibit, in a strik- ing light, the awful importance of this world and its employments. The scene in which you now act furnishes the exercises by which your faculties are to be sharpen- ed and prepared for the services of immor- tality. In this view nothing which you do, or which you neglect, can be to you a matter of indifference. It is intimately connected with futurity, and has an in- fluence more immediate or more remote on the final improvement or degradation of your nature. It is the bud which bears in its bosom either the wholesome or the poisonous fruit which future events will cherish to maturity for the life or the death of your souls. Let me therefore beseech you. Christians, to keep ever in your view the final result of things ; and whether you engage in more solemn, or more ordinary occupations — whether you take your sta- tion at the table of your Lord, or pursue the business of your usual calling, to re- collect that your present action may in it- self, or by its consequences, involve the G g decision 458 SERMON XXIII. decision of your everlasting fate. Under this impression, every event of your life will assume a new and more edifying aspect. The station which you occupy will appear the station assigned to you by the wisdom of heaven as the best fitted for the discipline of your talents. The afflic- tion which chastens you for your profit will be welcomed as the messenger of your Father's love : the sacrifice required by virtue will seem light when viewed through the recompense of reward : and even the valley of the shadow of death will be re- garded as the passage to your native home. , You will feel on entering it the consola- tions of a good conscience : the staff of God will support you amid its terrors : and at its termination you will see written these animating words ; Blessed are the dead that die in the Lordy from henceforth ; yea^ satth the spirit^ that they may rest from their labours^ and their works do follow them. Amen. FINIS. C. STEWART, FR'^TIER, EDINBURGH. X3 ^^ 4^ ,^^l