%-. / 4:- ..■'■H^-.^i ftc--^- ^X a> J^J^* 4 "/i'^.'^ SERMONS BY THE REV. J. GRANT, M.A, S. C^oiNSfcLf Printer, Little Queeo Street* Louioa. SERMONS; BY THE REV. J. GRANT, M. A, OF ST. JOHN'S COLLEGE, OXFORD) .roPMEELY MINISTER OF LATCHFORD, CHESHIRE ; LATE CURATE QF THE PARISHES or 5r. PANCRJS AND HORNSEY, MIDDLESEX. LONDON: PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR} AKD SOLD BY HATCHARD, PICCADILLY J ROIINSON, LEKDS; HADDOCK, WARniNGTONj AND COCKEBj ORMSKIRK. 1812. TO THP RIGHT REVEREND WILLIAM HENRY MAJENDIE, LORD BISHOP OF BANGOR. My Lord, I AM happy in being permitted to present this Volume of Discourses to that esteemed individual under v^hose eye my viev^'S of professional usefulness w^ere first unfolded and encouraged. May I hope that your Lordship will receive it as a slight memorial of gratitude for the many marks of attention manifested in the Diocese of Chester towards Your Lordship's Most respectful and dutiful servant, JOHNSON GRANT. London, June 1812. SUBSCRIBERS. A Alderson, Rev, J. Aston^ near Rotherhaua Alderson, Rev. J. Hornby, Catterick Arden, Mrs., Leases, near Northallertoo Alexander, , Esq. Kentish Towu Aspinwall, Mrs. Ormskirk B The Lord Bishop of Bangor, 2 Copies The Lord Bishop of St. David's, 5 Copieg The Lord Bishop of Killala, 10 Copies » The Lord Bishop of Durham The Lord Bishop of Chichester * The Right Hon. the Earl of Balcarres The Right Hon. the Countess of Balcarres Block, , Esq. Kentish Towu, 4 Copiet Block, S. Esq. Ditto Block, W. Esq. Ditto Borrowes, Robert, Esq. 2 Copies Boyer, R. Esq. Ormskirk Bourne, Rev. Richard, Fingal, Bedale Burnet, Mrs. T. Belmont Street, Aberdeen Buckner, Miss, Chichester Blackburn, Miss, Leeds Bootle, E. W. Esq. Latham Hall, Lancashire, 2 Copi^ Brown, Rev. Dr. Edinburgh Viil SUBSCRIBERS. Brown, Mrs. Edinburgh Bainbrigge, Miss, Headingly, Leeds Boswell, Miss, London Boniface, Mrs. Kentish Town Bush, , Esq. Muswell Hill, Homsey Burrows, Mrs. Ormskirk Bicknell, Charles, Esq. Spring Garden* Bramwell, Mrs. Ormskirk Bate, Mrs. Warrington Baldwin, Mrs. St. Helen, Lancashire Borrodale, Rev. T. Warrington Brown, Mrs. James, Aberdeen Black, Colonel, Aberdeen Hight Hon. Lady Charlotte Campbell Clarke, John Calvert, Esq. Queen Square, ^ Copk* Campbell, Mr. of Shawfield Campbell, Miss, Ditto Campbell, Miss M. Ditto Campbell, William, Esq. Ditto Conyngham, Wiiliam, Esq. Gowcr Street: Churton, Joshua, Esq. St. Helen Clare, John, Esq. Sankey Cox, , Esq. Ardleigh Park, ]£sse.\ Cocker, Mr. Richard, Ormskjrk Chorner, , Esq. Kentish Town Con\ngham, Mrs. Brouglitou Park Campbell, Mrs. Ardiieaves, 41, George Street, Edinburgl^ Crighlou, Colonel Cngbton, Mrs. Cliaiidlcr, , Esq. 6, York Place, Kentish TPWJH SUBSCRIBERS. ^ Dutton, Peter, Esq. Warrington, 2 Copies Dakin, Mrs. Warrington Doyne, Philip, Esq. Dawson, Major, Bridlington Dawson, Mrs. Ditto Dawson, — -, Esq. York Doeg, ■, Esq. Bridlington Dods worth. Rev. Dr. Thornton Hall, Bedale, Yorksliire Douglass, G. Esq. Tilquilly Duncan, Dr. Rosemount Duncan, Mrs. Ditto Douglass, f Esq. Inchmarlie E Evelyn, Lyndon, Esq. M. P. York Place, Baker Street Evvbank, Rev. Andrew, Londesborough, Yorkshire Elsby, Rev. Henry, Bamestoue, near Bedale F Francis, Mrs. Kentish Town, £ Copies Formby, Rev. Richard, Liverpool Ford, Rev. G. North Meols Forbes, John, Esq. Ely Place, Holborn Fuller, , Esq. Hornsey Eraser, Miss, Inveralichie, Aberdeen G Guildford, Right Hon. Countess of Grant, Sir Archibald, Monymusk, 3 Copies Grant, Lady, Ditto Grant, Dowager Lady, Ditto A |C SUBSCRIBERS, Grant, Sir William, Master of the RoIIf Grant, Miss, Malvern Wells Grant, Mrs. Kilgraston Grant, Rev. James Francis, W^rabness, Essex Grant, Mrs. Ditto Grant, Lieut, Col. 70th Regiment Grant, Colonel, Moyhall Grant, Mrs. D. Fores Glaister, Rev. William, Kirkby Heatham, Bedale Gray, , Esq. Somerset House Gosnell, Mr. Little Queen Street, t Copies Green, M. T. Ormskirk GatelifFe, Mrs. Leeds Good, Miss, Leed» Gore, Mr. Henry, Ormskiri: Glover, Miss, Liverpool Gwyllim, Richard, Esq. Bewsy Greenall, P. Esq. St. Helen, Q Copies Greenall, W. Esq. St. Helen Greenall, Edward, Esq. Wilderspool, WarringtoD Greenall, Mrs. Ditto Greenall, Tliomas, Esq. Ditto Greenall, Edward, Esq. Ditto, jun. Greenall, Peter, Ditto Greenall, John, Ditto Greenall, Richard, Ditto Greenall, Gilbert, Ditto Greenall, Miss, Ditto Greenall, Miss Mary, Ditto H Right Hon. the Countess of Hyndford, 4 Copies Higginson, Joseph, Esq. Oakfield, near Hornsey, 4 Copies Harrison, Thomas, Esq. Kentish Town, 4 Copies SUBSCRIBERS. XI Haddock, John, Esq. Wairiiigtoii, 10 Copies Harrison, Rev. Joseph, Great Oakley, Essex Hesketh, Mrs. Ormskirk Hevvson, Rev. Mr. Ormskirk Halsall, Mrs. Ditto Hunter, Mrs. Phoenix Street, Aberdeen Henby, Miss Hawarth, L. Esq. Bolton, Lancashire Hope Weir, J. H. Esq. Craigie Hall Hamilton, Colonel, Cheateriield Street Houghton, T. Esq. Ormskirk Higgins, — , Esq. Kentish Town J James, , Esq. St. Andrew's Court, Holborn Jackson, Miss, Kentish Town Jeflferson, Rev. Jos. Rector of Weely, Essex Jones, Mrs. Highgate Grove K Keene, Miss, Charles Street, Berkeley Square Keyte, Rev. Mr. Runcorn, Cheshire Kenrick, James, M. D. Warrington Kenrick, Mrs. Ditto Kershaw, ■, Esq. Ormskirk Kirshaw, Miss, Leeds Kay, Mrs. Warrington L His Grace the Duke of Leeds Her Grace the Duchess of Leeds Leslie, Sir John, Bart. Literary Society, Bedale, Yorkshire Lamont, Miss, Knockdor a2 Xll SUBSCRIBERS. Leech, Mrs. Mary, Ormskirk Layton, Miss, Kentish Town Lister, Rev. J. Gargrave, Yorkshire Linzee, Rev. Edward, Shrewsbury Lowes, Captain, Edinburgh Lowes, Miss, Ditto Leslie, Mrs. Edinburgh Lee, Miss, Warrington Litton, John, Esq. Ditto Lloyd, Rev. Edward, Fairfield Lyon, Thomas, Esq. Warrington Lumsden, Mrs. Belkelney M Sir John Macgregor Murray Master, Rev. Stensham, Chorley Master, Rev. Edward Monson, Rev. J. Bedale Morehead, Rev. Robert, Edinburgh Myers, Rev. Mr. Halsall M'Donald, Alexander, Esq. Broad Street Buildings Molyneux, Anthony, Esq. Newshani; Liverpool Molyneux, Mrs. Ormskirk Morgan, James, Esq. Mason, Mrs. Ormskirk M'Bean, Mrs. Bridlington Masoii, !Mr. Tliomas, OrmskirH M'Kenzie, Mrs. A, Edinburgh M'Kenzie, Colin, Esq. Edinburgh N Sir John Newport, M. P. Loodoa Nisbctt, .. Esq. DirletOH Isisbett, Mis. Ditto SUBSCRIBERS. XIU Nicholson, Lucas, Esq. Leeds, 2 Copies Nicholson, Nicholas, Esq. Ditto Nicholson, Miss, Ditto Nicholson, Mrs. Warrington Newman, Rev. Thomas, Little Bromley, Essex Noble, — , Esq. Streatham, Surrey O Owen, , Esq. Kentish Town Oridge, James, Esq. Marybone Street, 2 Copies P Pryce, Rev. Charles, St. Andrew's, Holborn Porteus, Mrs. Queen Street, May Fair Pickmore, John, Esq, Warrington, € Copies Page, Charles, Esq. Hornsey Park, James Allan, Esq. Lincoln's Inn Fields Potter, Mr. Henry, Titherley, Salisbury R Randall, William, Esq. Kentish Town, 2 Copies Randall, Mr. Samuel, Fleet Street Randall, Mr. Robert, Ditto Roberts, Rev. John Cramer Riddell, Rey. J . F. London Rudd, Rev. Dr. Fall Sutton, Yorkshire Rollo, Capt. Edinburgh Rowland, Mrs. Woodburn, Scotland Jlobson, James, Esq. Bedale Ross, Richard Lowthian Ross, Esq, S Society of St. David*s, 30 Copies Suttie, L^dy, Edinburgh A3 XIV SUBSCRIBERS. Street, Rev. George, Langholm Street, Charles, Esq. Lincohi's Inn Street, James, Esq. Woodford, Essex Smith, Rev. George, Bridlington Spofforth, Rev. Ralph, Hov^den, Yorkshire Scott, Rev. Thomas, Little Oakley, Essex Sheepshanks, John, Esq. Leeds Sheepshanks, Thomas, Esq. Ditto Sheepshanks, Miss, Ditto Sheepshanks, Miss Susan, Ditto Stones, Wiliiam, Esq. Kentish Town, 2 Copies Stones, Benson, Esq. Chandos Street St. John, Henry, Esq. Homsey Sherlock, Mrs. Ormskiik Strafford, ■ -, Esq. Hornsey Segar, Miss, Ormskirk Sherratt, , Esq. Warrmgton Stubbs, Mrs. Ditto Smith, John, Esq. Ditto Skene, Mrs. Banff Sharpies, Mr. Ormskirk Scott, Miss M. Edinburgh Scholfield, Mrs. sen. Howden Spofforth, Robert, jun. Esq. Ditto Sandys, Mr. Kentish Town Skeltou, J. H. Esq. Chandos Street T Turing, Mrs. Nottingham Place V Vanbrugh, Rev. G. Great Aughton, near Ormskirk Vaudry, Rev. G. M. A. Warrington SUBSCRIBERS. XV Vepont, Rev. John, Langton-upon-Swale, Northallerton Vandercom, J. T. Esq. Bush Lane, Cannon Street W Right Hon. Countess of Wemyss and March Waddilove, Rev. Dr. Dean of Rippon Whittingham, , Esq. Kentish Town, 3 Copies Webber, Daniel, Esq. Waring, — -, Esq. Ormskirk Woodcock, Miss, Warrington Woodcock, Miss Susan, Ditto Wagstaff, W, Esq. Ditto Williams, Mrs. Ditto Walker, Ard, Esq. Leeds ^ Wright, Harvey, Esq. Ormskirk Wood, Miss, Kentish Town Wilding, Rev, J. F. Cheam School Y Young, William, Esq. Shadocksley, Aberdeeu A4 PREFACE. Three reasons have induced me to add the following Discourses to the vast number of Sermons akeady before the public: — a hope of their being sei'viceable beyond the sphere ^vhere they were first delivered; — the solicita- tion of respectable friends ; — and tlie view of enabling myself to complete the publication of the History of the English Church. They will, I am inclined to be confident, prove useful to pious persons, in the hours of solitary devo* tion ; and to masters of families, who may deem them worthy of being read to their households on Sunday evenings. As I cannot, however, divest myself entirely of concern, with respect to their reception in the world, where they will necessarily under- go an examination as compositions, — I must request the general rea.der (should any sucl| XVIU PREFACE. peruse them) to recollect, that they were written for mixed congregations. — When this is held in view, I need not much dread the ordeal : — ^for if it be considered, that, in ac- commodation to such an auditory, the language of an address should be sufficiently polished to chain the attention of the more refined, yet sufficiently siniple to be intelligible to the illi- terate ; — and that in matter it should be distin- guished by substance and solidity, without plunging into depths, or running into laby- rinths, where the humblest understanding is incapable of following; — it will, I presume, b^ owned, that these Discourses, whatever may bp their defects, could not be widely different from what they are, without ceasing to be adapted to their proper purpose. I have felt myself pledged, by a particular circumstance, which cannot be publicly men- tioned with strict propriety, to send forth these Sermons, exactly as they were delivered, in the method of direct address :— which J hope will apologize for the frequent intersper- sion of such short conciliatory phrases, as )verQ PREFACE. XJ?^ uecessary to abate the appearance of impera- tiveness, attached .to that mode of instruction. All orthodox and useful preaching must, necessarily, consist, in great measure, of com- mon places: for sacred instruction, drawing its matter from the Bible and the human breast, will ratlier impart recollections, than discoveries : and the chief ait apd only novelty in the composition of a sermon, will be the application of improvements in arrangement and in style to materials with which most well- educated and reflective minds are already fami- liarly acquainted.— The meats are precisely the same, as they were wont to be : — various combi- nations of " milk" for some, and of '' stronger food" for others :— we only profess to alter the distribution of the courses, and the proportion of .the ingredients;-— while we add here and there a little garnishing, and a reasonable ad- mixture of sweets or spiceries, to stimulate, without spoiling, the jaded appetite. Where all have vied in befriending me, it will be almost invidious to particularize :— yet XX PREFACE. I should reproach myself did I fail to express my warmest acknowledgments to the estimable Bishops of St. David's and Killala, for the very liberal assistance they have given to my vo- lume. Whether, in the present instance, they have advanced a new claim to their sreneral cha- racter, as patrons of struggling merit, and en- couragers of whatever is good; — whether, in common with other friends, they have acted serviceably, towards the religious part of the community, I have not yet the means of ascer- taining ; for that man ventures on a hazardous experiment who presumes, that addresses, which have excited interest, and produced no incon-? siderable impression when delivered from the pulpit,— will pass in print, with similar effects, under the cold eye of patient and severe criticism^ J. a London, 42, Edgeware Road, June 2Qihj 1812. ERRATUM. In the note, p. f7i, omit, " of Life,'-* CONTENTS SERMON I.— Page i. MOTIVES TO DUTY. My meat is to do the mil of Him that sent me^ and t^ finish ki$ work* John, iv. S4. SERMON IL— Page 21. ON EXPERIENCE. Tea, and aAy, even of yourselves, judge ye not what ^ right? Luke, xii. 5f, SERMON III.— Page S8. ON CULTIVATING A SERIOUS FRAME OF MIND. Pass the time of your sojourning here in fear* 1 Pet. i. part of ver. 17. SERMON IV.— Page 57. CHRISTIAN PATRIOTISM.—A FAST SERMON. Peace be within thy zcalls, and prosperity mtliin thy palaces: for my brethren and companions^ sake, I will now say, Peace be within thee. Because of the house of the Lord our God, J will seek to do thee good. Psalm cxxii. 7, B, 9- XXll CONTENTS, SERMON v.— Page 8;. ON A DEFECTIVE SERVICE OF GOD. Yet lackest thou one thing. Luke, xviii. part of ver. 22. SERMON YL— Page loO. THE CHRISTIAN RACE. So run, that ye may obtain. 1 Cor. ix. latter part of ver. %4. SERMON VII.— Page 124. ON THE RIGHT GOVERNMENT OF THOUGHT. Search me, God, and know my heart; try me, and know my thoughts. Psalm cxxxix. 23. SERMON Vlll.-Page i42. THE FALL OF THE LEAF.— A SERMON FOR THE BEGINNING OF WINTER. We all do fade as a leaf. Isaiah, Ixiv. part of ver. 6. SERMON IX.— Page 150. ON GRADATIONS IN FUTURE HAPPINESS OR MISERY. j4nd the dead were Judged out of those things which were zcritten in the hooks, according to their works. Rev. XX. part of ver. 12. SERMON X.—Page 174. ON THE ORIGIN AND PREVALENCE OF EVIL. I form the light and create darkness: . I make peace and create evil : I, the Lord, do all these things, Isaiah^ :dv. 7. CONTENTS. XKlil SERMON XL-Page 199. ON THE SPIRITUAL DANGERS OF THE METROPOLIS. Day and night they go about upon the walls thereof: mischief also and sorrow arc in the midst of it. Wick- edness is in the midst thereof; deceit and guile depart fiot from her streets. Psalm Iv. 10, 11. SERMON Xll.—Page 22o. ON RETIRING FROM BUSINESS. Let thy servant, I pray thee, turn back again, that I may die in mine ozcn city, and be buried in the grave of my father and my mother, 2 Sam. xix. 37, part 1st. SERMON Xlll.-Page 242. ON THE CONDUCT PROPER UNDER FANCIED OR REAL WRONGS. Dearly beloved, avenge not yourselves, but rather give place unto wrath. Rom. xii. part of ver. ] 9. SERMON XI\^.-~Page 2O0. ON HONOURING AND VISITING THE GRAVES OF OUR FRIENDS. fVhy seek ye the living among the dead? Luke, xxiv. latter part of ver. 5. SERMON XV.— Page 279. ON READING. Many of them also which used curious arts brought their books together, and burned them before all men ; and they counted the price of them, and found them ffty thousand pieces of silver, 4cts, xix. 19. XXtV CONTENTS. SERMON XVI.— Page 308. ON DESPAIR. He heahth the broken in hearty and hindeth up theit zconnds. Psalm cxlvii. 3. SERMON XVII.-Page 330. FOR AN INFIRMARY. jind this corr^mandment zee hate from Him, that he wh0 loveth God J love his brother also. 1 John, iv. 21- SERMON XVIIL— Page 351. ON MINISTERING SPIRITS. Bless the Lord, ye his angels, that excel in strength, that^ do his commandments. Psalm ciii. 20. SERMON XIX.— Page 371. THE SUCCESSION OF GENERATIONS. FOR A NEW YEAR. One generation passeth azcay, and another generation cometh. Eecles. i. part of vef. 4. SERMON XX. Page 3cjo. THE CHAIN OF THE DOCTRINES. A FAREWELL SERMON. 'But it is good to be zealously affected, always, in cL good tliuig; and not only Ziehen I am present zvith you^ GaJ. iv. 18. SERMONS SERMON I. MOTIVES TO DUTY. JOHN, CHAP. IV. VERSE 34. Mij meat is to do the will of Him that sent me, and to finish his work. Scripture represents the whole animate and inanimate creation, as made to accomplish the designs, and to promote the glory, of God. Accordingly, we behold all things around us obeying his will, and fulfilling the ends of their being. The sun and moon, and all the heavenly orbs, praise their Almighty Maker, by observ- ing their appointed courses. The fire, the -(^now, the stormy wind, fulfil his sovereign word. Beasts and cattle, fish and feathered fowl, mountains and fruitful trees, all respec- tively and invariably accomplish the wisQ inten- tions of the Creator^. But when ^v^e turn our eyes to Man, what an exception do we discover to this general con- •* Psalm cxlvili, Z SER^fON I. formity unto the will of the universal Parent! How often do we observe this beings who boasts of his reason, at once assuming the sceptre over the lower creation, and degrading himself beneath it! How often do we behold him, bv criminal negligence, how often by more cri- minal activity, thwarting the views of Heaven, deranging the laws of the universe, and be- coming a fatal source of confusion among the harmonious works of God I This want of conformity to the general obe- dience paid by created beings to the Almighty Governor, may be traced to that principle which exalts us above the rest of nature, our superiority in freedom of will. Man is, and was designed by the Almighty to be, a moral agent. The obedience required from hiai was appointed to proceed, not from blind instinct, or mechanical impulse, but from motives ad- dressed to his reason and conscience; — motives, which, as a free agent, he may, nevertheless, resist. While required to love and to seek that which is good, he is possessed of all the power of following what is evil; that the nature of his conduct may be determined by a choice, an op- tion, a voluntary preference. He is, in a word, placed in a state of proba- tion : and it is difficult to form any conception of MOTIVES TO DUTY. ^S such a state, without some liberty of yielding obedience to proposed laws, or of acting in violation of them. — Hence the same tonp-ue that should bless, may curse : — the same hand may wield the instrument of aggressive destruc- tion, that ought to hold forth relief to a fellow- creature : — the feet may be swift in run- ning to shed blood, which are formed to go on errands of merc}^ : — and the intellect, bestowed for the sacred purpose of ministering to truth, to utility, and to improvement, may be ren- dered subservient to artful devices; to the wiles of sophistry, and the plottings of depravity. In that trial, to which the obedience of our great ancestor Adam was subjected, we behold a correct representation of our own proba- tionary condition. A certain commandment \vas given to him in Paradise : life was promised to his observance of that commandment, and death denounced against transgression. Thus the love of life and the fear of death on the one hand, and the allurements of the forbidden fruit on the other, were the opposite considera- tions which acted on his intellect, and pleaded before his choice. — Transgression of every kind is OUR forbidden fruit. A variety of arguments for refraining from it are laid before us : and between these arguments, and the temptations from which they dissuade us, our free choice^ B 2 4 SERMON i. incited and aided, no doubt, but not forced, by divine grace, has to decide. Circumstanced tlien as we are, having to work out our own salvation, by rightly using our rea- son, and by availing ourselves of the help so gra* ciously tendered, it highly behoves us to review these arguments in favour of obedience to the divine laws, to gather them together, to method- ize them, and to treasure them up in our remem- brance ; that their collected and united influ- ence may serve, under celestial grace, to coun- teract our tendency to evil, to defeat the assaults of Satan, to recommend the wisdom of holi- ness, and to guide us in the way everlasting. — By such a retrospect we shall, much to our ad- vantage, epitomize the elements of an upright life, draw into a narrow compass the substance of many discourses, and lay a deep foundation of Christian principle, on which the extensive and ornamental superstructure of Christian con- duct may easily be raised. The arguments for obedience seem capable of being conveniently arranged under four general heads : — motives of duty, motives of love, mo- tives of honour and shame, and motives of self-interest. MOTIVES TO DUTY. 1. We are deterred from a sinful, and al- lured to a righteous course of conduct, by mo- tives of duty to God. He liath made us, in Lis wisdom, to answer certain purposes of uti- lity and beneficence; and nearly all divines and moralists have agreed, that, even had we nothing to dread from his justice, or to expect from his favour, it would be fitting for us, as beings created with design, to perform the part allotted to us in the universe. Wheels of a great machine, we ought to move in exact obe- dience to the wise intention of the artist, that the whole work may proceed without disturb- ance. The subject is supposed to owe a certain allegiance to his sovereign ; the child, an affec- tion to his parent, exclusively as a point of duty, and wholly apart from every considera- tion of his deriving benefit in return. Much more then ought this loyalty and filial piety to be manifested by us, servants and sons, towards God — the King of Kings, and the great Father of the human race. 2. But, as the submission of the heart is far more delightful than the service of blind sub- jection, we are, secondly, invited into the path of obedience, by a highly interesting class of inducements, under tlie head of Motives of Love, — Revelation, by describing the perfec- tions of the divine nature, holds it up as tlie S 3 O SERMON I. most worthy, the most proper object of bve. For if the possession of goud quahties excites our esteem for many among* our imperfect fel- low-creatures, surely a display of the best qua- lities, and of these in their greatest amplitude and excellence, should have power to raise our warmest affections towards God. Now we know, and ought to remember, that an imita- tion of these perfections is the proof which he requires of our sincerity in admiring and adoring them. Tf ye love me, keep my com-. mandments^. — Be ye perfect, even as your Father is perfect f- With increased force must this motive to holi- ness operate, when we contemplate the exertion of the divine perfections in our behalf. How- numerous tlie general bounties of Providence, which, because they are unceasingly enjoyed (let us bkish to recollect), vve receive without reflecting duly on their origin — the light of the sun, the beauty of nature, the fruitfulness of seasons — our civil liberty, our reformed religion; peace and security in our possessions and dwell- ings, protection an^^i preservation from day to day, — but above ail, those inestimable gifts of divine love, the means of grace it hath multiplied ai'ound us, and the hopes it hath graciously opened m r'jdemption, of immortal felicity and ^ John, xiv. 15, I Matt. v. 48. , MOTIVES TO DUTY. 7 glory ! Need I here advert to innumerable other blessmgs, mingled in the particular lot of many? Let me ask these too heedless favourites of Heaven, how large a variety of private mercies it has been theirs, more or less, to enjoy? Health, education, virtuous parents, the good- will of their bretliren, prosperity in their un- dertakings, satisfaction in their families, con- venient accommodation, steady and upright friends, — has not a participation of all or the greater number of these advantages greatly sweetened unto them the cup of life? Now, by the solemn voice of revealed religion, we are instructed to consider all these enjoyments as issuing from our Almighty Father. To the same Being alone it is owing, that in many past seasons our lives have been spared, and our out- ward peace of condition preserved, when tres- passes have been committed by us, and not re- pented of — How good, and how kind a Power is this! How shall we sufficiently express our gratitude, for these displays of his unmerited love ? What shall we render unto the Lord for all his mercies*? — Can we wound the bounteous hand which blesses — which protects, and sup- ports, and saves? Can our hearts repay such benevolence with rebellion ; with any return but that cheerful service which proceeds from a responsive affection ? * Psalm cxvi. 12, b4 o SERMOX I. Still more amiable will the Father of good appear, when we next reflect, that every com- mandment which he imposes is designed, and tends, to promote our own welfare. He enjoins not any unmeaning penance. He prescribes to us no restriction of any kind, except in cases wherein obedience conduces, more than trans- gression would conduce, to our good. To God, indeed, the fountain of blessedness, no acqui- sition of happiness can, it is evident, be de- rived, from our compliance with his w^ill. He thus addresses the human race, — " Worship me, that ye may improve your better dispositions; that ye may cherish your inward seriousness, and call down a blessing on your heads. Fulfil my laws, and perform a work, which prudence W'Ould dictate, w^ere there no supreme Governor to demand it." — Must we not love, and cheer- fully obey the Power who hath sent us forth upon so free a service ; who hath thus directed us to walk in paths, that are, all of them, paths» of pleasantness and peace? "Well may we say, that to his goodness there are no bounds ; since he hath yet further ap- proved himself as deserving the best obedience of love, in having so formed his laws, that a faithful compliance with them is not more con- ducive to onr own advantage, than to the welfare of our fellow-creatures. If a system of laws were to be framed by man, foi' promoting the greatest MOTIVES TO DtJTY. 9 possible good to his species, they would be only a transcript of the Christian precepts. Love is the €?id of the commaudnwnt'^. In fulfilling our sacred obligations to God, we are per- forming essential service to our brethren; and pursuing the conduct which has been pre- scribed by human laws for the preservation of social order, or by usages, for the promotion of harmony in civilized life. We are conduct- ing ourselves in the world as loyal subjects, useful citizens, peaceable neighbours, steady friends. We are contributing our mite towards the prosperity of the community, in our re- spective relations, as masters or servants, pa- rents or children, brethren or sisters, husbands or wives ; as visiting (a great part of true and undefiled religion) the fatherless and the widows in their affliction; as the benevolent bes towers, or the grateful receivers, of kindness. In the- goodness, then, which, after having combined our duty with our happiness, has identified both with our utility, have we not a fresh incite* ment to love and to praise the Lord, and to serve him with the best affections of out hearts ? 3. The inducements to do the will of Him that sent us, and to finish his work, which next de* ^land our notice, address themselves to our ^ 1 Tim. i. |; 10 SERMON I. sense of honour and shame. Highly honour- able is the office to which we are called, of act- ing as the servants of God ; of working in con- cert Avith the holy angels, Avho are ministers of his will for good; and of resembling the Ruler of the universe himself, in his displays of use- fulness and beneficence. Our sense of honour must likewise derive no trifling satisfaction from reflecting, that we are alive to the beauty of holiness; that our moral perceptions are delicate ; that we disdain an un- worthy action; and that, although very frail and far from perfection, yet in our principles, and in the general tenour of our conduct, we humbly possess our own approbation, and have not for- feited the esteem of our fellow-men. Sinfulness, on the other hand, comprises whatever we are accustomed to regard as base and shameful in self-degradation, in imbecility, and in ins:ratitude. It is a voluntarv deo'rada- tion of the dignity of our nature. Most justly does Christianity describe the transgressor, as living in a state of thraldom. The ambitious, the covetous, the voluptuous, are severally en- chained, and enslaved to their ruling passions. Whosoever ccnimitteth sin, of any description, ihe same is the servant of his sin *. To him in vain does the Gospel of salvation propose * John, viii. 34. MOTIVES TO DUTY. 11 high hopes, and an honourable adoption. In vain does it invite him to emancipate him- self from his unworthy bondage; to assert his second birth-right — the liberty of the sons of God. He loves to grovel in the land of his captivity, and feels no noble aspiration after freedom. The flesh-pots of Egypt have recon^ ciled him to the ignominy of its fetters. Not less degrriding does disobedience appear, when it is considered as joining the par'^y of the adversaries of Heaven, leaguing in con- spiracy with the devil and his angels, and labouring to establish their kingdom of dark- ness. A conduct so humbling is still further dis- honourable, as it indicates instability and weak- ness. Can want of fortitude, can feebleness, be more strikingly evinced, than m a deliberate violation of our baptismal vow? a rebellion against the dictates of conscience ; an opposi- tion to the clearest conviction of reason; and (if we have ever sought, in devotional exercises, the divine favour or forgiveness) a forfeiture of all those solemn pledges of obedience, \vhich we had brought to the footstool of the Eternal? Undutiful behaviour, thus degrading and weak, finally consummates its shamefulness in 1*! SERMON I. its ingratitude. To live in transgression is to set at nought all the good whicli the Father of Mercies hath wrought out for his people; to trample on the bounties of his providence ; to make light of all his spiritual dispensations in our behalf; to mock his holy Prophets ; to reject the message of his Apostles ; to spill the blood of his martyrs ; to frustrate all his care and good- ness, in graciously sending abroad the Gospel into our lands, and addressing it to our under- standings — in a word, to crucify the Lord Jesus afresh, and to do despite unto the Spirit of Grace. Setting aside, for a moment, the ex- treme danger of this conduct, seems it not deserving of being shunned, on account of its unworthiness? What epithet has society in all ag:es considered as more diso-raceful than that of THANKLESS ? How little, ou the whole, must any individual appear in his own eyes, who finds himself capable of acting a part at once so mean, so weak, and so insensible ? 4. Self-inio^est, the great spring of human conduct, has not been overlooked by reason and revelation, in proposing to us motives for doing the will of Him that sent us, and for finishing his work of duty, of love, and of ho- nour. It only remains then, that we should now .superadd to the refined persuasives already men- tioned, whatever forcible inducements are found MOTIVES TO I>IlTr. \3 to address themselves to this most powerful and all-ruling principle. Now, wnth respect to our PRESENT interest, it is proverbially remarked, that temperance is health ; that industry is com- petence ; that exertion is exhilaration ; that in- tegrity is the wisest policy, and that content^ ment is true philosophy : — that to forgive, is to be at peace with man ; to be charitable, to pur- chase the luxury of gratitude ; that to regard the opinions of the respectable, is to conciliate esteem ; and that to yield obedience to the laws^ is to dwell in safety. Nor must we omit, amongst the arguments which recommend a compliance with the will of our Almighty Father, as conducive to ourpresent interests, to notice that internal tranquillity which flows from it. — How high and exquisite the pleasure derived from being conscious, that we have greatly subdued the evil of our dispo- sition, and obtained the mastery over ourselves : that we are accomplishing the ends of our being, acting serviceably towards our fellow- creatures ; properly filling up our place in so- ciety; and happily making progress in the life of wisdom, in the purification and exaltation of our nature ! How fearless, how placid, are the minds of any, by whom this honourable cha- racter may be appropriated ! How^ boldly may they walk amongst men ! how quietly retire 14 s£^i]^i6^^ i. to rest ! h6\v satisfactory are their secret re- flections ! what sweet communication can they hold with their Maker ! Reverse now in your minds all these particu- lars, and you will find in the contrast an oppo- site class of motives, of equal strength, in dis- suading you from undutifulness. But though godliness be undoubtedly, in these respects, great gain, having abundantly the promise of the life that now is ; the mer- cluaidisc of it will appear to us far more de- sirable, when it is estimated as a treasure laid up for the life to come. Its future rewards, we are informed, are such, as cannot be fully painted to human conception; as the boldest im.agina- tion has never feigned. This, however, we know, and it is sufficient information, that they are sure as the resurrection of Christ, and per- manent as the throne of God. And a service of faith and hohness is indeed the mote ne- cessary, since it is not only (as we are well aware) a condition, but further, a PKEPARATitE (as we are less apt to regard it) for our enjoy- ment of everlasting happiricss. Whatever dis- positions, whatever desires and aversions, have possessed an ascendancy in our minds upon earth, will, it is highly probable, accompany us int(> another world. They only who have cultivated, 4 MOTIVES TO DUTY. 1^ in the days of their pilgrimage, a preference of spiritual to earthly gratifications, are prepared for spiritual bliss. As none but the pure in heart shall SEE God, so none but the pure in heart are capable of experiencing felicity in his presence. In contrast with these benefits derived from a faithful compliance with the will of Him who sent us on the earth, we are, lastly, invited to review the disadvantages accruing, and to be dreaded, from a neglect of it. It is with the Lord of all power and might, let us remember, that we are engaged. Every trespass is an act of wrestling with God : — vain, unequal struggle! the creature with Him that formed it. If we live and prosper during a course of undutiful- ness, it is not to his want of power to arrest our steps, but solely to his mercy, and forbear- ance, and long-suflering, that our preservation and comforts are to be attribiited. To Him we owe, and of Him we hold, our life, our breath, our being. Have not the rebellious then cause to tremble beneath a Ruler, who can in one in- stant deprive them of any of the faculties which they pervert ; who can draw back any of the bounties which they abuse, and render them living and awful monuments of his might, and of their own impotence? But what do I say? Their times are in his hands * ; and where is the security, that his power may not, even * Psalm xxxi. 15. i6 SERT^OX r. nou^, or at any moment, be rousing itself froirt its rest, to blot tbem out as defects in his crea- tion — to sweep them away as obstructions to his designs ! Heedless and helpless insects that they are, sporting beneath the breath of an om- nipotent Creator, who has but to speak the word, and they are gone ! From this cursory view of the power of the Almighty, pass on now to a consideration of his purity. Mark, I pray you, in the records of Reve- lation, mark in the occurrences of life, to how great an extent sin is the object of his displeasure. In the expulsion of man from Paradise — in the general deluge — in the whole history of the children of Israel, the fact is again and again made manifest. j\Ian, we know, was originally formed for happiness, and it was sin which in- troduced misfortune and death : each common instance, accordingly, of misfortune, or of death, which occurs, is calculated to recall our attention to its connexion with the great source of evil. Every hour of life may we perceive in ourselves, or in others, proofs of God's unal- terable dislike to disobedience, and of his de- termination to suffer it, in no instance, to escape impunished. A curse is attached to sin. More or less — nearly or remotely, transgression is pur- sued, even by temporal punishments, in health, mind, reputation, possessions : not indeed ade- quate to it as a full measure of retribution, but MOTIVES TO DUTT. 17 an evident earnest of that severer account to which the Deity has threatened and designs to call the guilty. These are beacons of tlie di- vine wrath ; and surely ought to prompt a flight and determined abstinence from that evil which provoked, and provokes it. On the whole, a God, all-pow^erful and all- pure, we know, is not to be trifled with for ever. Alv/ays to resist him is utterly impossible. He must and will overcome in the end. Always to provoke him is the extremity of daring. A period must be put to the trespasses of those who would be saved : and if they themselves determine not that period, it only remains, that the exhausted long-suffering of the Father of mercies give place to the terrors of his ven- geance. What are the contents of those vials of his anger, Avhich he will in the end pour out on unrepented iniquity, w^e are not precisely or minutely informed. From the severity, how- ever, with which a criminal course of beha- viour is for the most part punished here upon earth, combined with the striking and awful images under which future torments are repre- sented to us ill Scripture, we may infer, how greatly these punishments and torments are to be feared. The v,onn that never dieth, the fire c 18 sERMoy r. that is not quenched, intimate at once to the guilty soul the intenseness and the duration of the pains of futurity. Revelation, indeed, while affording such in- timations, finds a comment in the testimony of our own natural feelings; which, while they look forward to eternity, convincingly declare, that it is in the nature of things impossible for the undutiful to be capable of enjoying the de- lights of heaven; since all their relishes are contrar}^ to such delights; since they are strangers to a desire, to a longing after the pure pleasures, that await the pure at the right hand of God. Conscience, in like manner, pronounces it to be just, that trespasses, not detected on earth, should be ultimately exposed ; that wherever the temporal retribution of guilt is slight, a commensurate suffering should be reserved for it; — in a word, that a more striking difference than appears in the present scene, should be made betwixt the conditions of good and bad men. With this constellation of motives before us- instigated by so great a variety of hopes and terrors ; of arguments speaking to our under- standing, and persuasives addressed to our feci- al MOTIVES TO DUTY. 19 ings; moved by every sentiment, and principle, and affection, which can be conceived capable of acting on intelligent beings; of fixing our determination, and invigorating our energies ; by a sense of our subjection to God ; by a love of his goodness ; by our strongest perceptions of honour and shame; by the desire of our present and everlasting welfare — thus warned by me- naces, to flee from the wrath to come, and al- lured by invitations, to rush into the arms of divine love, can any one hesitate to adopt the language of King David, Lord, I am thy ser^ *vant — truly I am tJiy ser^'ant * ; or to say, In the mlume of thy book it is written of me, that I ought to do thy will: I am content, I am eager to do it : yea, thy law is in my heart f. Let such of us as feel disposed to agree in this wise conclusion, remember, that all these collected inducements, which incline us to the service of the Almighty, are of equal force in urging reasonable creatures to yield unto him an obedience of earnestness. Little have they effected, and feebly are they felt, if their influ- ence be not acknowledged in our lives, as well as by our lips ; if they prompt us not to give. UP ourselves to the service of our Creator ; to regard him as the great master and proprietor of * Psalm cxvi. l6. f Psalm xl. 7, 8. c2 so SERWOK 1. our time, our talents, our wealth, and whatever we possess ; to apply these trusts, for trusts they are, wholly and exclusively, to the promotion of his glory : — in a word, to render unto him a similar obedience to that which confers on the servant of an earthly master the characters of faithfulness, diligence, and attachment. " To him, therefore, with the Son and the Holy Ghost, let us give, as we are most bounden, continual duty : — submitting ourselves entirely to his holy will and pleasure, and studying to iserve him in righteousness and true holiness ail the days of our lives," SERMON IL ON EXPERIENCE. LUKE, CHAP. XII. VERSE 57. Vea^ and why^ even of yourselves, judge ye not what is right? Wisdom is the daughter of experience. Even the sagacious conclusions of Solomon himself were derived from his acquaintance with the emptiness and the misery of folly. Thus, ia general, he 15 a wise man, who, after directing his attention to past circumstances and results, estabiir!:i^s it rs a rule, in conformity to which it Vi^ill \^ p^voper '0 regulate his conduct, that similar re.vulUJ will follow similar circumstances in tin: 3 '0 ccnie. Our ca^'/icir introduces the words which J h£.ve abov^ . xiv.d. by reminding his hearers that this v7as le principle on which the}' wer^ accLotc.iisd «.o fonn various reasonable conjec- tures rerr.Bcting the c^aily occurrences of life. fVhdn %}e iet a doud rise out of the westy 9tra'^^Jithjay ye say, There cometh a shower;: md when ye see titc south wind blow, ye say^ Tmrt will be heat: and you thus confidently c3 22 SERMON II. predict these changes of the weather, because you have, in a variety of former instances, ob- served them to have been uniformly preceded by the phenomena, from the appearance of which you once more augur their approach. The rule is plain and simple. What has been aforetime, will be hereafter: and when you again observe its commencement, you may infallibly predict its close. Wherefore then will you re- fuse to direct your moral conduct, by a maxim so trite, the regulator of your worldly opinions and proceedings? Ye discern by its aid the face of the sky and the earth : wherefore should you not apply it to the discernment of your best interests ? Yea, and why even of your- selves, of your own past experience, judge ye not what is right? Now, although, in relation to particular oc- currences, the separate experience of every one of us be different, there is yet a variety of ge- neral observations which all these diversities tend in common to establish, and which nearly all men must necessarily have deduced from the events of their past lives. Here then, Christians, taking a retrospective view, let us call these observations successively under our examination ; and while we assent, as we must, to the justness of each, let us unite ON EXPERIENCE. 23 ill forming from it such conclusions and reso- lutions, as its acknowledged truth will render prudent and necessary. 1. That from the intimate connexion which suhsists betwixt one part of life and another, the consequences of transgression extend to a distance, and are accumulated to a magnitude, almost inconceivable in the hour of offence, is one great truth established by general experi- ence. Most of you, my brethren, must have arrived at this conclusion, though, perhaps, by different ways. A single error, committed by one hearer, at some remote period, has worn out for itself a channel of misfortune, alons: which, down to the present day, his whole life has flowed. Another is bewailing the conse- quences of his having, long ago, neglected his opportunities of early instruction ; since he has found, that, by an improvement of them, he might have availed himself of advantages which he must now suffer to pass by him unenjoyed. A third having, perhaps, for a short period of kvity, interrupted his regular habits of assiduous study, or application to business, although on his speedy and penitent return to duty, assuredly re- conciled, through Christ, to Heaven, is paying a tenfold forfeit of his fault, in reputation, to men, less prompt (he finds) than Heaven to forgive; or in fprtune, to a world, less likely than Heaven to C4 24 ST,JlMON II. prove, when once neglected, a second time favourable. How many lias one fatal surrender of principle to passion, at which they had de- termined to sto[), led forward to another, and another, and another, until they at this liour find themselves enslaved to an habit, against' which the voice of reason ineffectually remon- strates? Need I point out the lesson incul- cated by these recollections? Such as, being conscious of them, are yet in the prime of life, will doubtless of themselves judge what is- light. Before you, my friends, extends the fair prospect, of yet continuing many years upon this earth. Beware of individual trespasses. Ab- stain from those short excursions in sinfulness, on which you are frequently inclined to veil* ture, by vainly persuading yourselves, that they are venial in guilt, and unimportant in their consequences. You know not, in truth, how tremendous may be their consequences ; or ra- ther, the past has already awfully warned you^ that, far from being deplored and forgotten in a day, they may embitter, with their baneful and unterminating influence, the very latest hour o^ your terrestrial existence. €. But in reviewing those past trahsactiotis of life, b^^ which your present hapj)iness or conduct has been materially affected, you may ascend still higher than your marked deviations from fee- ON EXPERIENCE. 2J ti tilde, to the circumstances, probably in them- selves less criminal, in which such deviations have originated. How much of your past mis- conduct, how mucli of your present unhappiness, is capable of being traced up to tlie intimacies you have formed, the amusements in which you have indulged, the situations into Avhich you have incautiously permitted yourselves to be throw^n ! All have been admonished (O ! that they were wise, and would consider the warning) how important it will be to their principles, to their practice, to their peace, to be, in time to come, scrupulous in their choice of friends ; guarded, sparing, and apprehensive in their plea- sures ; and even sufficiently distrustful of their best resolutions, to be watchful how they expose themselves in societies or in scenes pregnant in any degree with spiritual danger. 3. It is not, how^ever, exclusively, either by positive immoralities, or by an incautious inti- hiacy with the more obvious occasions of them, that the condition of men, at a distant period, is influenced. The slightest retrospective glance will remind them, that many issues of the ut- most magnitude have, primarily, proceeded from trivial, and if any thing could be ascribed to accident, it might be said, to fortuitous, oc- currences. Life is one long chain of events, «ach of which depends, not only on that to 26 SERMON II. which it is visibly and immediately linked, but on many others apparently too distant and too detached to affect it: and hence it often hap- pens, that the grandest results are remotely oc- casioned by a contemptible and hardly per- ceptible agency — as the broad and impetuous river is derived from some scanty spring that is scarcely observed, while it gushes from the cleft of a rock. Reflect for one moment on your present situation. Cast back your thoughts alono' the different connected circumstances of only a few years, and you will probably dis- cover, that a short excursion, a rencounter, a slight scheme formed in a careless moment, has led forwards to one strange effect after another, till it has at length produced the most wonder- ful reverses and the most momentous events in your life. Consider now, in the same manner, the present condition, in which, I trust, you perceive your immortal spirit. By what a seem- ing nothing has its better frame been formed! A book, which you have carelessly opened in an interval of leisure ; the course which a convivial conversation has chanced to take ; the interview of a single hour, perhaps of a few moments, with an individual of strong mind, or of deeply- marked character; an argument, a striking phrase which has reached your ears from the pulpit — some one of these singly immaterial circumstances has chanced to effect, I would ON EXPERIENCE. 27 say, as a Christian teacher, it has by divine in- fluence effected, an entire revolution in your sentiments and actions. It has begun with staggering you in your former opinions. It has sent you to solitude. It has thrown your mhid back upon itself. New trains of reflection have then opened to your view. These you have sought to aid by farther inquiry. You have conversed on new subjects. You have addicted 3^ouiself to new studies. You have joined your- self to new society. — Perhaps you have prayed. And thus, from so very small a beginning, you have come forth-— hail ! admirable work of di- vine grace — a new creature, a different cha- racter; — your principles new, your ideas new, your determinations new, your hopes and your fears new, your conduct new. The little grain of mustard-seed has gradually expanded itself, until it has become the largest and most beau- tiful of all plants. Something like what I have here endeavoured to describe, has at least formed, I doubt not, part of the experience of many. Now, you, my prudent friend, who HAVE experienced it, why even of your own self judge you not that which is right? By these astonishing changes, arising from insig- nificant commencements, ought you not to be warned how very expedient it still is that you should walk circumspectly in ordinary life.^ Ought you not to consider, that, in a state of 28 SERMON ir. trial, you are ever in imminent clanger of re- lapsing; and that a similar trifle to that which has been the first instrument in confirming you as a child of God, may conduct you back, by a series of consequences, unto the power of the prince of darkness? — May conduct you thither, do I say ? — ah ! has not the supposition been too faithfully realized? In attending, then, to any distant, minute circumstances, which have led to the establishment of your better resolutions, learn to advert toother remote, and probably, in themselves, not less insignificant, causes of your violation of them. And let whatever occupa- tion, research, resort, has formerly at all influ-» enced your departure from rectitude, be regarded as ground to be henceforward trodden, if trodden at all, with extreme caution, although in itself it may by men be deemed indifferent, and though it may not perhaps be specifically pro- hibited, either in th« law or the Gospel. Ex- perience, thus Improved, may rightly, though with reverence, be denominated " the provi- dence of man." On the wl.ole, hov/sver v>^ell-e?tablished may be yo^ir princ^^les r.rd habits, you are still, ^.nd at all lirries, ]u a uuljcient measure to excite vigilance — the child of ci/cvmistance and situa- tion. Account then nothing to be really indif- ferent. 3tand at all stiasons strictly on your ON EXPERIENCE. ^S guard. Watch, for in such an hour, and in such a manner as you think not, the spirit of Heaven, or the spirit of seduction, cometh. Left •what the world terms a triv ial or accidental oc- currence, be, in your vocabulary, a link in the order of providence : a means and vehicle of grace, or a step in the path of ruin. So arrange, as much as lies in your power, the general cir- cumstances of your earthly condition, as to render them, on the whole, favourable to piety and virtue : and with respect to all more casual impressions, to such events as are not, in any degree, at your disposal, strive tc settle in your heart a solidity and a seriousness — an habitual devotion, which, aided by divine grace, may obviate their possible evil tendency. 4. On revolving in your mind the past oc- currences of your life, all linked together, as we have above shown them to be, you can hardly fail to recollect instances, and these I will presume by no means few, of evil resulting in good. That which you at one time had rashly deemed a calamity, has led on to unex- pected prosperous events ; — or, what is infinitely preferable to all earthly prosperity, has produced an essential improvement in your principles and conduct. How many maxims of unlimited trust in Providence, of submission to present evils, of veneration for the wisdom and good- 30 SERMON IT. ness of the Deity, ought to be generated m your mind by this one recollection ! Under whatever distresses you may happen to labour, ought you not to look forward to a period when you will discover and own them all, to have been the means appointed by infinite Benefi- cence, for the promotion of your happiness, if not in this present world, assuredly, unless ob- structed by your own folly, in the next? 5. Reflection on experience will further re- mind most persons of the different ideas respect- ing the same circumstances, which they have entertained at different periods of their lives. Certain objects have, at one season, appeared requisite to your felicity. Towards the attain- ment of these, as you may well remember, the whole force and bent of your mind has been di- rected. They have been the points on which all your hopes have centred; the pinnacles of enjoyment on which you proposed to rest, in an entire contentment and tranquillity. In a short time, your sentiments have undergone a change : these objects of your fond contem- plation and affection have ceased to appear de- sirable in your eyes: they have been stripped of all that magic lustre with which your ar- dent imagination had invested them: you have turned with equal eagerness to different attain- ments ; and these too have had their day, and DN EXI*ERIENCE. Si proved dissatisfactory. JVhy eren of your awn selves judge ye not what is right ? Can you hesitate to conclude, from these recollec- tions, that tlie future is most likely to prove, to your perception, precisely as the past has proved? that, possibly, although reason he in your breast now matured, the prize after which you may be at present toiling, will, ere long, share the fate of all the others; that you will become weary of the toy, and relinquish the search ; that you may possess it, and find that it is vanity and vexation? Take warning from hence, my friend and hearer, not to act precipitately in any of your proceedings. Pause and reflect before you rush forward to an attainment, which may prove, after all, only an imaginary good. Walk round it, and contemplate it in every accessible point of view. Consider it in all its bearings and remote dependencies. Attend to its various unfavourable points, and place them fairly in opposition to its advantages. Wait to ask, if the passion which impels you forward be sanc- tioned by the calm decision of reason. Consult the advice of prudent and principled friends, older and w^iser than yourself: patiently and candidly listen to their opinion, and without being slavishly controlled by their judgment. 85 SERMON II. weigh at least, deliberately, the objection,* which they state. 6. But, lastly, under all these changes of opU jiion, under all circumstances whatever, and iii every period of life, it must be deeply engraven on the recollection of every one, that a strict ad- herence to duty has invariably been found ad- vantageous. Piety and integrity have stood your friends in difficulties ; have carried you through embarrassments; have removed obstacles ii^ your way ; have heightened to you the joy of suc- cess, and have consoled your sorrows in adver- sity. To a temporary dereliction of these firm supports, you can trace all your serious evil$ in life : to this, and not to any other cause it is, that you owe all your truly unpleasant recol- lections. Your trespasses, more, far more, than youj' calamities, are the ghosts which haunt your memory. Different worldly advantages have, at different seasons, been decked by yoUif glowing fancy with the charms of the sovereign good ; and you have lived to pronounce your eager search after all of them to have been only the changeablencss of human folly. But you ,do not repent of one moment which you ha\'« given to duty. Any fidelity in your dealings;; any conquest over passions ; any restraint im- eir earliest fondness and avidity, they are toiling and panting after its vanities ? These, then, however advanced in years, are still but very babes and sucklings in understanding. For, by infancy, in the sense of reason and re- ligion, we are not to understand the age of bodily helplessness, but the season of mental inconsideration. We are children at any age, infants even in decrepitude, if, when we have ON EXPERIENCE. 37 become men in years, we have not yet relin- quished childish things ; if we have not learned to reflect, to reason, to look forward; to trust in Providence ; to submit ourselves to tlie di- vine will ; to prepare for the numberless vicissi- tudes of life ; to attach ourselves to virtue, as the sovereign good ; to flee from vice, as bear- ing only an alluring gloss, a treacherous ap- pearance of delight; — in a word, as disciples of Jesus, to profit by our past failures, and to improve our present moments, by discovering our imperfection, by acknowledging our frailty, by believing in the name of Christ our Saviour, and by imploring for succour at the throne of grace. These (although on some of them our present limits forbid our casting more than this passing glance) are all acts of duty, of which a review of what has already happened in the lot and life of each of us, is well adapted to inculcate rJie importance and necessity. God grant that we may in this m.anner improve our experience, growing in wisdom as we advance in life ; that every revolving season, ihat every returning sabbath, may make us better as it finds us older; and litter for our latter end as it brings us nearer t& it, for the sake of Jesus Christ, our Lord and our Redeemer. Amen. d3 ,5B SERMON III. ON CULTIVATING A SERIOUS FRAME OF MIND. I PETER, I. PART OF VERSE 17. Pass the time of your sojourning here in fear. Whoever is at all conversant with the sacred writings must have remarked, that they insist, in many places, and by different modes of ex- pression, on the duty of fixing and cherishing in the heart, an habitual composure and serious- ness. Whether they admonish the children of men to stand in awe * — to set the Almighty Ruler always before them f — or to gird up the loins of their mitids; and to be sober :{: — this hallowing of the soai, this inward solemnity, is, evidently, the point of obedience which they aim at in- culcating. JValking in the fear cf God is another favourite phrase, employed by the holy penmen, to express the same meaning. We are commanded to xvork out our salvation zviih trem- hlih-g §; and, in the words which I have chosen as the subject of this discourse, to pass the time oj our sojournmg here in fear. * Psalm iv. 4. f Psalm xvi. 8. \ 1 Peter, i. 13. § Philip, ii. 12. ON" CULTIVATING A SERIOUS FRAME OF MIND. 39 That this is a most reasonable and necessary admonition ; that gravity should ever be the prevailing feature in the characters of tl:e dis- ciples of Jesus Christ, none can deny who will maturely consider, — 1st, that they are beiiigs having a variety of duties to fulfil : — 2dh^, that they are the children of sorrow : — 3dly, that they are surrounded with temptations : — 4thly, that they are frail, and utterl}^ insufficient to their own deliverance from evil: — ithly, that they are sinful : — 6thly, that they are short- lived : and lastly, that tliey are accountable to Heaven, in another world, for their conduct. 1. During all the days of our sojourning in this lower w^orld, we have, all of us, a large variety of serious concerns to attend to, and of important duties to fulfil. Although the Father of mercies has graciously permitted that our journey should be interspersed with seasons of rest and refreshment, we must at no moment forget that this present existence is a state of service and of trial ; and as such, presenting a work of no trifling labour to be executed, and difficulties not inconsiderable to be overcome. The purpose for which we were placed here on earth is, doubtless, not solely to take our ease, and to revel in enjoyment for many years, but, under the divine assistance, to recover ourselves from our fallen state, by a course of active ex- D 4 40 SERMON III. ertion. Every individual has, or ought to have, a calling in life, or a sphere of useful- ness, in w hich it is his duty and his proper bu- siness to move. His family, and the larger family of the community, have a claim upon his diligence. Nor are our duties exclusively confined to that occupation which constitutes our particular province in life. We have cha- rities to administer; example to hold forth ; ad- vice to communicate ; a long train of urgent obligations to discharge, as relatives, neighbours, friends, citizens, subjects. Before, my fellow- Christians, we can be thoroughly sensible of these multifarious demands upon our activity, and properly conceriied as to our faitliful com* pliance with them, you cannot but acknow- ledge that any tendency to levity, either in the miud or the behaviour, must have subsided into composure and though tfulness. He who i§ without serious thought, it may be held as an axiom, is without solid purpose. 2. And this gravity, and soberness of dispo- sition and deportment, will appear the more expedient, when we next consider, thitt in ad- dition to our weight of duties, great as it is, a still heavier burden of cares and sorrows has been inherited from our first parents. The posterity of Adam, we are told, are doomed, not only to earn their bread with the sweat of ON CULTIVATING A SERIOUS FRAME OF MIND. 41 their brow, but also to gather the fruits of life, in the midst of thorns and thistles. Man is born unto trouble^ as the sparks fii/ upwards *\ — Such was his melancholy destination from the fall; and in the sad experience of the whole human race has it been strictly and severely accomplished. What a succession of sorrows do we encounter in our pilgrimage ! We entertain hopes, only to be disappointed : we lay plans, to be de-i feated : we form friendships, to be dissolved. Some Avho are piesent, among the young and inexperienced, may not hitherto, it is possible, have received their portion, in this common lot of suffering humanity. The candle of prosperity may have shone upon them from their birth, and they may have as yet had no cause for vexation and heaviness. They may- be flattering their hearts that they shall go -softly all their days, and never behold affliction; while the wheel may be, even at this moment, turning — ere long it will most assuredly turn — which will bring them down from their emi- nence into the dust. Though a man live many years^ and rejoice in them all, yet let him ixmem- her the days of darkness, for they shall he many f. Now, although we may not be required to in- crease the miseries of this existence, by immo- derate anxiety concerning evils that threaten, or excessive gloom under such as have hefallea, * Job, V. 7. t Eccles. xi. 8. 42 SERMON III. US, it must, unquestionably, be prudent to ac- commodate our minds, in some degree, to our unfortunate condition ; to take precaution, lest the evil day, on its arrival, should find us in all the unprepared madness of mirth; in the feeble- ness and enervation of a voluptuous and unre- flecting life ; ill adapted to bear up against the pressure of calamity : or, if troubles already bear us down, to forvv^ard their intended use, by hallowing our souls with sober thoughts and pious purposes; by providing that our tribula- tion shall generate patience; and patience ex- perience ; and experience of the sadness of the present life, a calm, but serious hope of a better *. 3. From this brief examination of our duties and sorrows, as inimical to an habitual riot of the spirits, we proceed to derive a new argument for sober-mindedness, from a view of the TEMPTATIONS witli wliicli WO are surrounded. Our souls are beset, on all sides, with dangers. There is no one pleasure, how^ever harmless, we enjoy, under which a snare is not concealed. In all the fruits of this wreck of Paradise, sin has mingled a secret poison ; and the serpent, the subtlest beast of the field, still lurks amongst the fairest and purest flowers that spring beneath our feet. We cannot fulfil our ordinary * Rom. V. 3, ON CULTIVATING A SERIOUS FRAME OF MIND, 4S duties, exempt from trials of our temper. We cannot converse with a common acquaintance, safe from being betrayed into impropriety of speech. We are uivAble to Uve a single day in the world, without the hazard of contracting an imanoderate attachment to it. A taiut of vice may silently and slowly steal upon our best and sincerest services: and even here, in this temple of worship itself, in this ark and sanctuary of pious affections, Satan, in the form of an ostenta- tious motive, or an unholy thought, niay intrude amongst the sons of God*. Those enemies, in short, against whom we have promised, in the vow of our baptism, to contend, are every where in arms against us : and though, by the grace of God, the regenerate and well-prin- cipled may, through habits of resistance, have established their souls in a superiority to com- mon trials, no one human being is at any time perfectly secure. Environed tlien by all these formidable evils, having to guard against tempt- ation on the right hand and on the left, can we deem it proper to revel in the bowers of pleasure, or to raise the roar of intemperate mirth, as if all were at peace and in safety around us? The soldier on his watch, who dreads being surprised by the foe, passes not the night of apprehension in jollity or indif- ference, — So, my Christian hearers, iu our re- * Job, i. 0. 44 SERMON III. ligious warfare, sedateness, let us be assured, is the brother of circumspection ; and with much propriety has Scripture conjoined the pre- cepts — Be sober; be vigilant^. Does not recol- lection, indeed, whisper, that whenever, in time past, we have been drawn aside from the right path, it was in the season of giddiness, and during the banishment of thought ? And why should we once more deliver ourselves over to that height of exhilaration in which w^e are aware, that evil imperceptibl}^ possesses the breast, while principle is forgotten, and the voice of conscience is unheard? A serious frame of mind is necessary in this our warfare, as the protector of Christian purity. It does not, like levity, harmonize with tempta- tion. It converts the bosom into holy ground, from the precincts of which the evil one, smitten with awe, will retreat. It is an inward monitor, continually reminding us that Christ hath no fellowship with Belial. It preserves us from the contagion of the vices of this world, by creating in the soul a discordance even with its vanities. It is a temper ever on the watch to check the exuberance of fancy, the levity of mirth, and the riot of hilarity : to say to in- dulgence, when insensibly gliding into folly, Hitherto shalt thou come, and no further. It * 1 Peter, t. 8. ON CULTIVATING A SERIOUS FRAME OF MIND. 45 places the soul which it occupies on an high eminence, above the perils incidental to any communication with the wicked, which in the course of worldly affairs may be occasionally requisite ; and exempts it from the intrusion of those impure visitants, which are so apt to insinuate themselves into frivolous minds, when they are softened, and lulled, and left unguarded, by what is too often, m their case, rashly and falsely termed harmless gaiety, or allowable enjoyment. 4. But the wisdom of seriousness will be still more apparent, when we remember, fourthly, that, thus surrounded by temptations, we are our- selves most exceedingly frail, and inclined, by our inborn corruption, to yield to them. In our hearts naturally dwelkth no good thing *. When Satan addresses us, instead of fleeing away from him, or, like our Saviour, com- manding him to get him behind us, it is too true, my brethren, that we are prone, by disposition, to welcome his arrival, and to court his stay. We know, that, for the correction of this un- happy perverseness, we are altogether depend- ent upon the Father of Spirits. Have we fre- quently defied unlawful allurement ? Have we made considerable advancement in holiness ? It is by the influence of the all*strengthening • Rom, vii. 18. 4^ SERMON jir. Spirit of Heaven, that we are what we are *. And if we wish or intend to persevere in the way of life, it is to the same power alone that we n^.ust look for support. Sedateness then will be admitted to be the proper mood, for the reception of this celestial visitant. We cannot expect that he will make his hallowed abode, in the midst of volatility and folly. And it is so awful a consideration that God should vouch- safe to dwell at all with man, that it well de- serves to be entertained with the profoundest reverence. Indeed, as this consideration is most suitably received, it can only b^s rightly che- rished and improved, by an habitual sobriety of mmd. 5. Man, however (for it is necessary yet further to humble liim in his owii opinion), is more than frail : he is positively guilty. He is not merely a creature disposed to fall : — in many, in countless instances he has fallen. Our tendency to evil has fully evolved itself. To original depravity we have added actual transgression. The seed of the tare, instead of being destroyed, has been suffered to multiply, and to choke the good grain. The root of bit- terness has shot rankly upwards, and extended its branches on every side. The fountain of evil, not continuing sealed, has gushed forth * 2 Cor. XV. 10. ON CULTIVATING A SERIOUS FRAME OF MIND. 47 into an ample stream. The best and most guarded have, on many occasions, on many- more occasions than memory can retrace, de- parted from the law of God ; and have found too much reason to join with David in exclaiming, JVho can tell how oft he ojfendeth * / If holding in recollection, then, this view of our sinfulness, we connect it with a contem- plation of the divine attributes — if we represent to ourselves a God, every where present, in- finitely holy, strictly just, all-powerful — we shall properly perceive, and remember, that while thus guilty, we are marked by the inspection of his omnipresence, obnoxious to the indignation of his purity ; that we have incurred a severe retribu- tion from his justice, and cannot escape from his power. Admitting, for the moment, that a future world were an uncertainty, the dread of TEMPORAL punishmcut, and the bare possi- bihty of eternal woe, which such considerations might be supposed to suggest, seem sufficient to inspire the mind with seriousness. Even when we contemplate the mercy of the Divinity, which spreads a soft light over his other attri^ butes, the reflection, while it consoles, must only add to our concern; as a sense of our litter un worthiness will, one would imaging, * Psalm xix. 12, (Prayer-book.) 48 SERMON III. tend naturally to damp the hopes of our pardon, or to sadden the belief in our safety. Mental sobriety, then, is the proper conco- mitant of remorse; — a disposition well adapted to beiiigs like us, whose iniquities cannot be numbered. To say nothing of the indecency of a contrary habit, can we fail to perceive its imminent danger? Is the convicted criminal likely to obtain mercy or pardon, by assuming at the bar an appearance of hilarity and unconcern? Whence can he expect that a mitigation of his punishment will proceed, but from the supposition of his entertaining — from the tenderness awakened in the judge by his demonstraiing'^d. deep and fixed contrition for his offence? 6. To this argument in favour of internal seriousness, derived from a view of our con- dition as sinful, another, not perhaps less powerful, may be added, which proceeds from the recollection of our being shokt-lived. A span, a breath, the shadow of a passing cloud, the fadiiig flover, the ephemeral insect, are the striking but just similitudes em- ployed, to represent the term of our duration upon' eartl]. Vve are beings born to look about us, and to die. Is there nothing to expel vo- latility from the mind, — is there nothing to ON CtJLTIVATING A SERIOUS l^llAME OF MIND. 49 inspire solemnity and melancholy in the consi- deration that life, with all its joys, is fleeting; that every transient hour steals some portion away from it ; that now, while I am speaking, and you, my friends, are listening, we are all carried nearer to its speedy termination. How near we may be to its close, we are unable to tell : for short as it is at the best, the events of each day prove it to be moreover extremely precarious. Is it fitting then that the victim should sport before that altar, where every pre- paration announces that it will shortly bleed ? Ought we to give loose to riot at that festive board, where a sword is suspended by a hair over our heads ? In the record preserved by the sacred writings, of the two great destructions by water and fire, it is related, that the people sat down to eat and drinky and rose up to play, till the flood came a7id took them away— till H i^ained fire and brimstone from heaven, and destroyed them all. And thou oh floods of water and cataracts of fire do not overwhelm the present genera- tions of men, yet the silent devastations of time or accident continually carry off one un- thinking individual after another ; so that to us, who are come in these latter days, it may still be said, with the strictest propriety, Ncrw these things have happened for examples * — O that men ^ 1 Cor, X. U; £ JO SERMON in. zvere xvise, that they would consider this — that they would remember their latter eiid^ ; and learn to be serious from a sense of the necessity of expediting the business of a short and preca- rious existence, and of preparing for the im- pending mandate of their dismissal. 7. But reflections on the brevity and uncer* tainty of this life, dejive their principal awful- ness and main importance, from the great events \vhich are to follow its termination. We are short-lived : Ave vanish away : we are account- able to Heaven for our conduct. It is appointed unto all men once to die ; and after that thejudg" ment. The final, and grand, and conclusive ar- gument, then, recommending inward serious- ness, is the voice of the trumpet which shall summon us before the tribunal of Christ, j^unded as it is by the angel of prophecy. For every deed done in the body ; for every sinful, ^very idle word spoken; for every present thought dishonourable to integrity, or tainting to purity, must a strict and faithful account be rendered unto the Searcher of hearts. In the hearts of beings, then, like us, my brethren, for whom a trial so severe and so terrible is pre- pared, and who have enlarged to so vast a mag- nitude the roll of our ofiences, ought not se-. * Deut. X2U,U. 2y. ON CULTIVATING A SERIOUS FRAME OF MIND. 51 riousness and awe to be the prevailing disposi- tions? For US who are advancing witli steps thus rapid to the judgment throne of justice and purity — a throne before which we are so ill qualified to stand; a place of retribution where the everlasting rewards of whicli we know we are so little worthy, and the punishments which we have so justly merited, are to be apportioned — gravity is surely the proper livery of the mind. Serve the Lord, O man ! who art shortly to appear before him, with a reverential and cau- tious dread of offending*'. — Place the day of wrath habitually before thine eyes, that thou mayest beware of heaping up to thyself wrath against its arrival f ||. After having thus exhibited, in a single view, the various, urgent, and awful motives to the * Psalm ii. 11. f Rom. ii. 5. II " Ah^ my friends," exclaims a religious writer, whose words we may borrow in summing up these reflections, *' while we laugh, all things are serious around us :— God is serious, who exerciseth patience towards us ; Christ is se- rious, who shed his blood for us ; the Holy Ghost is serious, who striveth against- the obstinacy of our hearts j the Holy Scriptures bring to our ears the most serious things in the world ; the Holy Sacraments represent the most serious and awful matters 3 the whole creation is serious in serving God and us ; all that are in heaven or hell are serious :— 'how then can we be otherwise ?"— Young. E 2 52 SERMON in. cultivation of internal seriousness, I must beg leave, in conclusion, to state precisely, what is to be understood by such a disposition. For it is no austere devotion, no servile and supersti- tious dread of God as an enemy and an avenger — no uninterrupted contemplation of earthly evils, or spiritual themes, no hourly dwelling of the mind amidst graves, or self-summoning to judgment, such as would at once obstruct the discharge of active services, and banish that secret satisfaction, that perennial serenity, and that contented participation of the blessings of Providence, which are the meed of a sincere love of God, and of an habitual endeavour to serve him ; — it is none of these exactions that are required. No ! reasonable occupation in the affairs of life, and a temperate but cautious use of its truly innocent and sober gratifica- tions, seem not inconsistent with the strictest Christianity. What then does our holy religion prohibit ? It forbids that our time should be lavished, or much employed ; our thoughts, our souls ab- sorbed, or deeply engaged, in the things of the present scene. It forbids us, not only to live altogether without God, but to live without holding daily intercourse with him in the world. It places a barrier, which the candidate for ON CULTIVATING A SERIOUS FRAME OF MIND. 55 Heaven must not pass, betwixt sober, vigilant, reserved gratification, and the levities, vanities, and fooleries which surround him. It totally interdicts a living unto pleasure of any kind ; a self-exposure to volatility ; a coldness in re- ligion; a heedlessness concerning either the more leading, or the inferior moral obligations of life. In short, all the arguments on which we have here expatiated, will be found at once motives to seriousness, and modes of it : consi- derations constituting, when habitually che- rished, the very frame of mind which, as sim- ply noticed, they conspire to inculcate. The love and fear of God is the first and up- permost principle in the heart of the true believer. Complacency and gladness he regards as not wholly withheld from the faithful ser- vant of an infinitely good and kind Master ; but they are not permitted to disturb that timid awe, which becomes a servant, who has left much neglected, and done much which he knows he ought not to have dojie. Not losing sight of the great purpose of his being, he often and deeply revolves within himself in what manner he has hitherto laboured to accom- plish it; what time he possesses for supplying £3 .54 SERMON III. imperfections; and how he is likely to fare when he shall go hence. He is anxious to make a friend of God as a refuge and helper in the apprehended evils and dangers of existence. He sedulously cultivates an habitual aptitude to avail himself of every passing occurrence, the state of public affairs, the transactions of each day, successes and calamities, every spectacle of woe, every scene of pleasure, and, above all, of every warning offered in public instruction, by converting them into themes of spiritual meditation, and occasions of moral improve- ment. Well knowing the power of his spi- ritual adversaries — the difficulty of the labour that Heaven hath set before him— the frailty of his nature, and the side on which he is chiefly vulnerable, he abstains from any intemperance even in innocent enjoyment, and stops far short of the point of danger. He is actuated by the dread of a relapse into forsaken offences, as well as by an apprehension of his being sud- denly removed from the world, before he has done all that is needful for his salvation. And although these grave but wholesome fears are not, and need not be, continually present to re- flection, yet is their influence perpetually felt ; — » as men are wont to pursue their path in the day, without thinking of the sun by whose beams they are enlightened. ON CULTIVATING A SERIOUS FRAME OF MIND. SS That we may still further increase and che- rish that habitual seriousness, which has on the present occasion been the subject of our medi- tations, let it be our resolution and our study to attend with regularity, and with an honest desire of spiritual improvement, the various public services of our church; while we deter- mine to be not less careful or systematic in ob- serving the duties of family devotion; and while we frequently snatch from the employ- ments of the world an hour to be dedicated to private meditation and prayer. Daily let us delight ourselves in the law of God, and in the Gospel of his divine Son; — at the same time nourishing our internal sobriety, and elevating all the devout affections, by psalms, and hymns, and spiritual songs, if not uttered with the voice of melody, at least ascending to the gate of Heaven, in the silent but acceptable music of the heart. Let us regulate our hours of converse and relaxation with a view to the pre- servation, and, if possible, the improvement of our sober-mindedness, and strictness of religious principles. And, lest deceitful levity, our smiHng and insidious enemy, should still at- tempt to introduce, unpcrceived, a forgetful- ness of God and of duty into the breast, let us, finally, study to guard against his encroach- ments, by descending into the hut of poverty, by acquainting ourselves with the mansion of £ 4 56 SERMON III. mourning ; by sitting down in the chamber of sickness ; by contemplating the bed of death; or by pondering, at intervals, in the place of tombs ! So shall we pass the time of our so- journing in fear : we shall work into the heart, and into the conduct, that general solidity and sobriety, which are at once the necessary source, and the sure indication, of a well-regulated and well-disposed breast: we shall, in a w^ord, stand like men who wait for their Lord; and who, when he cometh and knocketli, are in a proper frame of m.ind, to answer, " We are ready," and to open to him immediately. 57 SERMON IV. CHRISTIAN PATRIOTISM.— A FAST SERMON. PSALM CXXII. VERSES 7, 8, 9. Peace he within thy zvalls, and prosperity within thy palaces : for my brethren and companions' sake, I will now say, Peace be within thee. Be- cause of the house of the Lord our God, I will seek to do thee good. Patriotism has, in every age and nation of the world, been regarded as a very exalted virtue. So highly indeed was it estimated by the hea- then states of antiquity, that they accounted it worthy of superseding, in many instances, the ties of domestic attachment. Toinstdthis noble principle was the chief business of education. Citizens, to prove that they were true to it, thronged into every office of unrecompensed trouble, and courted posts of imminent danger. They even looked forward with complacency, or rather with ardour, to any opportunity of sacrificing their lives, for the sake of the land which had ffiven them birth. Not less distinguished were the chosen people of God, for the same attachment towards 58 SERMON IV. their native country. Dragged in captivity into a foreign land, they sat down by the li'aiers of Babylon, and xvept, ivhen they remembered thee, O Zionl When, in cruel mirth, and savage exultation over their sorrows, their enemies de- manded of them a song, we read that they hung up their harps upon willows, and asked, with a sullen but natural dejection. How can we sing the Lord's song in a strange country *F Daniel, exalted to high authority in that foreign state, was unable to forget that he was still onl}'- pre- eminent in servitude, and that his preference was due to the land of his fathers ; for it is re- corded, that he was wont to pray three times a day, with his windows open toxvards Jerusalem'\. And when, agreeably to the prediction of pro- phecy, and at the end of the appointed course of years, it pleased God to turn back the cap- tivity of his people, and to restore them to their natal soil, then xvas their mouth filled with laugh- ter, and their tongue with singing J. Whatever some mistaken individuals may aver, the religion of Jesus does, certainly, not inculcate the absorption of this virtue, in that wider duty of universal benevolence which it has taught. We know that the Author of that religion himself, first addressed his warnings to his own countrymen: he came unto his own\'y * Psalm cxxxvii. f Daniel, vi. lO. X Psalm cxxvi. 2. f John, i. 11. CHRISTIAN PATRIOTISM. 59 he was sent primarily to the lost sheep of the house of Israel "*. A foresight of the calamities which were speedily about to befall the metropolis of his unhappy country, extorted from him the following pathetic apostrophe: O I Jerusakmy which killcst the prophcls, and stonest them who are sent unto thee ; how often would I have ga- thered thee as a hen doth gather her brood under her wings, and ye would not '\ ! In like manner, on the eve of his crucifixion, it is written, that he saw the city, and wept over it ; and said, If thou hadst known, even thou, at least in this thy day, the things which belong unto thy peace: but now they are hid from thine eyes J. Nor can it with reason be pretended, that these instances of patriotism, exhibited by the chosen people, under the law, and by the sacred Personage who introduced among men a better hope and a purer morality, are undeserving of being received as amounting to a direct injunction. It is surely something more than a doubtful argument, in favour of any particular branch of duty, that Scripture represents it as a legitimate feeling, which we are no where commanded to suppress; and to which its highest patterns of piety, of wisdom, and of worth, have given an unli- mited indulgence. * Matt, XV. 2^ t Luke, xiii. 34. % Luk«, xix. 42* €0 SERIMON IV. The duty of Patriotism then being recom- jnended and enjoined by these illustrious exam- ples, it is proper to inquire (and the inquiry will not be unsuitable to a day of national humilia- tion and repentance, as well as to the present state of our country), what is the nature, and what the extent, of those services, which Christianity permits or demands, in our discharge of this important obligation. I. Ohed'mice to the laws of our country, and suhmission to its constituted authorities, are prime ingredients in the virtue under consideration. Without law, confusion would prevail: wic- kedness would be unrestrained, crimes unpu- nished, property endangered, and life insecure. Civil magistrates, and the other poxvers that be in any state, are appointed for the pmnshmejit of e^vil doers, and the praise of them that do well*. Now, one useful service by which we may evince our love to the community in which we dwell, is, that of quietly moving in our re- spective stations ; complying with these laws, and contributing our share towards a general submission to these authorities : for laws are ac- knowledged to derive much weight from that countenance of public opinion, to which the subscription of each individual is of import- ance ; and it is by the peaceable submission of * 1 Pet. ii. 14. CHRISTIAN PATRIOTISM. 61 tlie great body of the governed, that the au- thority of the magistrate over the refractory is the most effectually recognised and main*- tained *. This quiet and voluntary subjection to thq laws and magistracy, is opposed, not to that bold resistance, which extraordinary emergencies, or extreme oppression, have been by many re- garded as justifying ; but to that turbulent and murmuring spirit displayed by those who are studious, on every ordinary occasion, to oppose the course of law, and to clog the wheels of public administration : a spirit which the Scrip- tures seem to have in view, when they command * Opinione, piu efficace della forza medesima. Beccaria. On this head we might further observe, that it is mora conducive to the peace of a community, that crimes should pot exist, than that they should prevail and be punished. A state is happier as the occasions of enforcing penal laws are less frequent. That man, then, discharges no inconsiderable office of Patriotism, who takes care, by giving no offence, that the law shall not be driven to any painful exertion of its severity, pn HIS account. In the foregoing observations, the author anxiously depre* cates being considered as entering on the general question of submission in every supposable case, whatever may happen to be the established laws and authorities. Let it be remembered that he is addressing a free and happy people who enjoy the blessing of a magistracy subservient to lawj and whose laws are their own voice (through the medium of their deputed Representatives), imposing restraints upon theaiselves. 52 SER!\IOX IV. US to submit ourselves to every ordinance of man, for the Lord's sake^: when they enjoin every soul to be subject unto the higher poivers : since the poxvers that be are ordained of God; and since whosoever therefore resisteth the power, resisteth the ordinance of God: when they add, JFherefore ye must needs be subject, not only jvr zcralh, but also for conscience sake '\ : and foi-cibly describe the evil disposition which a spirit of insubordi- nation indicates, by identifying persons who despise government %, with t\\o^ev,A\o walk after the flesh §. II. In some states, the duty of Patriotism has been regarded as almost solely confined to military service. And, no doubt, in times like those in which we live, to enlist ourselves in the bands that are voluntarily embodied for in- ternal security and defence, to sacrifice a por- tion of our time and comforts to the necessar}'' exercise which the discipline of those bands prescribes; — to be willing and prompt, at any warning, to encounter with them the incle- mency of seasons and the hardships of service; — to resolve, if our inveterate foe should ever set his foot upon our shores, on hazarding our lives in an attempt to repel him ; — are consti-' tucnt parts of Christian Patriotism, too import- ant and indispensable to be omitted. I repeat * 1 Pet. ii. f Rom. xiii. X 2 Pet. X. § Jiide, vUu CHRISTIAN PATRIOTISM. 63 the words, Christian Patriotism : for as the Gospel of general philanthropy does hy no means aim at extinguishing the love of our country, neither does the Gospel of Peace pro- hibit the profession and tlie use of arms. The soldiers who inquired of the forerunner of our Lord, what they should do to escape from the wrath to come, were directed, not to abandon their calling, but to continue in it, content with their wages *. And Cornelius, the Gen- tile convert of Peter, whose prayers and alms had called down an instructing angel from above, is mentioned as a devout man^ although he was a Centurion, or captain of an hundred soldiers f. TIL Military service, however, occupies a very limited and subordinate place amongst the va- rious methods by which a love of our country may be signalized. If the case w ere otherwise, the sex, the age, the profession of many citi- zens, would exempt them from the oblig-ation, or exclude them from the pleasure, of partici- pating in the discharge of this interesting duty. The rendering o^ pecuniary support to our coun- try^ by voluntary benevolence if our circum- stances permit, or at least by a cheerful and honest submission to all such public burdens as fall to our share, is an exertion of Patriotism, * Luke^ iii. 14. f Acts, x. 7. 64f SERMON IV. much more comprehensiv^e in regard to the classes of citizens of whom it is demanded. Never let narrowed private finances, or the hardships of a particular juncture, prevail with us, during seasons of warfare, to clamour for premature pacification ; if soher and unbiassed reason convince us, that such an event would purchase momentary relief, and hazard eventual ruin ; — would prove a short and deceitful calm, preparatory to a more dreadful storm ; — that it would betray our countrymen into a false secu- rity, which would only render them a more easy and certain prey to a watchfid and unprin- cipled foe ; — in this manner lulling them in the lap of a Dalilah *, that the seven locks in which their strength consisted, might be shaven away during then' inglorious slumber. Rather, on such an occasion, let us bear those ills we have, than tly to others that we know not of: — let us patiently endure, and honestly share, the taxa- tions imposed by Government, as the means of preserving us from heaviei evils : — and that we may endure them the more easily, as well as avoid temptation to any unfaithfulness in pay- ment, let us virtuously resolve to retrench our luxuries, and to subject ourselves to voluntary privations. And surely, while the sad account of the famine, the fatigue, the complicated suf- ferings, recently t sustained by our military com- * Judges, xvi. 18. f After the retreat to Corunna, CHRISTIAN PATRIOTISM. 65 patriots, in a long and harassing retreat, with all that patience, fortitude, perseverance, and determined valour, which are answerable to their character, — while this is yet fresh in our memories; (distresses and calamities unques- tionably endured by them for the sake of their country, — inasmuch as they have been engaged, as at another Thermopylae, in intimidating the menacers of invasion ;) — it cannot be deemed unreasonable to demand, that we, who sit at home at our ease, should, in the same cause, undergo the inferior evils incurred by a con- scientious temporary contraction of our super- fluous expenses and enjoyments* An attention to the present circumstances of the country, has led me to confine myself thus far to a recommendation of submission to those unusual public burdens, which are inci- dental to a season of hostility. It is proper to add, that for conducting the affairs of a great empire, for rewarding its public officer^, for supporting its courts of justice (in which the judges must necessarily be remunerated out of the public purse, that they may stand above temptation to be biassed by private corruption); for maintaining such troops as are, at all sea- sons, requisite to the preservation of internal tranquillity ; and, finally, for discharging the in- terest and principal of the public debt; taxation T 66 SEUMGN IV. to a certain amount may be always expected by us, even in times of peace. Hence our Saviour and his Apostles, in establishing the willing and honourable payment of tributCj as a Christian duty, have delivered the authoritative precepts which recommend it, as applicable on all occa- sions. Render unto Casar the tJungs which are C(EsarSy was the reply of Jesus to those who questioned him on the lawfulness of paying public assessments: and although, as the Son of God, himself exempt from tribute, Notwith- standing (said he to Peter), lest we offend than, go thou to the sea, and cast an hook, and opening the mouth of the first fish that comet h up, thoit-^ ^halt find a piece of money : that take, and gho tmto them for thee and 7ne*, To the same effect are the admonitions of St. Paul : For this cause, that is, for conscie72ce sake, pay ye tribute also : for they who demand it are God's ministers, at- tending conthmaUy on this very tiling. Render therejhre to all their dues: tribute to whom tribute^ is due; custom to whom custom ; fegr to zuJwm^ fear; honour to w/iom ho)wur'\. It M ill further be considered by the Chrisr tian patriot, that the payment of public taxes is, like any other debt, an act of ordinary justice. It is a debt due from every citizen^ t03. the state, for the protection of his person and: * Matt. xvii. 27. f Rijio. Kiit. 6, 7. CHRISTIAN PATRIOTISM, 67 property. The servant of God, then, who studies to walk honestly as in the day*^ will scorn and dread to withhold his lawful propor- tion of it by any evasion or concealment; he will satisfy the demands of the public creditor. as conscientiously as he endeavours to fulfil his engagements with any merchant or tradesman^ who has supplied his private wants. Nay, he will regard the honourable payment of tribute, as a duty of charity as well as of justice. He will reflect, that whatever is culpably withheld must necessarily create some defalcation in the public revenue : a defalcation which, were it ever so little, must be supplied by an additional assessment levied on those citizens who render their tribute with integrity. Consequently, he will not cast on these, his brethren and fellow-* labourers, a larger share of the common burden than, in strict equity, belongs to them ; because it is his principle, mt to do unto others^ that whivh he would not wish that they should do unto him f. IV. A patriotic service, in which all ranks and conditions are capable of concurring, and ought to concur, is the offering of supplications at the throne of Almighty God, for the preserva- tion and welfare of their native land. We may mnark, however, that since it is the exclusive * Rom. xiii. 13, t Matt. vu. 12, F 2 68 szmpoN iV. province of men, engaged in secular pur-^ suits, to arm and to act, this latter contribu* tion to the welfare of the body politic is pecu- liarly (though by no means exclusively) in- cumbent on the !Ministr3% on the softer sex, on old age, and on childhood. Accordingly, in a fast mentioned by the Prophet Joel, we find the following injunctions prescribed : Blow the trumpet in Zion; sanctify a fast: assemble the ELDERS : gather the children and thein that suck the breasts : let the bridegroom go forth out of his chamber, and the bride out of her closet : let the PRIESTS, the 7}unisters of the Lord, weep between the porch and the altar ; and let them say, Spare thy people, Lord! a?id gitie 7i(H tliine heritage io reproach *. Thus, in seasons of public humiliation, or public danger, ought persons of every age, and sex, and profession, but more particulariy those to whom we have above alluded, pray for the peace of their Jerusalem 1[. To-day we are €alled upon (but, I trust, my fellow-wor- shippers, we shall likewise remember in our usual supplications) to make entreaty for the success of our arms by land and sea; — for . abundant harvests, which may mitigate the evils of war; — for that wisdom and virtue in the national councils, which may steer tts in safety through the storm ; — for internal ^ Joel, ii. 15, 16, j;. f Pialm cxxii. 6^ CHRISTIAN PATRIOTLSlxr. ^9 union; for national prosperity. It is -hot from our own strength or exertions, but only from the favour of Providence, that these blessings arc to be expected : for we know that txeri^ good and perfect gift cometh doum from the Father of lights*. Humbly, and without harbouring a spirit of unchristian rancour, we must further request, that it may please Almightj^ God to abate the pride, to appease the malice, and to confound the devices, of our enemies. We are to entreat him to withhold, from any short- sighted wishes which we may form, a; rash and destructive peace > as well as speedily to bestow on us the blessing of a peace that is horiGur- able, secure, and lasting. Above ^11, it is our bounden duty to deplore our private and national offences ; and to deprecate, through the inter- cession of our blessed Redeemer, the wrath of God, which they have too justly merited. V. This leads me to a consideration of tl^d last service which I shall mention, as a compo- nent part of Christian Patriotism : I allude to d general and comprehensive repentance, a conversiod from the heart of unbelief and from all dead ic oris, to he effected for the sake, of our countrif^ in addi- tion to the many higher motives by which this change of disposition and conduct is recom- mended. * James, i. 17. F 3 TO SERMOX IV. Our prayers, we may rest assured, whether pubhc or secret, will find no access to the fa- vour of God, unless they be accompanied with corresponding resolutions and exertions, sin- cere, strenuous, and dependant on divine grace. Is not this the fast (saith God) that I have chosen ; to loose the bands of wickedness ; to undo tJie hea^jy burdens ; to let the oppressed go free ; to deal thy bread to the hungry ; to bring the poor to thy house; to cover the naked when thou seest hi7n; and not to hide thyself from thine o^n flesh ? Then shalt thou cally and the Lord shall answer : tjien shalt thou cry^ and he shall say^ Heix I am*. We have, moreover, scriptural examples to prove, that repentance and obedience possess no inconsiderable influence, through the great Mediator, in prevailing with the Deity to spare cities, which by their wickedness had incurred his displeasure. Within forty days shall Nineveh be destroyed, was the awful warning of the Prophet Jonah : but the Ninevites repented, and the threat was revoked |. — 0/ my Lor d^ said Abraham to the Almighty, when he came to destroy the sinful city of the plain, O I my L(yrd, peradventure ten righteous per so7is shall be found there : and God said, I will ?iot destroy i(, for tens sake J. * Isaiah, Iviii. ^, 7^ 9. f Jonah, iii. 4. JO. i Gren. xviii. 32, I CHRISTIAN PATRIOTISiT, 7'1 In this country, wc liave reason to believe, ancl to be tliankful, the number of the penitent and righteous is incalculably greater : but it is proper to recollect, that that light of the Gospel liath shone upon us, which, if Sodom and Gomorrah liad been blessed in beholding it, Avould ha\e induced them to repent in sackcloth ;ind ashes. Our advantages and meansof improve- ment are more numerous and ample : and from those unto whom more has been given, more, doubtless, will proportionably ]>e demanded*. What number of humbled and regenerated Pa- triots the 41i^iJghty may require, to induce him, under a higher intercession, to spare the British empire, it is true, we have no revelation which informs us. Let it suffice to know that mihtiiry prowess and political wisdom are not the only means by which we may aspire, to assist in avert- ing the destructioii of our country. Not to those only, whose names stand conspicuous in the an- nals of history; w^ho engage universal attention ; whose funerals are celebrated with the pomp of sorrow^ ; and to whose memory the monuments and cenotaphs of public gratitude arej^rA/Zj/ reared ; — not to these exclusively belongs the title of general benefactors. — Fully as service^ {ible, — probably in the eye of God more ser- viceable to the community, — may be that lowly and obscure individual, who, while his name * LukCj xii. 48, r4 72 SERl^fOX IV. wa^ never heard beyond his cottage circle or his village spire, while he has no power of display- ing, in the eyes of men, the warmth of his wishes for the general safety, contributes to the national treasury his two mites, of a timely, silent, secret, unnoticed repentance : — and thus co-operates in a good labour with other peni- tents, perhaps lowly and obscure as himself, but, although scattered over all tbe land, ca- pable of combining for its deliverance, and although probably unknown to each other as to the world, enabled to make separate offerings of contrition and amendment, which all arising from different and distant places, may gather into a cloud of moral incense, of a sweet-smelling savour before God. Thus it is not impossible, that a retired, domesticated woman, a feeble youth, an unlettered peasant, rx\ abject outcast, may be an individual, whose reformation (if we may presume to state the supposition, and to use the bold expression) the Deity will regard as a completion of that number of converted and believing servants, on account of whom he will withdraw his outstretched arm of ven- geance, and convey peace to the walls and pa- laces of their Jerusalem. S7iall I riot spare Nineveh, that great city ? — / tcill not destroy it for the ninety and nines sake. And what though it be not theirs to display valour in splendid ;ichievements, and inscribe their names on thq CHRISTIAN PATRIOTISM. 73 trophies of conquest : — wl^t though their lot forbids that they shall be celebrated in the song of victory amongst the heroes, who have overwhelmed the fleets of the enemy in the deep, or pushed their own vessels on the hostile strand : — who have moved over a bridge of min- gled foes and comrades ; rushed up the steep to the open sepulchres of engines of destruction ; — and in watchings and famine, in perils by land and perils by the waters*, have purchased glory to themselves, and security to their fellow-* citizens ! These are, indeed, exploits of daring and generosity, demanding public and permanent acknowledgment : and far be it from our wishes to tear a laurel from the brows of any who have ])erformed them. But let us not place the passing splendours of the present world on a level with the glory of an inheritance w^hich fadeth not away. Will it not be more honour- able for the Christian penitent to be mentiqned in the book of life, as one of those, who havino- under the influence of divine grace, swelled the number of the faithful in Jesus, became the hidden agents of Divine Providence in savin quity ever boasted or beheld. But I now pro- ceed to observe, in the second place, 2. That to cultivate this duty, in the mannei* here recommended, is to afford the most ample scope and the most exalted gratification to a powerful natural impulse. It is natural to all men to love their country, merely because it is their country, and without any reference to its peculiar advantages*. In every region through- out the globe, however barren, and however bleak ; however tyrannous the government or miserable the people, this generous instinct is found to prevail. And it has even been re- marked, that by a wise law of nature, willing, as it would seem, that population should be dis- tributed in all quarters and districts of our earth alike, the poorer the soil, the stronger i« usually the attachment to it. None are con- * Nescio qua natale solum dulcedine captos pucit.— Ovid, ex Ponto^ lib. i. epist. 3. ver. 35. 7(> SERMON IV,. gcious of a warmer affection for their first abodes, than the inhabitants of inhospitable mountains. The Highlander of Scotland and the peasant of Switzerland cannot be naturalized in the kindliest climates : when far from home, they sicken in the midst of delights, and pine for their native wilds *\ * Of the latter it has been thus justlj aud beautiflillj cb» slMTved by ^' eertedn of our poets :'" *' Dear js that shed to which his soul conforms, " And dear that hill which lifts him from the storms ; ** And as a child, when scaring sounds molest, " Clings close and closer to the mother's breast, *' So the loud torrent, and the whirlwind's roar, ** Bat bind him tqhjs native mountains^ more.'* The celebrated Rans de Vaches*is a little air by which the inhabitants of Switzerland are so strongly affected, and when in foreign lands filled with so anxious a desire to retnrn totheir country, that in France, before the Revolution, it was not permitted to be played or sung on pain of de?Uh. '' When the Swiss soldiers chanced at any time to hear it> ihey would express their sensibility by sighs and tears, and would not unfrequently desert in the impvilse of the moment : and such as showed silent dejection, and seqrned so base a procedure, fell maityrs to their own feelings by a disease, called by medical writers Nostalgia." — Thornton's Medical Extracts, vol. iii. p. 255. Nostalgia is thus defined by Mr. Townsend ip his Tha- rapeutics : " impatience when absent from one's native home, and Tchement desire to return, attended by melancholy, loss o£ appetite^ and want cf sleep. — This disease,"' jays lie, " is CHRISTIAN PATRIOTISM. 77 When, indeed, we reflect, by what a variety of ties men are, in all lands, bound to the place of their nativity, we cannot feel at all surprised that an attachment to it should be not only uni- versally prevalent, but vigorous and glowing: for when men think or speak of their country, they think or speak of wives, ]xirents, children, friends, kindred ; they sum up in that one idea, the land where first their tongues were taught equally familiar to the Swiss and to the peasants of the Afiturias, who have quitted their native mountains, and in many cases has proved fatal." The following case of a Welch recruit is recorded by Dr. Hamilton of Ipswich, A. D. 4781 : ** This young man was of a gloomy countenance, and complained of weakness. His pulse was frequent and small : he had little appetite 5 his sleep was disturbed by starting j h& was atrophic, and his strength was so much reduced, that he could not leave his bed ; yet he had no pain, no thirst, no cough. Neither wine, cordial stimulants, nor other tonics, had tire least effect, for his pulse daily became quicker and smaller. *' Evening exacerbations, and morning sweats, succeeded j his nails became incurvated, and the tunica adnata of his eyes pellucid, attended by debility and emaciation in the extreme. '* In this situation, his sagacious physician obtained from ^he commanding officer, and communicated to his patient, a promise of a furlough for six weeks. On this promise his ap- petite and strength returned, in a few days he was able to sit lip, and in two nv»nths he left the hospital, being then per- :^^y recovered." 78t SERMON IV. to utter their Maker's praise, and their eyes to know the authors of their being*; the fieUl of their boyish sports; the school of their opening understandings; the scene of their tnanly occupations; the sacred soil of all their friendships, sympathies, and duties; the spot where those whom they esteem, reside, and those whom they have venerated, sleep; where they hope to grow old in respected toil, in the service of God and their neighbour; to repose (if God do spare them) every man under his own vine and fig-tree, in the evening of life, after having borne the heat and burden of the day ; and to be laid with their fatliers and kin- dred at the last. What wonder that a term con- nected with so many endearing associations should kindle, in the coldest bosom, all the feelings of the most ardent attachment; — that it should readily incline the selfish to liberality, the sluggish to exei1:ion, the prodigal to a cheer- ful self-denial, the soft and voluptuous to deter- mined hardship ; and all to rise up with one hand and heart in an indignant effort to repel the ingression of an invader! What wonder that the concourse and union of all these asso- * " Cari sunt parentes, cari libeii, propinqiiij familiares : »€d omnis omnium caritates patria una compJexa est." Cicero de Offic. lib. i. § 17. Homer, Odyss, lib. ix. lin. 34. CHRISTIAN PATRIOTI8]i. 7^ ciations should even countervail the evils of the worst climates and the worst governments; and urge men, though battered by tempests, and crushed by oppression, to say of their native land, " Peace be within thy walls, and prospe- rity withm thy palaces; if not for the mild- ness of thy seasons, if not for the lenience of thy rule — at least for my brethren and com- panions' sake I will now say. Peace be within thee : yea, because of the house of the Lord our God, I will seek to do thee good." Cultivate then, through all its branches, a duty, with which the compliance, far from im- posing restraint, is no more than the act of self- resignation to a delightful impulse of nature. When you subject this impulse to the holy- sway of Christianity, you give it a sober, wise, and useful direction; you strengthen all the- obligations imposed by it; and add several highly interesting and important services, which would not have presented themselves in a ■jvorldly view, to the details of obedience which it comprehends. From a passion too you con- vert it into a virtue ; and add the satisfaction of obeying it to the other pleasures of an ap- proying conscience. 3. But however strong this attachment may be found, in the breasts of mankind at large, it 80 StRMON IV. is, or ought to be, more than commoiily vigor-' ous, and productive of active exertion, in those of us, Britons : for there it is something more than an instinct, or a feehng inspired by natural ties and general associations. It is an affection for an object whose qualities are avowedly pre- eminent; and the coldest calculation of prudence and interest, aswellas the dictates of Christianity and the impulse of natural feeling, must prompt the discharge of the duties arising from it. When WE, my fellows-citizens, make mention of our country, we make honourable mention (not only of those objects of attachment which we possess in common with our whole race, but moreover) of a temperate climate and a land abun- dant in all the necessaries of life ; of a free con- stitution ; of civil liberty ; of wise and beneficial laws. We concentrate in the expression, the impartial administration of justice; trial by a jury of equals; exemption from arbitrary im- prisonment; security of property; protection of life and character. We include in the phrase, the liberty of the press : we include liberty of conscience; the freedom enjoyed by each indi- vidual of worshipping his Maker, Unmolested, in the way he prefers : so that every man of every sect may, on this day, say to Britain, in the words of the text, Because of the house of the Lord our God, I will seek to do thee good. CHRISTIAN PATRIOTISM. SI You too, my poorer brethren, have, in the country in wliich it is your lot, your happinesSj to have been born, and to dwell, peculiar rea- sons for an extraordinary patriotism. Whenever you call to mind your native land, you think of a land, in which employments are more va- rious, wages more liberal, industry fietter pro-* tected, opportunities of rising in life, and of possessing its comforts, more numerous, tlian in any other. You recollect the Bibles which you have in j^our hands; the Gospel which is made plain to you ; the good sense, the information, the title to regard, which characterize you above the poor of other nations; all proceeding from the consideration you are held in, by that valuable constitution under which you are pror tected. You summon to your remembrance your voice and influence, in the election of the Legislators of your country. You bring under your consideration a system of poor-laws, which (however deeply their extent may be regretted by some) you at least have reason to contemplate with respect, as a provision for unsuccessful industry, deserted childhood, and forlorn old age. You cause to pass before your view a long list of infirmaries, asylums, almshouses, hospitals, charity-schools ; funds for the sick, the destitute, the stranger, the insolvent debtor (and you very well know with how many other names I migbt swell this catalogue): — this is Q 82 SERM0IN7 rv. Britain ; — this is your country. I ask you, to cast your eyes over all the kingdoms of the world, and to tell me where there is any thing like such a provision for the comfort, the se- curity, the health, the education, the morals, — in one word, for the happiness of the inferior classes. It would he but mockery to ask you whether you discover a resemblance to it in any of those countries, which they who threaten to invade your territory have overrun. In these, indeed, you behold a dreadful and deplorable contrast to it. Remember then, that what you see there, is what you have to expect here, if you too do not say to your Jerusalem, to your country, by giving her the warmest of your good wishes, and the most strenuous of your active exertions. Peace be within thy walls, and prosperity within thy palaces. To draw towards a conclusion : — While all these considerations should powerfully induce us to love our native land, and to offer to it the various services of civil and military obedi- ence, of fidelity in the payment of tribute, of prayer, and of repentance, — we ought not, at any time, to forget that we are disciples of that Gospel, whose chief ornament and jewel is cha- rity; and as such, bound, while we reserve our. patriotism, not to overlook the still more im- perious, though not incompatible, duty of uni- 4 CHRISTIAN PATRIOTIS:\r. 83 versal benevolence. The most enlightened nations of anti(|uity pushed their patriotism to an illiberal extent : they excluded foreign- ers from ANY share in their affections; they termed all nations, except their own, bar- barians ; and they treated them as they termed them. Their national animosities were not less violent than their patriotic attachments; they were as inveterate in hating their enemies, as impassioned in loving their fellow-citizens. And a regard for truth compels us to add, that a portion of this narrow spirit seems to have been an ingredient in that Jewish ignorance which God winked at, until the fulness of times should arrive*. Our blessed Saviour came into the world, to manifest his equal love for all mankind; and to recommend to them (not the same, for that would be impracticable, but) a similar philan- thropy. The rule laid down in the Gospel has respect to our condition, as beings living in the midst of wickedness and injustice, and permitted to exert some efforts of defence and resistance; since without these, our life would be a state of oppression and misery, which a merciful God could not design to be endured by his servants in return for their fidelity. The precepts enjoin- ing peace are accordingly, all of them, qualified * Acts, XV ii. 30. ft S ^4 SERMON IV. with reference to this condition. If it he pos- sible^ and as much as licth in you, live peaceably with all men *. The defence of our country, then, against puhlic hostility, is as allowable as the defence of our property against private robbery. And when it is considered, that all the signal actions, either by sea or land, which have of late years adoi'iied the pages of our history, may be re- garded as defensive ; however we may deplore the fates of the fallen, with whatever lamenta- tion we may consecrate the memories of an Abercrombie, a Nelson, and a IMoore; we can no more condenni as Christians, than we can grudge as Britons, the blood which they have pouted out for our security. Yet we must not stretch, even in our ideas, the animosities, or the inflictions; of warfare, further than is ne- cessary for defence. Our most relentless ene- mies, have a claim upon our good offices. If tiiine enemy hunger^ feed him ; if he thirst, give him drink. I desire, my brethren, to leave this maxim upon your minds, as applicable, not only to your private differences, but to your be- haviour or sentiments with regard to all those, with whom you may at any time be engaged in war. Pray for their repentance ; and, as far ■* Rom. xii. 18. CHRISTIAN PATRIOTISM. S5 as Is consistent with self-preservation, contri- bute to. their welfare. Thus far may you be citizens of the world : for be assured, that any wlio bid you assume that character, and stifle within your breasts all predilection whatever for your own land, are wild enthusiasts, or, perhaps, partizans of your enemies. But to the extent which we have de- lineated, it is quite consistent with, nay, it is a part of a Christian love of your country, to re- gard all mankind as compatriots of the Jerusa- lem which is above. And to this extent, as disciples of Christ, you may rightly say unto them, your fellow-disciples, Because of the house of the Lord^ our common Goclj I will seek to do you good. Finally : — In fulfilling our patriotic duties, let ns ever anxiously beware of a spirit of worldly- mindedness ; — of an immoderate attachment to our political advantages ; — or indeed to any ad- vantages of the present transitory scene. While guarding and appreciating, as we ought, our birthright of national freedom, be it our chief care to secure our adoption as the sons of God, and to stand f ant in that hcttey^ lihcrty^ wherewith Christ hath made us free. Let our affections be MAINLY FIXED on that ctcmal home, which is, properly speaking. Tin: countky cf Christian c S S6 sER^roN IV. worshippers. Let us ever strive to conduct ourselves in the world as not forgetful that we have a more glorious fellow-citizenship with the saints on iiigh ; as conscious that on the earth we are but strangers and pilgrims, on whom it is incumbent to do all with acontii]ual reference to the Canaan, whither we are going ; as con- sidering, in a word, " that we have here no continuing city," or country, " but that we seek one to come ^.*' * Peb. xitU 14, b7 SERMON V. ON A DEFECTIVE SERVICE OF GOD. ST. LUKE, CHAP. XYIII. PART OF VERSE 2C. Yet lackest thou one thing. The Gospel, in tendering salvation to mankind, has distinctly specified and stipulated certain conditions, which it is necessary that all those should strictly fulfil, who seek to obtain that in- estimable gift. Whatever, therefore, falls short of compliance with this stipulation, must needs be an idle beating of the air; or, at best, can afford no assurance, no reasonable hope, of its conduciveness to everlasting happiness. And wherever there are any, (may it not be too justly feared, that in most assemblies of nominal Christians there are not a few^?) who content jthemselves with such defective service, it be- comes the indispensable, however unwelcome, office of their public instructor, to disturb them amidst the slumber of their false security, by taking up his parable, and repeating in their ears the doctrine contained in the few significant words, Yet lackest thou one th'uig, ber judgment, I am confident you will regard such temptations as insignificant; and unmoved by i3 Il6 SERMON Vr. any of these things — yea, counting not your lives to be dear unto yourselves, so that you may finish your course with joy * — you will surely deteiniine not to be weary in well-doing '\ : since you know, (consolatory and blessed as- surance !) that, in due time, ye shall enjoy, if ye faint not % ; that he who endnreth unio the end shall be saved ; and that although your remune- ration be withheld for a season — for the whole brief season of the present existence — your Judo-e will certainly at the last arise, to vindi- cate his providence, to avenge his elect \, to execute and administer strict justice upon the earth, and to deal out to the faithful that ample recompense, which it is surely worth suf- fering and resisting far more, than they have ever been tried with, to receive, But still further : — perseverance implies pro- gression. Not to go forward, says the pro- verb, is to fall back. Diligence is not only to be persisted in, but to be quickened : for our Lord, we know, has commanded his dis- ciples to go on^ from strength to strength ||. Not halting, while any part of the course remiains untraveised; satislied with no attain- ment while there is higher excellence in view; net misl-iking a stage in the way of righteousness for the goal ; let the followers of • Acts, XX. 24. I Gal. vi. 9. J Matt. x. 22t. \ Lake, xviii. 7. \\ Psalm Ixxxiv. 7. THE CHRISTIAN RACE. 117 Jesus study to regard the grave as the only resting-place allowed to their feet. Let them not account themselves to have already at- tabled, either to be already perfect^ : but this one tiling let them do — forgetting, as insig- nificant, the attainments in obedience wliich are behind, and aspiring to the heights wliich remain unclimbed — looking forward to the immeasurable distance which still remains be- twixt their imperfect holiness and the standard of their duty, let them piess towards the mark for the prize — a prize how glorious! — even the high calling of God in Christ Jesus t . Be thou faithful, and advance in holiness unto deaths and I will give thee a croivn of life J. How just, and yet how humiliating, is the scriptural observation, that the children of the present world arc wiser in their generation than the children of light ! These require not that any one should admonish them, so to run that they may obtain. Whether their object be wealth, or power, or fame, they place it, and they hold it steadily, before their view. It is the darling wish of their inmost soids; the cherished theme of all their secret nuisings : to remember it, is the thrilling of their nerves ; to compass it, the torture of their fancy. It visits them with the earliest gleam of dawn ; it mingles with them • Phil. iii. 12. f P^'*- »»• ^^' t ^«v. U. 10. I 3 1 1 8 Sermon vi. in the crowd ; it attends them to the shade of sohtude ; it rises to their conception, when they fold their eyes in shimber. They pant after it with unabated ardour; they pursue it with un- wearied dihgence. Thus they are continually running their race : and of their crown — poor and worthless as it is — they lose not sight for a moment. To how much self-denial, to how many inconveniencies do they subject them- selves ! Some, on the world's service, will tra- verse half the globe ; will encounter the rough- est storms and perils of the ocean, and brave the trying vicissitudes of various climates : — some cheerfully submit to mean and servile of- fices ; while ethers waste their health by mid- night application. But however different the paths pursued, hov/ever various the ends desired, the observer may mark all to be feelingly alive, all eagerly advancing. No probable means of success in their respective views are left un- tried. No obstacles, no diificulties, no dangers intimidate them_ : the distance of their reward serves to quicken their exertion ; the apprehen- sion of failure adds interest to the object ; they break through all tlie barriers of resistaiice, and rise with fresh vigour from every disappoint- ment. Now, the sons of ambition, the children of the present world, will do all this for the pitiful THE CHTUSTIAN RACE. 119 sake of obtaining — a corruptible crown, a pe- rishable possession, a bursting bubble; while we — strange infatuated beings— take no such pains (far less pains indeed are required of us) to obtain a crown that is incorruptible, as it is splendid. The objects for which they strive nia}^ not perhaps be attained, after all their fond anxieties, their watchings, and their labours: and if attained, may aftbrd tliem but trifling satisfaction — at best, can yield satisfac- tion only for a little while ; for they all partake of the fashion of that world, which we know is itself passing away. Shall they then, who propose to themselves in their earthly course an uncertain, trivial, transitory happiness, exhibit a stricter self-denial, a severer self-command, a more unwearied perseverance, than we display — WE, who are toiling after a sure, unsullied^ unspeakable, eternal recompense? Shall men^ whose insignificant toy of desire is some worldly advantage, some low and fleeting enjoyment, manifest higher wisdom in adapting their means to their ends, than we who seek for glory, and honour, and immortality? Do we read that the combatants in a Pagan race subjected them- selves for a length of time to many and great inconveniencies, and all to grasp a withering reward, and a short-lived applause— a reward and an applause which many of them might i4 120 SERMON VI. lose, and which only one could in the end ob- tain; — and can we endure to think that no sa- crifice of inclination, no exertion of virtue, shall be tendered to Heaven by those who run the Christian course; where the multitude of spectators, the cloud of witnesses, is vast and honourable; where God himself presides in their assembly; where not one, but all, who run may be victorious ; where our fellow-combat- ants are saints destined to eternity ; and where the contest is not (as in an earthly race) a trial of jealousy, but a delightful rivalship of mu- tual endearment and reciprocal help ; a courses "where the very act of running has its plea- sures; where the honour of success is incon- ceivable; the shame and the pain attending failure dreadful; where the prize can be con- tended for no more than once ; and where that prize is an inheritance that fadeth not away ? Never let so reproachful an imputation be al- leged. From those children of the Pagan world, who ran over an earthly course, let us learn so to run, that we may obtain. Let us deeply weigh those animating encouragements to the ardent and steady prosecution of our object, which to us are vouchsafed, but of which they were wholly destitute. Let us look wito Jesus, the author and Jinisher of our faith *' — that ♦ Heb. xii. 2, THE CHRISTIAN RACE. 121 "Master who hath trodden the way before us— who knew and sustained all its difficulties and toils, enduring the cross y despising the pain*. Let us remember and imitate Him who bore so much, and so gloriously taught his followers to endure, whenever in tlieir advancement they slacken their pace, or begin to he faint and weary in their minds f. Let us rejoice to think, that by the intelligence which he imparted, and through the sufferings which he endured, we are now certified, that we so Jight^ not as one idly beating the air ; and that we rim, not as uncertainly^, with regard to our view of vic- tory. Above all, let us gather animation in our course, from reflecting, that he hath pro- vided, in the gracious and potent influences of his Spirit (influences and aids of which they who strove in Pagan games, and who lived in the Pagan world, were utterly unacquainted), nerves to our weakness, spirits to our weari- ness, vigour to our resolution, help to our per- severance, and encouragement to our fears of failure. If happily we run, relying on his all- sufhciency, in having purchased our glorious recompense, and imploring to be succoured by his might in the inner man — not forgetting, at the same time, to put forth with eagerness our owTi strength — then shall we so run as certainly to obtain : for we are able to do all things * Heb, xii. 2. f Heb. xU. 3. i I Cor. ix. 20, 122 SERMON Vl. through Christ, which strengtheneth^ ; and we shall be conquerors in the race that is set before us. Yes; I but repeat the venerable language of Scripture : — JVe shall be more than conquerors through Him which loved us]'. Like the combatants of old, the unwearied disciple of Christ accelerates liis speed, and re- doubles his diligence, as the space to be tra- versed becomes more and more contracted, and as the time allotted for journeying is further advanced. As he proceeds towards the goal, he obtains a closer, and a more distinct view of his ample reward. This recruits his fainting spirits. It stimulates his weariness to collect his remaining strength, and to throv/ it into the last exertion. And now the victor, termi- nating his career, is received by an innumerable company of fellow-citizens on high. The vault of heaven rings with shouts and acclamations, sent up by the spirits of just men made per- fect; while angels stand, all ready with their palms, to proclaim his name, and to celebrate his praises. It is Jinished X - — his course is Jinished with joy §. I hear the cry of triumph, and the welcome of congratulation. lie reaches the last line ||. He is comforted and recom- * Phil. iv. 13. f Rom. viii. 37. % John, xlx. 30. \ Acts, XX. 24. tl " Mors ultima linea rerum est :" — ^a phrase deriving its beauty from the allusion to that line which was drawn acrosf the extremity of the race-course. THE CHRISTIAN RACE. 123 pensed with the approving Well done *, pro- nounced by the Judge and Remunerator of his toils. Lo! the garland of immortality has dropped at his feet: and he rests for ever from his labours. * Matt. XXV. 21. SERMON VII. On the right government of thought. PSALM CXXXIX. VERSE 23. Search me, O God, and know my heart ; try me, and know my thoughts. xxuiMAN legislators being incompetent to ob- serve what passes in the dark and secret recesses of the breast, their enactments relate cnl}^ to actual injuries, to ostensible denionstrations of iniquity. God, discerning the heart of man, estabhshes laws which take cognizance of his thoughts. Nothing, indeed, can possibly ex- hibit the divine purity in a clearer or more striking light, than the condenuiaticn of those faint suggestions of evil, which so frequently, like clouds, pass over the imagination. It shows (and in doing so, should abase that pre- sumptuous virtue which boasts of a faultless i:xTERNAL conduct) that only a conception of sinfulness, though it die awa}^ in the heart which has entertained it, and never be embo- died in substantial transgression, is accounted by Heaven to be defiling to the soul, and is ob- noxious to the displeasure of immaculate Holi- ness. Nor does the wisdom of the Deity, in 4 ON THE RIGHT GOVERNMENT OF THOUGHT. 125 siicli an appointment, appear less conspicuous than his purity. So refined a view of duty en- ables us to satisfy our minds, that we act from motives of genuiuc piety. If we confmedour caution to our actions alone, we might have cause to doubt, whether the love of human approbation were not, exclusively, our incen- tive to righteous conduct. By exercising *a jealous control over thought, which to the eye of man is invisible, Ave learn that we are not deceived in supposing the love and fear of the Almighty to possess and to sway our miuds. Besides, since thought is the spring of action; since evil, when it hath conceivedy hringeth forth sin'^ ; since whatsoever is guilty in con- duct, originated in depravity of intention; to watch and to purify thought and intention, is the more eifectually to prevent the existeiice of crimes, and to secure innocence of living. Prin- ciple is thus surrounded with an additional fence, against the assaults of its wily enemy. Temptation is removed to a more secure dis- tance, than if it were suffered to take quiet pos- session of the affections, and we were only warned to beware of its breaking out in the conduct. We can crush it more easily by going forth to the encounter while it is yet afar off, than by tamely waiting for its nearer encroach- ments. Prudence makes sure its retreat from the storm, in calling for its chariot, when the * James, i. if. 125 SERMON VII. rising cloud appears to be no bigger than a man's hand *. Evil cherished in the fancy ga- thers strength from indulgence, and may soon become almost too powerful for resistance. A slight exertion might have strangled it in the cradle : but, despised in its infancy, it grows up into a formidable opponent. The Father of spirits having, for these wise reasons, commanded us to carry back the con- trol of self-government from the actions to their source, you will allow it to be material that we should know precisely, what thoughts deserve to be pronounced criminal, and how such as bear that character may be best avoided. From the variety of improper and prohibited conceptions which may lodge in the capacious storehouse of the human breast, and of which the attempt were fruitless to exhibit a com- plete enumeration, we may place at the head of our present selection, those which are the off- spring of idleness : — thoughts not fixed upou any determinate subject, but roving about as chance or caprice directs. Such a loose current of our ideas deserves to be guarded against,— not only as idleness in every shape is culpable, but further, as conscience knows full well, that when the mind is thus left unsettled and wan- dering, rarely do the vigilance and malevolence * I Kings, xviii. 44. ON THE RIGHT GOVERNMENT OF THOUGHT. 127 of our spiritual adversary fail to furnish a topic which shall fix its meditations: while his i?ssaults are here the more to he dreaded, as from the negative criminality of musings sim- ply idle, his approach may perhaps be the less suspected. Equally censurable with idle meditations, are such as are occupied upon frivolous subjects* By these, much valuable time is squandered ;— talents, for the use of which we are accountable, are misapplied; — and the mind is sunk in a habit of languor and softness, which destroys all its relish for manly occupation, unfits it for active and useful exertion, and disposes it to voluptuousness, with its train of attendant evils. Allied to idle and frivolous conceptions, are those that are stamped with the character of mniiij. When our secret reflections are per- mitted by us to turn upon an admiration of our own real or fancied good qualities ; when our minds silently swell with a notion of personal superiority, it is not to be questioned that we are then included in the censure addressed by the Prophet of old to Jerusalem : — IFash th^ heart from wickedness ; how long shall thy vaw ^Iwughts lodge within thee * f 128 SERMON VII. In particular, my fellow-worshippers, I would beseech you to recollect, that the Pharisaical self-gratulation here condemned assumes its very worst character, when it relates to the possession of any religious or moral pre-emi- nence : since it then too frequently speaks the language of self-deceit ; gs when a man esteems himself someikhig, uheji he is notJiing'^ : always that of unchristian presumption ; for hewho think- eth he standethj ought to take heed lest he fall '\, Proud schemes of future cxaltatwn form as improper a theme for the ponderings of thought, as a sense of present excellence. For although it be prudent, and proper, within reasonable limits, to consider what improvements our con- dition is capable of, yet those aspiring, wild, ambitious views, Avhich dissatisfy us with our lot, look high above our sphere, see happiness no where but in the possession of exorbitant wealth or power, and are continually em. ployed in forming projects for the attainment of them, — you can be at no loss to see — are most widely different from an humble, and on that account a laudable, or allowable, desire of rising in life from poverty to worldly comfort, or from inutility to the power of distributing benefi- cence. Lord^ said David, my heart is not haughty : — neither do I ej^eixise myself in great matters y or in things too high for me %, • Gal. vi. 3. t 1 Cor. x. 12. J Psalm cxxxi. 1. ON THE RIGHT GOVERNMENT OF THOUGHT. 129 A similar line will be drawn by the disciple of Christ betwixt wise forethought and immo- derate concern about the morrow. That man has read his Bible to but Httle purpose, w^io re- gards it as inculcating a lesson of improvidence. Consider the approaching hour: — take precau- tion against the evil day : — this is, even in a temporal sense, the mandate of Christianity, not less than the maxim of worldly prudence: "—for if any man provide not for his own housCy he hath denied the faith, and is xvoi^se than an in- fidel"^. But when we have made our reasonable arrangements of sagacity, and of diligence, we have there reached the utmost limit of duty : — - we err, and we rebel, in disquieting our minds with anxious or boding apprehensions as to the issue ; which ought ever to be left, with the most implicit confidence, in the hands of the all-wise Disposer of events. As the heir of immortality must not busy his thoughts in looking up to the pinnacles of greatness, so, if fortune have placed him there, he will not less sedulously avoid supercilious musings, with reference to those beneath him. Contemptuousness, though latent in the spirit, is forbidden. Not only the high look, but the proud heart, is sin t. * 1 Tina. v. 8. f Prov. xxi. 4. 130 SEliMON vir. If it be unlawful to despise, it must neces- sarily be still more sinful to hate our brother, in imagination. At all times let us study, therefore, with religious care, to deliver our breasts from malignant trains of thinking, in their various shades of envy, hatred, or resent- ment. Truly they are a legion of evil spirits : and the voice of resolute faith must charge them, in the name of Jesus of Nazareth, that they come forth. Charity not only inflicteth — she thinketh no evil *. The love of God, like brotherly love, ought to exist, by itself, as a principle in the hearty in entire abstraction from any reference to the . conduct. In this view, as malice violates our love towards man, irpining is not less at vari- ance with that higher affection, which is due to the Almighty Governor. Both, as offences of the heart, are of serious magnitude; though the former should never issue forth in an injury, or the latter be heard in an audible murmur. — When smarting, therefore, under affliction, sup- press, my Christian hearers, all those rebellious stirrings within the soul, which though but in conception, rashly arraign the goodness, or pre- sume to call in question the superintendence^ of God. * I Cor. xiii. 5. ox THE RIGHT GOVERNMENT OF THOUGHT. 131 You need hardly be reminded in how clear ^nd forcible language ^voluptuous conceptions are reprobated in the Gospel, as tainting to the purity of the soul. Ye have heard that it hath been said by them of old time, Thou shall not commit adultery : but I say unto you, there is an adultery of the heart. Let it next be observed, that conduct un- lawful in itself, may reiterate its original sin- fulness in 7rcollection : — as when, a long time after trespasses have been committed, we sum- mon back their shades by the magic of a de- praved mind ; and endeavour, as it were, once more, in fancy, to realize the recalled illusions. Though, from age, poverty, or other change of circumstance, they be now happily no longer perpetrated, nevertheless, when thus ideally cherished, it is by no means safe, indeed it is most presumptuous, to rest satisfied that they are entirely forsaken. If they were forsaken, they would be forgotten too ; — or if recollected, recollected only with remorse. To a conscience of any delicacy it must, in like manner, be evident, that there is a parti- cular guilt of forecast, as well as of recollec- tion ; and this, apart from its sinfulness, in leading to the offence anticipated. A mind K 2 ISO, SERMOX VIL which delights in transporting itself into the future, and in revelling among vicious joys, t© the possession of which it looks forward, cannot with good reason compliment itself upon its spotlessness, should accident, or even should compunction intervene, to prevent the actual gratification of its malignant wishes, or its irregular appetites. Once more : thoughts, innocent in themselves, become censurable when cherished at improper times or seasons. Thus it may be extremely laudable to direct reflection, when no more im- portant interest urges, to the concerns of busi- ness, the arrangement of our household, the otiices of civility, or the ties of friendship. But if such topics of meditation intrude them- selves, and are welcomed, in the temple of re- ligion, or during any sacred exercise ; if, while pur w^hole souls should be engrossed by the one thing needful, we are careful and troubled about domestic occupations; if, when we are sup- posed to be purchasing the pearl of great price, we are in fancy buying and selling earthly mer- chandise; if, in the hour when we are admitted to high converse with our God, we are in some distant land, conversing with an absent rela- tive, then have we truly desecrated the house of prayer, and converted it into a market-place of worldlings. ON THE RIGHT TiOVERNMENT OF THOUGHT. 133 I am aware that all these various trains of reflection here recounted, will rush unbidden into the best-regulated mind. I am aware how weak is human nature, though the spirit, the inclination, be ever so willing. Whatever is thus involuntary, I trust in the goodness of God, and I think I may with safety venture to assure you, will not be charged to your final account Evil, says our great poet, in a bold expression, though somewhat too darjng when applied in the same sense to the Divinity as to his crea^ tures — Evil into the heart of God or man May come and go, so unapprov'd j and leave No spot or blame behind. The sum of our duty, in a single word, with respect to all such unholy inmates of the breast, is not to invite, — and if they have entered, self- invited, not to harbour them. It is nevertheless incumbent on us to be ex** tremely well assured, that the thoughts which we presume will be blotted from our offences, are actually, and in all respects, involuntary :— - and this caution I would most earnestly press, my friends, on your attention, since here, more perhaps than under any other circumstances, the mind is apt to practise much self-delusion. If our ordinary conduct flow on in a curreiU k3 134 SERMON VII. that is favourable to evil thoughts — if they find entrance, through our culpable neglect of those precautions which religion and reason prescribe — in this case, though wholly unsolicited at the time, though unapproved, and though even re- jected on their entrance, such thoughts are by no means to be classed amongst those, in which the will has no concern or power whatsoever, or to be excused as altogether unavoidable. When the thief, however uninvited and however resisted, has entered, while we slumbered, into our house ; to say we were without suspicion or fear, affords but a feeble apology for our negli- gence in having failed to secure our door with a bolt. Evil habits are incentives to evil medi- tations; and all who indulge in them are ac- countable for their natural consequences, how- ever far it may have been from their intention or wish, to involve themselves in these conse- quences. Thus then, put in possession of a list of cri- minal thoughts, from which the mind is inte- rested in keeping itself free, we only now re- quire a few plain directions calculated to assist us in that pious exercise. 1. One expedient which, I think, will very greatly contribute to the preservation of inter- nal purity, is the habit of taking frequent cog- nizance of our thoughts; of arresting these ON THE RIGHT GOVERNMENT OF THOUGHT. 13.^ noiseless travellers in their course, and ques- tioning them as to their ultimate destination. Often let us turn our observation inwards, that we may mark what is there silently passing; WHAT conceptions are contemplated by us with fondness ; what schemes are in rehearsal for the great theatre of action. Let us ask ourselves, whether the thought on which we may happen to be brooding be not one suggested by our spiritual adversary, with a view to our eternal ruin. If it be further indulged, to w^hat will it lead? Is it dishonourable to God? — is it sully- ing to purity ? — is it unworthy of our dignity, or injurious to our hopes, as candidates for im- mortal life? Has it a tendency to produce, in any meavsure, detriment to our neighbour ? Is it such as we should be ashamed of, if it were exposed to public view? And if, in replying to such interrogatories, we stand self- convicted, shall we not hasten to separate ourselves from so dangerous an inmate? By thus sitting fre^ quently in judgment over our own minds, we shall be enabled to guard the avenues of tempt- ation — to detect, and to quell, in their earliest appearance, the rebellious n;iovements of irre- gular reflection. Q>, To avoid whatever conduces to the taint- ing of the thoughts, may be recommended as an axlditional measure of prudence, Here \y^ K 4 136' SERMON vir. may resign ourselves with safety to the di- rection of that sage and unerring guide, expe- rience. Ahnost all persons know, from recol- lection of the past, what conduct it will now be their wisdom to adopt, with a view to their internal purity in time to come. Attention to this hint is so much the more necessary, as, in- dependently of it, on the present head, no comprehensive general direction for the regula- tion of the thoughts can be prescribed, that shall be suitable to all the varieties of human cha- racter and disposition. There are amusements which may tarnish the purity of one mind, and soften the constitutional asperity of another. Evil thoughts may take possession of one breast in the deepest seclusion of solitude, and of another in the haunts of mirthful society. Let every one cultivate an acquaintance with his own character, that he may avoid such scenes, studies, recreations, and associates, as he finds or suspects that he cannot attach himself ta, without opening a door to the entrance of evil imaginations, or of loose affections, into his breast. Some circumstances, indeed, are of a less doubtful cast, and may be condemned and prohibited as universally dangerous. A mind depraved, for example, by inactive, by con- tentious, or by sensual habits of living, will necessarily be a storehouse of imaginations that mx evil continually*. As the thoughts affect ♦ Gen. vi. J. ON THE RIGHT GOVERNMENT OF THOUGHT. 137 the conduct, the conduct in such a case, it has above been sliown, can hardly fail to impart a colour to the thoughts. External impropriety of speech, of attire, of behaviour, we may rest assured, is incompatible with inward spotless- ness. If it proceed not from mental depravity as a cause, it will infldlibly produce that dis- position as its consequence. 3. While our duty demands that we diligently seek to avoid all such tendencies to improper trains of thinking, with equal sedulousness is it proper for us to court whatever encourages and fosters innocent and virtuous musings. Employment, contentment, benevolence, peacefulness ; — a selection of harmless amuse- ments and upright associates, constitute, if I may so speak, a company of good spirits, which keep watch around the integrity and purity of the heart. Since, whatever be the objects of our ordinary search, on these will our thoughts be the most prone to dwell; — or, in the lani- guage of Scripture, since wherever the treasure is, there naturally will the heart be also ^, it must be of the utmost consequence to the regulation of the thoughts that we study to lay up for ourselves treasures in heaven — that we establish in our minds a determined and an habitual pre- dilection for things above. Learning to asso- * Matt. vi. 21. 12^ SERMON VII. ciate with our idea of sin, whatever is odious, hiean, ungrateful, and dangerous, and to regard the low pleasures and toils of the present life as unworthy the dignity and destination of im- mortal beings, our souls will but rarely recur to subjects which we shall have thus previously painted and held up to the eye of our minds in their native colours of deformity or degrada- tion. When a concern for the soul, a love of obedience, and a fervent zeal for the divine glory, have been fixed as ruling passions, as paramount principles, in the breast, our musings will as naturally, because with as much fond- ness, find the way to whatsoever th'nigs are true^ honesty just^ lovely, and of good report *, as those of the worldly-minded will wander to the honours of ambition, the pleasures of seur sualitv, or the hoards of avarice. 4. Tlie grand and important secret, however, for attaining a right control over the thoughts, and that without attention to which all other measures are nugatory, is intercourse with God. To him it is supremely necessary that wc should learn to look up, as to the great and continually-present Inspector of the thoughts. He is called by David, in his dying admonition to Solomon, the Lord zcho searcheth all hearts, ^Jid widerstandeth all the maginatiom of tha ♦ Phil. iv. 8. ON TUE RIGHT GOVERNMENT OF THOUGHT. 139 tlwKghts*, And the Apostle to the Hebrews writes, The word of God is quick, a disccnier of ike thoughts and intents of the heart ; — all things are naked and open unto the eye of Him with whom we ham to do'\. Thus He with wliom we have to do spieth the germ of evil, before it is evolved into actual offence ; and traces the whole rise and progress of its growth, from a thought to a desire, a desire to a stronger inclination, an inclination to a resolve ripe for mischief. It is right also to remember, that all which he thus seeth, he will most assuredly call into the strictest judgment. This purpose of God to bring every secret device, and every imagina- tion, before his tribunal of righteousness, was fully declared on the earliest appearance on earth, of Him whom he hath constituted the judge. This child is set for the fall and risi^ig again of many in Israel, that the thoughts of many hearts may be yxvealedX. These notions concerning the Almighty, and the Son whom he hath sent, seem well adapted, if rendered familiar in the breast, not only to preserve it from the intrusion of evil concep- tions, but to expel them, if, through human infirmity, they have found entrance : — casting dozen imaginations, and bringing into captivity every thought §. * 1 Chron. xxviii. g. f Heb. iv. 12. t Luke^ ii. 35. 5 2- Cor. x. $, 140 SERMON VII. Still further benefit will accrue to the Chris- tian, from accustoming himself to consider the lieart as the residence of God. if any man de-^ file the temple of God, him shall God destroy ; — • for the temple of God is holy, which temple ye are ; ^-for the Spirit of God dwelleth in you *. If the august Spirit of God hath most graciously vouchsafed to offer himself as the inhabitant of our breasts, awe, gratitude, interest, must all conspire in prompting us to prepare for him a clean and a garnished house. It cannot be pre- sumed that he will deign to make his continu* ing abode amidst impurity, pride, malice, or covetousness : or even if it could, shall not Some marks of reverence be deemed due to the most dignified of all superiors? This, I think, is of itself a consideration sufficiently powerful to incite us to make all things ready within, for the reception of so honourable a guest. Above all, let us avail ourselves of the high and glorious privilege to which God hath ad- mitted us — that of approaching him in prayer. By this exercise we refine and purjfy our nature; exalt it above the attractions of sense, and the allurements of life ; we establish a correspondr ence with the spiritual world, and rise to the throne of excellence and the fountain of light In such ascents we imbibe the spirit of the ^ \ Cor. iii. 1^, If. ON THE RI6HT GOVERNMENT OF THOUGHT. 141 higliest heavens. The thoughts are subUmatei We become holy as our Father is holy. The chief benefit, however, to be expected from devotion, is that energetic succour from above which it will procure, to second, or to render efficacious, our humble endeavours for establishing our hearts in innocence. Let us be- seech our heavenly Father to fortify our breasts with this highly needful and valuable affusion, to enter into our souls, and to visit his temple; —to cleanse the thoughts of our hearts by the inspiration of his holy Spirit, that we may perfectly love him, and worthily magnify his mighty name ; adoring him by inward purity, as well as by inoffensiveness of conduct, through Jesus Christ our Lord, and our Redeemer,— Amen. 142 SERMON VIII. THE FALL OF THE LEAF: A SERMON FOR THE BEGINNING OF WINTER. ISAIAH, CHAP. LXIV. PART OF VERSE 6. lie all do Jade as a leaf. It is an art peculiar to the religious and reflect- ing mind, to ennoble, by its touch, the most common objects and trivial occurrences :— and while these, to the vulgar and the worldly, fur- nish only occasions of idle pleasure, or of stupid admiration, to convert them into lessons, of improvement, and to elevate them into means of grace. When, at the present declining season of the year, we observe the striking changes produced in the vegetable kingdom ; when the dispersed and withered leaves of autumn strew almost every step of our way, the mournful reflection suggested to the holy Prophet must deeply affect the breasts of the serious, though it can hardly fail, we may reasonably presume, to make some impression, even on the more unthinking : W^ all do jade as a leaf 2 THE FALL OF THE LEAF. 14S Sad indeed, but usefid, are the meditations arising from a view of this comparison; solemn, but important, the lecture which it delivers. Let us prepare our minds for a short attention to it. If, from so trifling an incident as the scattering of the foliage, we can extract any sentiments likely to prove serviceable to our spirits, we may indeed be said to possess that disposition which discovers a tongue in every leaf, a moral in every object of creation, or, to employ a far more awful and impressive lan- guage, which hears the "voice of the Lord God walking cmiongst the trees in the great garden of nature*. I shall, with due simplicity, consider the few words which are to constitute the present theme of discourse, as applicable to our /-eligion, to our prosperity^ and to our Ums. 1. And first, itm.ay, with, too much truth, be affirmed, that the RELIG lOlS^ of mani/ does fode away as a leaf. This point of the comparison will, no doubt, appear to you to be established on a remote and fanciful allusion : but I have thought proper to place it in the beginning of the com- ment, as it seems, from the context, to havq been the original idea which occupied the mind of the Prophet himself. Attend to his owa * Genesis^ iii. S. 144 SERMON viir. words : — JVe all do fade as a leaf, and our 'ml- quities, like the zcind, have taken us axvaij: and there is none that calleth upon thy 7iamey that stirreth himself to take hold of thee. On high fes- tivals, and at particular seasons, we entertain and profess a warm love towards God, a fer- vent and an honourable zeal for his law; and we then form earnest resolutions of labouring, with unshaken perseverance, and wdth strict devotion, in the Christian life. To such pur- poses we remain firm for a brief season; and may at that time be compared to the full-grown, and goodly cedar, whose boughs are spread over Lebanon, and whose top aspires to heaven. This happy condition, however, is of no long continuance. Our returning iniquities, to use the words of the Prophet, take us, like the wind, away from it, a7id we all do fade as a leaf Our better resolutions wax feeble, and drop away. The chill winter of our devotion soon approaches ; and our coldness and falling away from God, and from our better purposes, is first and chiefly marked by a neglect of prayer. The7^e is 7ione, adds Isaiah, that calleth upon thy 7ia7ne : none so earnestly colicerned for the well-being of his im- mortal soul, as to perceive and to recognize the necessity of his imploring for pardon and grace. Or, if supplication be performed, it is ofiered with indifference : 7io one stikueth himself t9 THE FALL OF THE LEAF* 14f5 make application to Gody by undoubting faith, en- tire repentance^ fervent devotion^ and unwearied perseverance. Our pious alFections, in a word, are gradually cooled by intercourse with a selfish and sensual world, till too often they at length become altogether lifeless, as the dry and withered leaves of the departing year. 2. With equally little play of the imagina- tion, may it next be observed, as a still more general truth, that pur prosperity doth fade as a leaf. One day the son of man finds himself high in health, and fortunate in his worldly condition ; numbering about his table a flou- rishing family ; surrounded by attached, and, as he imagines, by unfailing friends. He per- ceives, with complacency, that he has risen, like the gradual springing up of a tree, by slow advances, and after much endurance, to some little eminence of terrestrial felicity. Smiling and satisfied, he looks around him upon his state, and fancies it to be established beyond the reach of accident. He promises to himself A secure and permanent enjoyment of it, in unbroken ease, and unruffled tranquillity. But, alas ! while he is thus rejoicing in his lot, and .encouraging his soul to take its fill of mirth ,* at the time when he is flourishing like the greeri tfy tree*, and bearing all his bp]Qpuxs thick * Psalm xxxvii. 35. L 146 SERMON Vllt. about his head; while his root is spread upoft the waters, and the dew lies all night upon his branch*, — an unexpected storm of adversity strips him of his pride; losses deprive him of his abundance ; some member of his family de- parts from the paths of virtue ; health declines ; friends are taken away : — IVe all do Jade as a leaf, 5. By far the most obvious comparison, however, suggested by the w^ords of the text, and not less by the present surrounding appear- ances of nature, relates to the termination of human existence. As of the green leaves on a thick tree, says the Wise Man, some fall and some grew, so is the generation of flesh and blood ; one Cometh to an end, and another is born'\. I do not here stop to direct attention to those rough and untimely vicissitudes of atmosphere, which so often disappoint the promises of spring, or lay low the pride of a more advanced season ; although a parallel might well be drawn betwixt these occurrences, and the accidents which arrest youth and manhood in their course; and a warning deduced to youth and manhood, on the precariousness of their hopes of life. I likewise forbear to take more than a passing notice of that thinly-scattered, yet, itself, brown and fading part of the foliage, w^hich * Job, xxix. 19. t Eccles. xir. 18. THE FALL OF THE LEAF. 147 survives the first rough breath of winter, while all the ground beneath is covered with a waste of leaves ; an appearance which might, without impropriety, be compared to those persons far advanced in years, who, although awfully warned by aches, and feebleness, and decrepi- tude, the sure intimations and monitors of ap- proaching dissolution ; — though perceiving that numbers of their contemporaries have been laid low, and that they are themselves left alone of all their generation, are still found to cling to the world, and to its vanities, with all the wonted fond tenacity of youth, forgetful of the slightness of their tenure in life, and un- mindful how unavoidably and how speedily they must follow all those who are now laid insensible in the dust around them. I seek to hasten on to the contemplation of that closing scene, in which all are equally comprehended and concerned. You observe, that in nature the bud and the blossom, the early and the later leaf, differ but in the pe- riods of their fall. At length, all meet and mingle. The cold blast of winttr arrives, and leaves not one of them behind. How nielan- choly, and yet bow just a picture of that ha- voc, of that unsparing, universal desolation, which death brings amongst the generations of men ! Thus is it with the infant, who breathed l2 l48 SERJifON VIII. %ut for an hour ; the youth, whose career was stopped in its outset; the full-grown man, who perished in the midst of his strength ; and him whose fourscore years Hngered out to the last in labour and sorrow. The storm of general dissolution has passed over their heads, and scattered them together upon the earth. They all do fade as a leaf Together they strew the valley of the shadow of death, alike subdued by Him who hath put all things under his feet *, Man that is born of a woman is of few days, and full of misery ; — he cometh up and is cut down like aJlowe7^'\; — he fleeth as it were a sha- dow, and never continueth in one stay. Having thus shortly noticed the several ap- plications, of which the figurative words of the Prophet will admit, T shall now lay before you a few plain reflections pointed out to the mind by each of these applications respectively. 1. If our devotion, our good resolutions, our moral conduct, be of themselves unstable, as they have been described, and as in truth we know them to be, what indispensable occasion have we for the grace of Heaven, to support our languishing piety, to confirm our wavering re- solves, and to assist our endangered virtue ! Is it not then our interest to pay a diligent * 1 Cor. XV. 25. t Burial Service. THE FALL OF THE LEAF. 14© and punctual attendance on all the ordinances which the Almighty has established, as the r€^. gular means of obtaining that needful reinforce- ment ? Undoubtedly beings so feeble and so frail should ever carefully seek for the support of God, not only while, but where, he may be found. They should call upon his name by fer- vent prayer, at stated and regular periods ; — they ought to ponder on his law, to frequent his house, to approach his sacred altar. By these means, while the self-righteous, who trust in their own strength for steadfastness in the observance of their vows, become the sport and victim of every temptation, and, to adopt the language of the holy Psalmist, resemble the chaff which the wind driveth away^—^-it will be justly and happily said of every individual among these more humble and earnest worshippers. Blessed is the man that trustcth in the Lord, and *whose hope the Lord is ;—for he shall he as a tree, planted by the waters, and that spr cadet h out her roots by the river ; — and shall not see when heat cometh, but her leaf shall be green ;-^a7id shall not be careful in the year of di^ ought, neither shall cease from yieldihg fruit '\. H 2. As this figurative description of the efl^ects of divine grace may well be applied to other advantages, enjoyed by the servants of God, * PsaliD i. 4. f Jer. xvii. 7, 8. L 3 ^50 SERAfON VIII. it conducts us back to the second point noticed, namely, to those sudden and awful reverses of worldly prosperity we so often witness, as sug- gested by the fall of the leaf. A view of our con- dition, this, which surely ought to recommend to us an uniform cultivation of piety and true holiness. For as godliness, we know, hath the promise of the life that now is, may we not reasonably expect that they who practise it will be more securely protected from the insta- bility of fortune, beneath the shadow of Omni- potence and divine love, than unrighteous men, w4io boldly abuse the mercies, and provoke the displeasure of their Creator. The history of hu- man life, indeed, too plainly shows, that, for wise reasons, it enters not into the plan of Pro- vidence to shelter the righteous, on all occasions, from the tempests of the present scene ; yet it is, nevertheless, still their wisdom and best interest, not, until they die, to remove their in- tegrity from them^ ; — to the end that, if disap- pointed in their hopes of earthly happiness, they may infallibly secure to themselves a far richer reversion of joy, in that new Eden, that fair Paradise, where no rough storm of adversity approaches, and where eternal summer prevails. Let the adopted language of the Prophet then be their fixed determination : — Although the fig- tree should not blossom, neither should fruit be on the vine ; — although the labour of the olive fail^ * Job, xxvii, 5. THE FALL Or THE LEAF. 151 . and the fidds yield no meat, yet will they re- joice i?i the Lord, and Joy in the God of their salvation *. Let them wait with patience, and in confident hope, for the certain, though delayed, consum- mation of their fehcity ; not repining or distrust- ing when their eyes shall behold the temporary triumphs of the impenitent : — since, however, these may flourish for a season, it shall fare with them in the end according to the prophecy of Ezekiel : — Behold, hei^ig planted, shall it prosper? shall it not utterly wither wheii the east wind hloweth on it ? It shall wither in all the leaves of her spring '\ ; — or, in the similar metaphorical language of the Apostle James, As the flower of the grass they shall pass away ; for the sun is no sooner risen imth a burning heat, than it xvitheretJk the grass, and the grace of the fashion of it pe- rishcth %. — JVith the righteous, saith David, it is not so ; his leaf shall not wither ; ajid look, what- soever he doeth, it shall prosper \: — beyond all doubt, brethren, it shall ultimately prosper, either in the present or in a better existence. S. Of that better existence, as strong an as- surance as any presented ft) the mind by natural religion, is afltbrded in the reflections arising * Habbak. iii. 17. f Ezek. xvii. 9, X James, i. 11. § Psalm i. 3, l4 tSi SERMON VIII. out of the last branch of the subject, in which the fading glories of the year were regarded in their resemblance to the close of human life.— For as the sear and withered foliage of autumn exhibits to us a striking similitude of mortality ; as the lifeless vegetation of winter represents in a forcible manner the house appointed for all living ; so the reappearance of the foliage, and the returning life of vegetation, in the cheerful and opening season of the year, may be con- i;emplated as holding forth to the departing spirit, the prospect and earnest of its awakening to a better existence. For the gloomy reign of this melancholy period does not endure for ever : — pass over our heads but a few short months, and (to resume the language of the sacred writings) Lo ! the winto* shall be passed, and the rains over and gone :— the flowers shall again appear on the earth; the time of the singing birds shall be come, and the tines, with the tender herbs, shall give a good smell* . — Yes! pass over us but a few short months, and the storms will be called away to their prisons, while warmer winds shall wake the spring : — the snows of winter will melt before the sun, and the rivers again flow softly to the ocean. — Then shall the earth bring forth her increase, and the young and bounding flocks shall rejoice * Cantic. ii. II. THE FALL 01^ THE LEAF. 153 lipdn her hills : — the naked branches will put forth their buds, and every green and tender herb of the field will once more fill the air with its fragrance. Emblems of a resurrection ! — Happy intima- tions, given by the God of nature prior to reve- lation ; — and since revelation has appeared, sub- sidiary to it, — that the sleep of death is not eternal. For shall no light and joy of spring, ihay we not with confidence ask the unbeliever, visit, in like manner, the intellectual world? — If there be hope of a tree when it is cut dawn^ that it will sprout again, and that the tender branch thereof will notfail^\ shall man lie down to rise Jio more, to cease from the fair existence which ht has enjoyed for so little a while, and to be Blotted from this universe, of which he has seen so small a part? — If a plant, without reason, without feeling, without beHef in a God, with- out hope or knowledge of futurity — if tJhis become lifeless and yet live again, shall he who is the noblest work of creation, formed after the image of his Almighty Sovereign, be crushed with all his hopes, and feelings, and fenergies, and living faculties, and capacities of i|iterminable improvement, into a narrow cell, from which he must never again come forth? * Job, xiv. 7» 154 SERMON VIII. Peace, babbling Iiificlel ! Thou foot! — the grain uhich thou soxvest is not quickened, except it die * ; — wherefore, then, should it seem with thee a thing incredible, that God should rai^e the dead'\f That the recovered life of vegetation, ' the freshening meadow, and the bursting wood," af- ford to man the promise of an existence be- yond the grave, is iiideed a conclusion intimated by the religion of nature. Something, how- ever, it must be owned, was still wanting, to render the fact incontrovertibly certain : — for although the general aspect of the vegetable tribes, which seem to die with the parting, and to revive with the rising year, might fully justify the inference in any reasonable mind, the captious or doubtful mighty perhaps, ob- ject, in alluding to the express words of our text, that those identical leaves which have fallen and perished, do not themselves resume their freshness, but that it is a,nother generation which flourishes on their branches. This defect of proof has been supplied by the word of God, and the dim lamp of surmise has given place to the dayspring of assurance from above. — Go then, O thou of little faith, and first behold the flower wiiich springs over the sepulchre, appearing to say, even to unenlight- ened reason, O Death, where is thy victory ? — ♦ 1 Cor. XV. 3(3. t '^'Cts, xxvi. 8. THE FALL OF THE LEAF. 155 From the book of nature repair to the book of revelation ; — from plausible conjecture, to in- fallible certainty. There thou wilt discover thine own resurrection established upon the fact of the resurrection of thy Lord; — still, however, in metaphorical allusion so these same remarkable appearances of nature — Christ the Jirst fruits ; — and afterxvards^ they that are Christ's J at his coming^. Thus confidently assured of a future state of ex- istence, see that thou be ever able to look forward to the transition with a well-grounded expecta- tion of its conducting to happiness. Placing thy firm reliance on the Saviour who hath led the way to it, be faithful unto death, and be not weary in well-doing; — that thy immortal spirit, hke a tree that has been removed from a bleak to a genial climate, may be taken from this lower world of clouds and tempests, to enjoy, through endless ages, a kinder sky, and to spread out to infinite perfection. * 1 Cor. XV. 23. 156 SERMON IX. ON GRADATIONS IN FUTURE HAPPINESS OR MISERY. REV'ELATIONS, CHAP. XX. PART OF VERSE 1£. ^iid the dead were judged out of those things which were written in the books, according to their works. X HAT we ought to regard our good actions, our BEST and PUREST actions, as affording no ground for a claim to eternal happiness ; and that the most righteous are saved, not by their own rigliteousness, but solely through the merits of the ever-blessed Redeemer, is the grand and leading principle of revealed religion. From this trcth, however, it has been hastily in- ferred, that since the best morality is an inade- (|uate price of salvation, all holiness is alike insignificant in the eye of Pleaven ; — that peni- tence, jfter a protracted course of iniquity, is no less acceptable than regular obedience ,* — and that whctrrer may have been the difference in mentai depravity, in the heinousness or the con- tinuance of transgressions, betwixt one class of sinful beings and anotlier, all who believe and return unto God sluill, in tlie end, he ON FUTURE HAPPINESS OH MISERY. 1.6? EQUALLY blessed, while all obstinate unbelievers shall together be confounded in one indis- criniinating measure and swoop of punish- ment. In opposition to this opinion, I shall at this time lay before you such arguments, derived from reason and revelation, as incline me to be- lieve, though with suitable diffidence, that while we certainly obtain the free gift of eter- nal life, only through the sufficiency of our Saviour Christ, there arc nevertheless grada- tions in our future allotment, thus purchased as it is; and that these will be strictly propor- tioned to our present improvement of those means of grace which are on earth imparted to us. 1. Reason, that witness of liimself which God hath given unto man— that fainter light —that lesser revelation, would calculate upon a retribution commensurate in its degrees witli moral worth or turpitude, as appearing the most consistent with the divine attribute of justice. There exists a natural sense of equity in the mind, which dictates, that recompense in futurity will be apportioned, according to our knowledge or ignorance of our duty, to our exemption from temptations, or the magnitude of our dangers ; — that flagrant offences ought S 158 SERMON I^. to be more severely punished than smallei' errors ; great excellencies more honoured than inferior good qualities ; and, in short, that the number of good or bad deeds, as well as their nature, will be estimated in our great account. The mind revolts at the supposition that good men, like Abel, and Noah, and Enoch, and Joseph, although, by reason of their frailties, unquestionably incapable of working out their own salvation, will enjoy no more of the divine favour than penitents who renounce their evil ways, after having resigned themselves, for a long course of years, to presumptuous and ha- bitual guilt. Even men inflict not the same nieasurcs o/ ^ unishment on the great and the petty ofxender; — they are often observed to mitio-ate their ano-er, in consideration of a first or unpremeditated trespass ; nor do they equally remunerate two servants, of whom one has proved failliful in few, and the oth.er in many things. Sometimes, it is true, we observe hu- man laws inflicting equal punishments on two individuals, who have perpetrated the same offence, though with different degrees of in- ward depravity ; but as this would not happen could men look into the breast, we may rea- sonably conclude, that, in such circumstances^ a distinction will doubtless be observed by llim unto whom all hearts are open. ON FUTURE HAPPINESS OR MISERY. 159 And these notions respecting the divine ad- ministration appear to be sanctioned by striking facts. In the economy of the present world, it is most clearly perceived to be a general law of the Divine Providence, that different degrees of iniquity shall produce, as their natural con- sequences, nearly proportionate measures of suffering. Does not the dissipa.ted character, even after his reformation, experience the result of the waste he has made, in fortune, in health, in reputation, or in time? Can re- pentance the most sincere recall his squan- dered possessions, his broken constitution, his wounded character, or his mispent years? Does not painful regret arise to disturb the peace, which he trusts and believes he has made with God? Is he not often deeply stung by self-- reproach on account of the past, though he feels liumbly assured that, through Christ, it is for- given? And in all these respects, does not the intenseness of his sufferings bear some relation to the extent of his past circuit in iniquity? — Yet, as tliis adjustment of woe to guilt, though sufficiently general to be distinctly perceived, is not quite universal, or nicely measured in the present life ; we can hardly, I presume, avoid con- sideriuQ- it as the intimation or commencement of an all-equitable dispensation, to be unfolded more thoroughly in a subsequent state of being. 160 SERMON IX. 2. To these surmises of reason, let us now, in the second place, annex the surer mforma- tion of Scripture. By a Levitical law, men- tioned in the book of Deuteronomy*, it is enjoined, that, If the wicked man be worthy iff be beaten, the judge shall cause him to be beaten according to his fault, by a certain number^ namely, of stripes : — in allusion to which passage, St. Lukef represents our Saviour a3 declaring, in anticipation of the general judg- ment, that the servant which knew his Lord's will, and prepared 7iot himself, neither did accord- ing to his willy shall be beaten with many stripes / -■ — and that he who knew not, and did commit things worthy of stripes, shall be beaten with few stripes. Here we find that the same amount of trans- gression will be differently visited on two indi- viduals, such as an Heathen and a Christian, of whom the one has enjoyed ample, and the other slender opportunities of knowledge. Now, if in two cases the retribution will vary, whij^ the trespasses are in themselves the same, it seems impossible not to infer a similar differ- ence in recompense, when, the same means or measures of grace being dispensed, the sum of actual trespasses shall be found unequal. Again, when our Lord declared to tlie cities of Galilee, // shall be more tolerable for Tyve ♦ Chap. XXV. 2. t Chap. xii. 4;, 48. ON FUTURE HAPPINESS OR MISERY. \6l end Sidon in the day of judgment than for you; J or if the works which ye witness had been done in them, they wou/d a great while ago have re- pented: — it is obvious, that in this very phrase MORE TOLERABLE, the same diversity of future allotment is implied ; — the same balance of dis- obedience and suffering. These passages, I nmst stop to remark by the way, furnish us with one highly important lesson: — for if evil doers involve themselves in greater condemnation, as the celestial light vouchsafed to them is moie clear, how dreadful must be the consequences of our impenitence, who are familiar with the full import and tidings of the Gospel ; — unto whom its heralds and interpreters, the ministers of God are sent, among whom the word of truth is regularly preached, and whom the Scriptures have taught from our childhood to this day, the terms of salvation, and the issue of obduracy ! But to return : — My brethren, writes the Apostle James, be not many masters, knowing that ye shall receive the greater condemnation ; for in many things we offend all *. This text like- wise admits of being elucidated by another, inculcating the same advice : Judge not, and ye. shall not be judged : for with what judgment ye * James, iii, !♦ M 162 SERBfON IX. judge, ye shall be judged; and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again^. Both passages, I conceive, may be thus paraphrased : If to our other offences, whether of infirmity ox presumption, we add an immoderate and un- christian severity towards the faults we witness, there is a tribunal where we too shall receive stricter judgment and heavier condemnation, than those will experience who have drawn over their trespasses the mantle of candour and charity towards their offending brethren. Various other texts and portions of Scrip- ture, illustrating the same doctrine, either di- rectly or by imphcation, must, doubtless, rush into the minds of such persons as are at all conversant in the sacred volume. They will recollect, that to xvkomsoever much is given, much will be, proportionally, required If : — that he who soweth sparingly, shall reap also spaynngly ; and that he who soweth plentifully, shall reap plentifidly X : — that whosoexer shall violate the LEAST of the divine commarulments, the same shall be called the least in the kingdom of heaven. Terms of comparison employed in describing our re^ compense, can only refer to its gradations. Nor would it be pardonable here to overlook, or to omit mentioning, the well-known parable • Matt. vii. 1> 2. f Luke, xii. 48. + 2 Cor. ix- 6. 4 ON FUtURE HAPPINESS OR MISERY. l6S of the distribution of talents; in -which one serv^ant is represented as receiving five cities, and another two : — but both in admeasurement to their respective fidelity. There are, moreover, varfons orders of spiritual iiiteHigences, cherubim and seraphim, angels and archangels, rising one above the sphere and con- dition of another; — from whence may be in- ferred an analogous ascending scale in our own glorified condition. Agreeably to this suppo- sition, our Lord declared, that in his Fathej^'s house are many mansions ^^, We read also of the third heavens 1[, and of some who stand (compa- ratively) mthoiit fault, before the throne of God %. It was promised to the Apostles (a manifest token of pre-eminence), that they should sit on twelve thrones, judging the tw^elve tribes of Israel §: — and when, on a difierent occasion, they inquired wdio should be the greatest in their Master's kingdom, our Saviour acquainted them ||, (not that no one should be greater than another, but) that HE should excel in greatness who should prove the most faithful in obedience. — John, we Ichow, was distinguished as the disciple whom Jesus particularly loved ^: — to what then but to some superiority in holiness can his enjoyment of an extraordinary portion of the divine favour * John, iv. 2. t 2^0^- ^"- 2- + ^^^- ^^^' 5* § Luke, xxti. ^0. |I Matt, xviii. 1. ^ John, xiii. 23, M 2 164 SERMON IX. be attributed ? — and may not recompense in this, as in every otheF instance, be fairly supposed to be commensurate with favour? To all these proofs, the passage from which our text is ex- tracted, may here, with propriety, be sub- joined : Jnd I saw tJie dead, small and g7xat, stand before God ;"^and the books were opened, and another book was opened, which is the book of life ; and the dead we7x judged out of those things which were written in the books, according to their works. For surely, if the allotment of retribu- tion is to be measured according to the works of men, its quantities must be as unequal in different cases, as the shades of vice and virtue, in different, characters, are diversified. Havhig thus endeavoured to establish the doctrine of distinctions in eternal reward and punishment, on the basis of reason and Scrip- ture, it only now remains for me to make a practical application of it. I must premise, however, that an assent to this article of belief is beset with several dan- gers, against which it is of the utmost moment that a serious caution should be offered. Let me beseech you then to beware, in admitting this delicate doctrine, of considering works as in themselves worth any thing, — as in the smallest degree establishing a right to remuneration in ON FUTURE HAPPINESS OR MISERY. l65 ihe sight of a pure God. There is no man who, honestly communing with his own con- science, will not own, as the result of the con- ference, that if God were to deal strictly witli him according to his works, independently -of any mediatorial interposition, all his thoughts of greater or inferior degrees of happiness would he lost in one haunting, terrifying appre- hension — the dread of certain, and well-merited punishment, lie would feel that it is of the ten- der compassion of G od that he is not consumed* ; and prostmting himself before the throne of the Omnipotent Judge, he would lift up his hands, and only implore for mercy. Enter not into judgment with thy[ servant, he would cry, for in thy sight shall no man living be justified -\. To any then who shall entertain the presump- tuous conception, — who shall admit the palpable and deplorable error — that they are running, if I may so speak, a debtor and creditor account with their Maker; and that the whole or any portion of their eternal happiness is a possession of their own achievement, I would earnestly recommend a constant and deep consider- ation of the two following passages of Scrip-, ture : — What hmt thou that thou didst not receive X? and, After ye haxie done all, say, We ara unprofitable servants \. Admit, however, that oup * Lament. Hi. 22. f Psalm cxliii. 2. % I Cor. iv. 7» § Luke, xvii. 10^ .AI 3 166 SERMON IX, imperfect services are received through Christ our Mediator, — and it will not then seem in- consistent with these sentiments to suppose that God will vouchsafe a greater or smaller measure of his favour, — freely given though it be to all, — as, obedient to the impulses of his sacred Spirit, we have, m.ore or less, risen supe- rior to our inborn corruption, and approximated to his nature in hoUness. Another danger generated by this doctrine is that of our resting satisfied with inferior de- grees of obedience. If, as the world is found, we perceive or imagine ourselves to excel the multitude in the discliarge of duty, we are in the greatest hazard of saying within our own hearts ; ^' 'T is well : — we are secure of obtain- ing SOME place in Heaven; — we may with safety, therefore, now leave something undone, or not trouble ourselves about higher attain- ments: — it were enough only to have escaped destruction ; — it will be abundant happiness to be but a doorkeeper in the celestial temple of our Alniig'hty Father; — let us forego, then, the EXCESSES of future felicity, and cpntent our- selves with inferior remuneration, tliat we may avoid, as much as may be, the painful restraints of self-denial, and fully enjoy the present world without altogether forfeiting the next." To the case of individuals who may adopt this reasoning, the Scriptures, as in the precedii>g ON FUTURE HAPPINESS OR MISERY. l67 instance, make pointed applications. The most i^ighteons, it is said, shall SCARCELY be saved; — rvhere then shall the deliberate sintier appear * ? — Shall we continue in sin, exclaims St. Paul, that grace max/ abound? God forbid ■\. — I think 7iot, writes the same Apostle, that I have already attai7iedX: — I forget what is behind; I press on to perfection §. But chiefly be it remembered, as the most serious truth, that though the Gospel of Christ offers happiness to the penitent, no portion of that happiness can be expected by the presumptuous transgressor, — let him offend but even in one point. Again; a mercenary service, in opposition to that holiness which results from the love of God, is likewise to be apprehended as a per- version of the doctrine before us. On this head I shall shortly remark, that it is impos- sible, on every occasion, to introduce in one discourse all the incitements to Christian obe- dience. In persuading men, by describing the terrors of the Lord, and by representing him as a re warder of them that diligently seek him, I do not deny that the pure and genuine love of the Divinity is the noblest and most generous motive that can sway the breast of man — -the mo- tive ever to be kept uppermost in the thoughts. * 1 Pet. iv. 19. t Rom. vi. 1. % Phii. iii. 12. § James, ii. 10, M 4 168 SERMON IX. This part of our subject would, however, be left incomplete, if we should fail to add, that the opposite opinion, which confounds the distinctions of reward and punishment, is preg- nant no less with dan2:ers of its own. Mia'ht it not, if admitted, tend to wear away, in some degree, the acute delicacy of conscience with respect to individual trespasses ? Is there no risk of its emboldening the sinner to pro- ceed from smaller errors to greater crimes? to imagine that the one will be as easily forgiven as the other :— that one more sin added to the heap, and one more to that, can be of little conser quence, since all are to be washed away toge- ther in redeeming blood ; — or even to arrive at the fatal delusion, that since works, in regard to their diversities, are a dust in the scale, a nothing in his account — an increased earnestnesii in faith, devotion, and zeal, will compensate some relaxation in his moral services ? 1. Our doctrine appearing to be sufficiently guarded by these preliminary remarks, I shall now proceed to entreat the young and yet unvi- tiated to remain in the house of their heavenly Father — to be uniformly steady to the dictates of principle — to resist that specious lure of Satan, "which decoys them away from the path of rec- titude, by persuading them, that, on their return, their faith and penitence will fully re-establish them in their former condition. Repentance ON FUTURE f^PPINESS OR I^IISERT. l69 would, indeed, (glorified be the name of God !) restore them, through Christ, to the divine fa- vour; — but let them be assured that it would not restore them to that entire blessedness which they enjoyed prior to their goii^g astray. The fatted calf is slain for the recovered prodigal, who was dead, and is alive ; — was lost, and i$ found* : — his return is welcomed with a robe, a ring, the festivity and jubilee of a night ;— still, ne- vertheless, he has squandered his portion;-— though pardoned and received with joy, he is poorer than his elder brother; — nor shall he again divide the inheritance with him who re- linquished not his paternal roof, and to whom, therefore, belongeth all that his father hath. In a word, the mercy of the Father of mer- cies consists in receiving his penitents at all : — • did he place them on a level with those who, excepting the errors, unavoidably incident to the most unifdrmly faithful, have not wandered widely from their home, his mercy would seem to encourage a deliberate enjoyment of the pleasures of sin for a season. Let those then, who hitherto have been little, — (little compara- tively,) —tainted by actual guilt, still beware of contracting its stains : — since, even if their re- solutions of future penitence were to be realized (resolutions, however, which sudden death, or delirious sickness, or inveterate habits, or bar- * Luke, XV. 170 SERMON IX. dened iniquity, may defeat), they would find, if there be truth in what has at tliis time been advanced, that, having lost some opportunities which, through grace, they might have im- proved, they had forfeited some rewards which it was in their power to have obtained. Theirs be (as far as human weakness can eifect) a pre- servation of the inestimable treasure of their innocence, an uninterrupted continuance in obedience ; and to them will belong the richest of patrimonies : even all that their Father hath. 2. I would, in the next place, solemnly en- treat the transgressor, every one who has un- fortunately been tempted from the right path, that he lose no moment in arising and coming to his Father— not only because a moment may close his probation, but also because each moment of delayed amendment is a new abridgment of that quantity of happiness, which Christian faith and penitence may yet procure for him; or, — pain- ful alternative! — a fearful increase of that eternal sorrow which is the wages of obstinate rebel- lion. If he has been heaping up wrath against the day of wrath, it is surely full time to think of diminishing the heap ; or, at least, of ceasing to add to it. The gates of Mercy are still open : the aids of grace are yet vouch- safed. By redoubling his care, by stretching the sinews of exertion, in the love and service of God, and of his neighbour, he may greatly ON FUTURE HAPPINESS OR MISERY. 171 retrieve his past failure; he may regain much of his lost ground ; lie may recover something of his forfeited felicity. Perhaps he may tread on the steps of the regular and steady : by a very anxious and diligent acceleration in obe- dience, it may yet be his, to overtake in the way some, whose services, though uniform, are less strenuous than those on which he is com- petent to determine and to enter, 3. Lastly, let us all consider every bay of life as a means of gra,ce, which, if rightly im- proved, advances us a step in the divine favour: — if abused, infallibly brings us nearer to ruin, or sinks us deeper in despair. Each year, and month, and minute, is of incalculable worth, as elevating or depressing tlie candidate for im- mortality. Every individual good action, each passion we suppress, each temptation we resist, each coimsel we offer, each sorrow we alleviate, every the slightest expression of Christian good-will, every mite bestowed from a pure motive, has a certain determination upon futu- rity. Not a cup of cold water shall lose its particular reward *, nor an idle word be omitted in our final account f. Not the most trivial ef- fort of self-denial, not the slightest indiscretion, shall fail to raise or to lower the scale of our everlasting condition. A faithful witness wiH record the whole, with an unerring pen, in the * Matt. X. 43, t Matt. xii. 3d. ^72 SERMON IX. books which shall be opened before the Lord j and we shall be judged out of the things which are written in the books — judged according to our works. Can we have a more cogent inducement to being perpetually vigilant; to fleeing from lesser as well as greater evils ; to cultivating all the minuter graces, as well as the more essential virtues of the Christian life ; — in one word, to being what we ought to be, by the divine help, at all times, and in all situations ; in youth as in age ; in health as in sickness ; in safety as in danger ; in the world as in the house of God ? By thus receding from the w^ay of destruction, and advancing in the humble imitation of the ever-blessed Pattern, we doubt not that some disciples have rendered their remuneration, not only to be confidently expected, but exceed- ingly great; their election not only sure, but glorious; their labour not merely not in vain in the Lord, but productive of a rich and abun- dant harvest. By progressive gradations in Christian obedience, they have risen to a more intimate enjoyment of that blessedness, with which the Deity is supremely and perfectly en^ compassed, because he is perfectly good. Such aspiring views as these, however, suit not, perhaps, the circumstances of the gene- rality of Christians. Frail, weak, erring, and ON FUTURE HAPPINESS OR MISERY. l73 far from excellence, we shall make a more be- coming improv^ement of the present subject, by considering every one of our better actions as instrumental under our Redeemer, in removing us from the lost, rather than in advancing us among the happy : as abating, in some degree, the divine displeasure, due to our innumerable faults : as rendering us, in some small measure, less unworthy of the mighty deliverance which Christ, our strength, hath wrought for us. Happy, richly, undeservedly happy, if, through his mediation, our imperfect obedience shall be deemed acceptable in the sight of Heaven, if, by surrendering to him our souls, by giving up our lives to his service, we can at all warrant our hopes of salvation in his blood, and obtain any, though it were but the lowest place iu his Fathers kingdom. 1?4 S E R M o ]sr X. ON THE ORIGIN AND PREVALENCE OF l^VIL. ISAIAtt, CHAP. XLV. VERSE 7. t form the light and create darkness: I make peace and create evil : 1, the Lord, do all these things. X HAT the world in which we are placed abounds with evil, the melancholy report of all ages has proclaimed. The complaint has been com^ mon to every rank and condition of life : — to the young, the rich, and the powerful, not less than to the aged, the indigent, and the weak. Deeply as men have deplored the fact, they have been equally perplexed in their endeavours to account for it. Could not the Creator have prevented this imperfection in his works ? and, if he is infinitely good, wherefore did he per- mit it to exist? — Might he not, if he pleased, have made all men, and all animals, to be happy? and as it was easy to his power, would it not have been more consistent with his benevo- lence, if he had formed the light without a succession of darkness, and ordained peace, without creating evil ? ON THE ORIGIN AND PREVALENCE OF EVIL. 175 These questions led many of the wise men of old, who were not visited by the light of reve- lation, and likewise a particular sect of the early Christians % to adopt the hypothesis of two first principles of things, or two eternal beings, a good and an evil power, who, as they supposed, were perpetually contending with and counteiacting each other. They thought that they did honour to the object of worship, by ascribing to a different and an adverse agent, whatever they deemed irreconcilable to his be- nevolence, and a blot upon his perfection. It did not occur to them, that, by this conjecture, they actually curtailed his attributes : — that in seeking to exalt his goodness, they were deny- ing his sovereign omnipotence. In later times, and even in our own days, a similar view of the prevalence of evil has led some persons to disbelieve the existence, others to question the providence, of God; and many who cannot Avithhold assent from either, to murmur and despond under his dispensations. We discover in the text, that the evil which is found in the world, exists there by the com- mand or permission of the Divinity. I create evil. * Vid. Law's edition of King on Evil, p. 93. Lucretius, lib. ii. V. 180. — The sect alluded to in the text, I need hardly say, was that of the Manichaeans. See Bayle's Diet, article Manichees. 176 3E!iM0>r Xi I do thisj saith the Lord. My object, th^iij I shall briefly announce to be an endeavour to vindicate the wisdom and goodness of the Almighty in so remarkable an exertion of his power. With this view I propose, on the pre- sent occasion, to show, 1st, That the quantity of existing evil is not so great as^ at first view", it may appear to be: 2dly, That whatever evil afflicts the human race, is all, in erne way or other, of their own procuring : — and, 3dly, That by the gracious interference of" Providence, it tends to a happy issue ; — to an issue which, to say the least of it, counterba- lances the previous eviL Ist. It will greatly clear the way in this dis- cussion, if we shall be able, in the outset, to satisfy ourselves that the quantity of evil is much less than, on a superficial view, might be imagined : — that the shades of adversity are not so deep as they appear to be, in the eye of a hasty observer. — And first, we may remark, that, by a wise appointment of Providence, scenes of distress are made to strike our minds more forcibly, and to awaken a far livelier fellow- feeling in our breasts than any species of feli- city which we witness : — and for this obvious reason— that distress stands in need of that ON THE ORIGIN AND PREVALENCE OF EVIL. 177 active consolation and relief, which our com- passion will naturally prompt, while happiness is more independent of sympathy. Add to this, that misery, in consequence of the same occasion for the participation of social natures in its feelings, is much more clamorous, and therefore more noticed, than satisfaction. And the sum of evil has been still further exagge- rated by writers who were aware that the tale of woe would find a chord more responsive to it in the human heart, than any which vibrates in unison with the voice of joy; as well as by many mistaken devotees, who have esteemed a gloomy discontent with the present life, as es« sential to Christian piety. To any calm and unprejudiced, observer, however, the latent, but multiplied, satisfac- tions of mankind, will not fail to discover themselves ; and he will learn to look up with confidence to that all-gracious Being, who, al- though he sulfers, for wise ends, the existence of darkness and evil, creates more of light than of darkness, and more of peace than of evil. Such an observer will discover, that, iu the natural world, and with some allusion to the literal sense of the text, if the radiance of the sun be sometimes withdrawn, it is sent to shine forth in other climes ; — it leaves behind it a calm and soothing twilight, and a season N 17^ SERMON X. suited to repose : while, to liglit the traveller on his journey, or to guide the mariner through the deep, the fair host of heaven illuminate the firmament, and pour down their beams on the darkness of night. He will reflect, that if the evil of war be often commissioned from above, to scourge the nations of the earth, there is on the whole, throughout the globe, an equal balance of peace : that, in modern times, Chris- tianity has, in many essential respects, miti- gated the horrors of warfare ; and that a state of hostilities, however to be deplored, is not to be accounted wholly destitute of benefit, since it serves to stimulate an industry which shall meet the increased demands of the revenue; and to prevent or check that voluptuousness and love of the world, to which peace, it cannot be denied, is but too favourable. To nearly all na- tural evils, indeed, a compensation may be dis- covered. Poverty is exempt from the anxieties and the fears of opulence, and is animated by hopes to which opulence is a stranger. Solid and useful sense is usually found, where a bril- liant imagination is wanting; \yhile an absence of this useful quality is as often supplied, by a happy unconsciousness of the defect. It is the helplessness of men which is the cement of civil society ; and their ignorance which unlocks the rich and various pleasures of novelty, curiosity, and progressive improvement. ON THE ORIGIN AND PREVAI;ENCE OF EVIL. 179 With respect to the sum of evil, as generally observable, we cannot but acknowledge that there is, on the lowest calculation, as much of health and serenity as of sickness and storm ; more than seven years of plenty for every seven of fiunine : and when we turn our con- templation to the moral world, if it be found to exhibit too frequent instances of private ani- mosity and contention, it will appear to be the theatre of many more civilities, hospitalities, compassions, and friendships. To these re- marks it deserves to be added, that as the pri- vate misfortunes of men occupy but a small portion of life, it is seldom that they all arrive together ; and that, by advancing in succession, they are the more easily endured. No small portion of the distress of which we complain is ideal. We fruitlessly harass our minds with apprehending calamities, that are, in ordinary calculation, by no means likely to befall us ; nor less in deploring circumstances in our lot, which contain no hardship, but in the views of our distempered fancy. Possessed of all the necessaries of life, we idly bewail our want of its superfluities. We are continually losing sight of the good which is in our power; and toiling in pursuit of some vain shadow, to which we fondly imagine happiness to be at- tached. N 2 186 ""sermon X. We are, further, apt, in contemplating tke misfortunes of our brethren, to form a false estimate of the real evil of their condition, by confining our attention to their misfortunes solely; while tve |yay no regard to the various alleviations, which often go far towards compen- sating or softening them. But if we took into our account, as in truth we ought to take, that not unfrequent natural insensibiHty which dis- regards the assault of trouble ; — that buoyancy of the spirits and fire of hope which surmounts it ;— and length of time, which reconciles men to their sufferings,— and necessary toil, which leaves but little leisure for brooding over them : if we reckoned up the soothing consolations of friendship, and the thousand tender nam.eless ser- vices performed towards the unfortunate by their kindred; — if we considered those medicines, so potent in many cases, to administer peace amid.^t the depths of tribulation, I mean the secret ' pleasures of a serene conscience, and, above all, that holy and steadfast principle of faith, which implicitly trusts in the providence of God, and calmly submits to his severest chastisements; — if, my brethren, we thus fairly contemplated ' affliction, the face of affairs would brighten up- to our view, and we should acknowledge that the Almighty Governor has left upon his crea- ' tion, a deeper stamp and signature of liis bene- volence, than of any other oi his atti il>utes. 2 ON THE ORIGIN AND PREVAJ^NCE OF FVIL. 181 It is, indeed, a common remark, and de- serving of its due weight, that although uothing be more frequent than complaints of personal unhappiness, there are few or none who would willingly exchange their condition, including all its good together with its evil, for any other that might be submitted to their preference "^^ Doubtless, then, in every condi- tion, there must exist consolations, which escape |he superficial or the melancholy observer, After all, however, it cannot be denied, that the world contains much real distress ; to ac- count for which, and to reconcile the permis- sion of it with th€ infinite wisdom and goodness of the Divine Being, it will now be proper, II. In the second place, to direct attention to its origin. Now we are distinctly informed in the sacred volume, that God doth not afflict willingly^ nor gr'iexe the children of men '\. When he first called the human race into existence, he de- signed them to be happy, and he made them so. Had our first parents then, and had all their posterity, retained their original innocence, their happiness likewise would have been cer- tjiinly perpetuated. The world would have still * Vos hinc discedite mutatis partibus j Eja Quid statis? Nolunt, •j^ Lament, iii. 33. " ■ N3 18Si 6£RM0K X. bloomed as the garden of Eden ; and neither sickness, nor anxiety, nor sorrow, nor death, would ever have found a place in it. But Adaiti, having violated the stipulated condition on which Paradise and its felicity were secured to him, himself incurred, and entailed on his descendants, the punishment which the Al- mighty had denounced on disobedience. And lest these descendants should complain of any injustice, in their being doomed to suffer fo# the offence of their forefather, they all (all at least who have lived sufficiently long to be con- scious of their sufferings, and to be capable of complaining, — all therefore with whom our argument is now concerned) have followed his footsteps in the ways of sin, and thus more fully justified the decree of Heaven. Here then, my friends, we discover the ample source of the varied miseries with which the present life abounds. By one mans disohedknce sin came into the 'world, and misery and death by sin^. Death, we are elsewhere informed, is the wages of sin : and so are sickness, sorrow, misfortune of every kind. Natural evil is the result and recompense of moral evil ; and moral evil was introduced by man's wilful transgression. Thus far, then, with respect to every species of evil, man may be pronounced the author of his own tribulation ;— how presumptuous, therefore, to * Rom. V. ON THE ORIGIN AND PREVALENCE OF EVIL. 183 ^ arraign the goodness of God, as if he origi-* nally willed that his creatures should live tQ suffer ! The evils of our condition are observed to be of two kinds ; — such as befall us by the esta- blished course of nature, and can be prevented by no foresight or exertion on our part, and such as we deliberately bringdown uponourown heads, by the abuse of our free will. It is manifest, that to both these descriptions of distress, the fore- going observations are applicable. Yet, if the former, the unavoidable evils of existence (which are the only direct punishment of the fall), be separated from the others, and con- sidered by themselves, they will appear of very insignificant amount, when compared with the general mass of surrounding trouble. The loss of friends after a long enjoyment of their so- ciety ; a few acute diseases, and rarely occur- ring accidents ; a subjection to the inclemency of seasons, and similar occasional inconveni- encies, together with removal from life, for the most part, in extreme old age ; these, I think, would constitute nearly the whole sum : — a sum which the most impatient would hardly account sufficient to embitter the present existence, or to invalidate a confidence in the divine benevo- lence. They dwindle, indeed, into nothing, \viien we remember that the sin of Adam doe^ N 4 184 SERMON X. not, of itself, inflict a punishment beyond the grave; and that an eternity of unutterable and unsullied happiness is opened to all his chil- dren. But by far the greater part of the evils of which we complain, are such as even under the forfeiture incurred by the fall, the race of Adam have no occasion to suffer ; — are under no necessity of suffering : — such as the Almighty appoints, or permits, only as the scourge of their own transgressions ; and such as, under the ordinary aids of grace, their own prudence or principle might easily have shunned. Need I refer, for proof of this assertion, to all those dire hostilities am.ongst nations, which, from the beginning, have converted the earth into a scene of blood, — an Aceldama; have laid waste its most fertile provinces, destroyed or reduced to misery millions of its inhabitants, and filled the eyes of parents and of widows with tears ? — Need I refer to the countless mul- titude of private animosities : to the jealousies and strifes in families and neighbourhoods, which engender so many reciprocal injuries; — or to those baleful effects of personal envy and resent- ment, which administer as much pain to him who harbours, as to him who is the object of such malignant affections ? O ! you who arro- gate the name of Christians, a name designed ON THE ORIGIN AND PREVALENCE OF EVIL. 185 to spread peace throughout the globe, where is the reply of conscience, when you are asked, IFJmice co7?ie wars and private variances amongst you? Not originally from God, as a necessary chastisement of the fall — but co7ne tJiey not hence ; — even from your own lusta*? Sorrows and death, it is not denied, were brought into tlie world by the sin of our first parents : — but have not sorrows been multiplied, has not death been rendered more formidable, by the voluntary depravity of us, their posterity? Do not OUR intemperance, our imprudence, and the irritation occasioned by our harbouring the vindictive passions (I am now speaking in rela- tion to the present life), fill to the brim with bitterness that cup, into which no more than a drop of gall was necessarily mingled, as the recompense of original sin ? — do not these com- bine to sharpen the sting of death, and to acce- lerate the victory of the grave? — And then, forsooth, we must murmur against God, as if HE had called us into life to be miserable; and wantonly, like an austere tyrant, broken that fortune,— impaired that constitution, that cha- racter, that peace of mind, which frugality, sobriety, circumspection, integrity — strength- ened by those influences which he did not with- hold — might easily have preserved entire ! The * James^ iv. V* 186 SERMON X. foolishness of man pcrxerteth his xvayy and his heart fretteth against the Lord *. A question, however, yet remains, to which it may be of consequence to reply. Why did God, the unbeliever has often urged, and even the humble Christian may be disposed to inquire, why did the Almighty make man a free agent ? especially if he foresaw, as the Christian system supposes him to have done, that his creatures would wofi^lly abuse their free-agency, and in this manner involve themselves in many and deep afflictions? — Wherefore did his goodness make us at all liable to transgression, or appoint that the transgressions of his creatures should ne- cessarily draw after them so many deplorable con- sequences? — In less popular language, why does MORAj. evil, the source of natural evil, exist? Might not the Supreme Governor have created us wliolly impeccable; and in this manner se- cured the continuance of primeval happiness? — • jVIy brethren, it becomes us, in stating such suppositions, to beware of pushing our inquiries too daringly, lest the creature should be found presuming to ask the Creator, with dissatisfac- tion, Why hast thou made vie thus f ? * Pro\r. xix. 3. Odyssey, lib. i. h Z3. f Rom. ix. 20. ON THE ORIGIN AN© PHEVALENXE OF EVIL. 187 Revelation informs us, however, and, so far as this guide is vouchsafed, we are permitted and encouraged to investigate, that the design of God, in calhng us, as intelUgent beings, into existence, was to make us happ3% in a certain degree, by an exertion of inteUigence ; that is, through the medium, and on the condition of obe- dience to his laws. Here, then, a choice betwixt compliance and contempt is pre-supposed :— and God kindly attached certain penalties to disobedience, in order to teach his creatures to avoid it. The existence of evil, therefore, as a scourge of sin, so far from being an impeach- ment of the divine goodness, is a proof of it. — It cannot be said to have been, at the first, un- avoidable ; and man, in incurring it, had him- self to blame. And this is true, in reference, not only to the sin of Adam, but to the parti- cular transgressions of all of his posterity. The evils which these transgressions are known to produce, if considered in the light of warnings, will appear to be benevolent interpositions : and it must still be kept in. remembrance, that, with reference to our own trials, by abstaining from the transgressions, we are able to avoid their consequences. The existence of evil, then, being absolutely necessary^ to determine the choice of intelligent beings, whos€ happiness was to be reconciled 18S SERMON X. with their free decision, their endurance of it, on heing convicted of guilt before God, became the painful but just result. To all this I will briefly add, that a higher degree of happiness is provided for intelligent beings, in the conscious- ness of their having conquered in a struggle; — - obeyed divine commands, and complied \vith divine influences, when resistance to both was in their option,— than could result, if I may use the expression, to sensitive machines, from reflecting on a virtue to which they had been blindly and irresistibly impelled *. III. But let us now, in the last place, remark the further, the superlative goodness of our Almighty Parent. For by a contrivance of his providence, never to be sufficiently admired, it is happily ordained, that even the^e necessary inflictions should conduce to the final good of his creatures ; — and to good, which, on the very lowest calculation, fully counterbalances all the previous evil. Both the inevitable misfortunes of existence, and those which are the immediate consequences of personal imprudence, are directed by the hand of an overruling Providence to the pro- duction of ultimate good. To begin with the slijrhter evils incident to our state : the thunder^ * See Law on King, p. 345, ON THE Origin and prevalence of evil. 18$ t5torlii, we may observe, clears the firmament. The devastating hurricane purifies the atmo* sphere from noxious vapours. Those clouds of insects which infest the summer (for incon- veniencies, as well as misfortunes arising from the fall, may contribute to the elucidation of tiie argument before us), are known to feed on putrescent substances, and thus to prevent their tainting the air which we respire. Turn, next, to any, it matters not which passage, in the records of civil history. The enthusiastic excursions of the Crusaders into the East, where so many fell victims to famine, the pestilence, and the sword, are ascertained to have been the means of introducing several valuable improvements, in agriculture and tlie arts of life, into the dif- ferent countries of Europe; w^hile, by alien- ating the lands of the smaller feudal despots, they diffused that free commercial spirit, which has, more equally than in preceding ages, distributed comfort amongst all ranks of so- ciety. In like manner, prior to that memorable conflagration, which destroyed a large part of the British metropolis, vast numbers were fre- quently carried off by the plague, nourished, as it was, by the narrowness of our streets : — but the lines of dwellings having been since built more widely apart, that dreadful calamity has happily disappeared. How often has war, kindled by the ambition of mortals, been ren- 190 SERMON X. dered the awful instrument by which the Al- mighty punishes, or ex terminates a guilty nation 1 If we were now to descend to the humbler page of common Hfe, and of daily experience, Avhich is ever open before our eyes, similar in- stances might easily be produced, to an extent far exceeding our present limits. To select a few at random : is it not obvious to remark, that when prodigality brings on the ruin of one family, it distributes wealth and employment amongst many? — that when, by a decree of Heaven, intemperance shortens human life, it jdeiivers society from the burden of an useless and a noxious member ? And, with respect to the personal advantage of the sufferers, if the present prosperity of the comparatively virtuous be un- certain — an often experienced consequence of the fall — their virtue is thereby purified from baser motives, and taught to look for nobler though distant rewards. It is indeed the natural ten- dency of misfortune of every description, tohum- ble pride, to inspire serious reflection, to detach the soul from sublunary things, and to inculcate a sense of dependance on the Divine Being. — Many of the most exalted and amiable virtues too, which lend a grace to the human cha- racter, or which bind man more closely to his brother, — patience, meekness, magnanimity, ON THE ORIGIN AND PREVALENCE Ot' EVIL. 19 1 compassion, cliarity, are called into activity by circumstances of distress. The thorns and the tiiistles, which the earth was condemned to bear, for a perpetual testimony of the sin of Adam, arouse in his descendants the exertions of mdustry : — and lusty and sun-burnt industry, earning his bread with the sweat of his brow, is the parent of health, of contentment, of cheerfulness ; of all the domestic virtues, and all the tranquil delights. Thus true is it, even in a temporal sense, that he who goeth forth and weepeth, shall doubtless return with gladness, bearing his slieaves with him *. . Once more, how incalculable is the advan tage derived by morality, from the shortness and insecurity of human life ! Wlmt dissuasive fiom worldly-mindedness can be more forcible than the consciousness that our sojourning is Jimited by fourscore years: — what argument more cogent for standing with our lamps con- tinually trimmed, and our loins girded, than the conviction that on any portion of even one of these years, w^e are unable to reckon with the -slightest assurance? And what, under revela- tion, is death itself, the grand natural evil which sin hath introduced? — It is to bid adieu for ever to the place of toil and sorrow, and to be con- veyed to a shore of ineffable felicity. — It is to * Psalm cxxyi. 6. 192 SERMON X. rest from our labours, and to be blessed in the Lord*. By such views, then, short-sighted though we be, we are, to a certain length, enabled to develope the designs, and to justify the provi- dence of the Divine Ruler, in the dispensation of adversity : — and there is every reason to be- lieve, that the superior knowledge, which, we trust, is reserved for us in a future state, will afford us ampler, and indeed complete satisfac- tion, on the same momentous subject. If, in the past history of every one of us, it has oc- curred, that afflictions, which at one period of life our impatience and impiety perhaps attri- buted to the wanton caprice of the Divinity sporting with our sufferings, have unexpectedly proved the means and commencement of good, may we not conclude that every oxHERevil, which we endure or witness, but of which we cannot so clearly perceive the beneficial tendency, is, in the same manner, and will at length appear to have been, only a necessary link in that great chain, which conducts to ultimate happiness :— that a time is approaching when all the seeming irregularities in the ways of Divine Providence will disappear; when the high places shall be made plain, and the rough places even ; when the fair proportions of order will arise, where we had formerly beheld only confusion ; — wis- ♦ Rev. xiv. 13. ox THE ORIGIN AND PREVALENCE OF EVIL. 193 dom, where we had distrusted ; — mercy, where we had complained: — when, ashamed of the narrowness of our past views, and of the rash- ness of our former repinings, we shall discover that all things, even the most calamitous, have wrought together for our greatest possible ad- vantage; — that all the judgments of the Al- mighty Governor are excellent; — and that, whether for the production of general or indi- vidual good, the great plan of Heaven has been the happiest and the best. The above-mentioned instances, however, of the conversion of evil into good, though far from being unworthy of most serious contem- plation, must all be regarded as only minor il- lustrations of this latter branch of the subject before us, when viewed in comparison with that astonishing fact^ the grand and awful mystery of human redemption. No sooner had man fallen, and excluded himself from all hopes of inheriting eternal happiness, than means of re- covering his lost condition are revealed to him by the offended, yet merciful Creator. A few short-lived afflictions are awarded, rather as standing memorials, than as an adequate pu- nishment of his guilt : — but the severe aspect of strict justice is softened by the mildness of pardoning love; and the same voice, which pronounces the merited doom, Dust thou art, 1 94 SERMON X. and unto dust shalt thou return, at the same mo- ment delivers a promise of the Saviour, who shall arise in due time to bruise the serpent's head. Tlie plan of salvation is gradually un- folded in the long progression of succeeding ages, until the full light of the Gospel displays at length to man, as he is fallen and ruined, the sacrifice for sin; — as he is mortal, the van- quisher of death; — as he is depraved and of himself incapable of obedience, the messenger and the giver of grace. To conclude: — From these reflections let u& learn, my fellow-sufferers, to improve our con- fidence in the divine goodness ; to redress, as far as lies within our capacity, the multiform evils that exist around us ; and to convert to wise and beneficial purposes, such of these evils as affect ourselves. 1. We have seen, that there is actually far less evil in the world, than man, in his impa- tience, wildly complains of; or, froip a slight examination, is led to conceive : that such as really exists is not wantonly inflicted by God, but is occasioned by human sinfulness ; — partly by the original guilt of our first parent, and partly by our own transgressions. We have iseen, that as man is an intelligent being, a free agent, and designed to be made happy through ON tnk ORIGIN AND PREVAIENCE OF EVIL. 195 the medium of moral improvement, the exist- ence of a certain portion of evil was necessary, as a warning by which this choice of reason might be determined; and that every affliction which befalls him, whether unavoidable, or procured by himself, — whether the scourge of original or of personal criminality, is trans- formed by Providence into an eventual benefit, and made to terminate in good. Is there not much here to teach us admiration of the divine wisdom ; adoration of the divine goodness ; •—to rebuke our discontent; to silence our mur- murs; to dispel all distrust of the superintend- ence under which we are placed ; and to recon- cile us to whatever grievances are mingled in our condition? Surely we ought to love the Lord our God, as a Being who taketh no plea- sure in our unhappiness ; whose very chastise- ments, though just, are few, — though neces- sary, are gentle; and who causes only those tears to flow, which call forth and cherish the fruits of joy. 2. The subject, now considered, ought next to incite us to redress, as far as lies within our power, the numerous evils which we every where behold. We are fully aware of the di- vine intention, that these sufferings should be no severer than is strictly necessary for effect- ing their proper object :— and that they should q2 196 SERMON X. all terminate in the advantage, — in the happi- ness of the suiferers. Nay, all the maxims incul- cating charitable offices, with which the sacred writings so copiously abound, demonstrate, that a measure of sorrow is permitted to exist, or to continue after having fulfilled its errand of chastisement or amendment, for the express purpose of improving our benevolent affections, as spectators of it, in its removal. If we com- plain then of the sum of calamity that is in the world, here is a way in which we may diminish it. Almighty God inflicts his own punish- nients; and appoints us as the instruments of terminating their operation. And if we de- cline that agency to which we are destined, do we not, in truth, disturb the courses of Provi- dence, obstruct the channels of divine mercy, and unnecessarily multiply afflictions upon the earth? In providing, therefore, bread, and clothing, and instruction, for the hungry, the naked, and the ignorant; in redressing the wrongs of the oppressed, and in consoling the sorrows of the unhappy, — let us learn to per- form our office, as almoners of Providence, and as ministers of God, for good unto his crea- tures. S. That we should improve to good purposes such evils as affect ourselves, is the last lesson to be mentioned, as growing out of the present subject. It has been already shown, and I ON THE ORIGIN AND PREVAJ-ENCE OF EVIL. 197 tiust satisfactorily, that God, in his wrath, re- membereth mercy ; — that he inflicts no calamity willingly or capriciously ; and that in every one of his chastisements there is a design to bless. Now, it is in our power, and it is our duty, to co-operate with this gracious design, in our own afflictions, as well as in the sufferings of our neighbours. And our sorrows, of whatever nature they may have been, will indeed have well accomplished their destined purpose;— they will be converted into blessings, — they will appear as so many proofs of the divine good- ness, if they shall be found to have produced the happy effect, under the grace of God, and through our own humble exertions, of arresting our speed in the career of thoughtlessness, — and weaning us from an over-fondness towards this vain and transitory world— ^of awakening in our breasts an interest for our grand concern — of leading our penitent steps to the foot of the cross — of elevating our thoughts, and pointing our hopes and affections to the throne and the bosom of God. Then shall we have ample reason to acknow- ledge, with a gratitude, issuing from the inmost recesses of our souls, // is good for us that in time past we have suffeixd affliction ; since we have thercbij known the divine law *. Then shall we * Psalm cxix. 7 1, OS ^9^ SERMON X. experience that an ever-gracious Providence makes all events, both distressful and fortu- nate, to combine silently for the peace and welfare of the faithful ; and that the light and momentary afflictions of the present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory by which, through the merits of Jesus Christ, they will be succeeded. jind one qf the elders answered^ saying unto me, What are these which are arrayed in white, robes, a?id whence come they ? And I said unto him, Sir, thou knowest : and he said unto ine, These are they which came out qf great tribula- tion, and have washed their robes, mid made them white in the blood of the Lamb : therefore are they before the throne of God, and serve him day and night in his temple : and He that sitteth on the throne shall dwell among them ; they shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more, neither shall the sun light upon them, nor any heat : for the Lamb tvhich is in the midst of the throne shall feed them, and lead them unto living fountains of waters : and God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes. • Rev. ch.vU. 199 SERMON XL ON THE SPIRITUAL DANGERS OF THE METROPOLIS ♦, PSALM LV. VERSES 10, 11. Dai/ and flight they go about upon the walls thereof: mischief also and sorrow are in the midst of it. Wickedness is in the midst thereof; deceit and guile depart not from her streets. Although temptation, in its various forms, be incidental to all conditions of life, there are certain situations unfortunately beset with a more than ordinary share of it. Thus spiritual perils are more thickly scattered in the path of the inhabitants of great cities, than in the se- questered and hallowed shade of rural retire* ment. Since therefore it is our lot, my Chris- tian brethren, to be placed in the midst of these dangers, and probably prevented by our several occupations from retreating to abodes of com- parative safety, it is in the highest degree expe- dient that we should ascertain the nature and extent of the manifold evils with which we are,^ on ail hands, encompassed, to the end that we may, if possible, obviate or abate their influence^ • Preached at the Philanthropic Chapel. 04 200 iERMON XI. I shall accordingly consider the perils pecu- liar to a metropolis, as it abounds with objects of attention, as it presents numerous solicita- tions to pleasure, and as it is extended in size. I. As a great city abounds with objects of attention, it is natural to suppose, experience indeed too fully evinces, that at best a hasty glance, a slight and imperfect consideration, will be bestowed on the interests of eternity. Where our worldly employment, the concerns of public associations, something ever to be seen, to be heard, and to be talked of; — where ceremony, politeness, friendships, and inter- course at the social board, have all their re- spective claims upon our notice, — our duties to God, as comprising prayer and praise, and a regular perusal of the sacred writings; — the more religious and serious of our duties towards our neighbour, as stretching out into the details of active assistance, and of charitable visita- tions, are in danger of occupying but a scanty space. Amongst these objects, soliciting and distracts ing the attention, — politics, chiefly owing to our vicinity to the seat of government, and to the absence of agricultural and other field pur- suits, not less than to the nature of the inte|-« course in large societies, which renders conv^r- THE SPIRITUAL DANGERS OF THE METROPOLIS. 201 sation on general and public topics, the chief bond of social communication;— politics will, on these accounts, agitate the minds of men, much more than in provincial districts : while a condensed population facilitates assemblies, and combined movements, whether for pa- triotic or for factious purposes. Amidst all the consequent stir and worldly zeal; — the ardour of public spirit, and the war of tempers, — how is the soft and gentle voice of religion to prevail, by the natural persuasion of its sweet- ness ? Is not her song too likely, if at all re- garded, to be heard with indifference, and spee- dily forgotten, charm she ever so wisely * ? But it is chiefly in the light of obstructions to the duty of self-inspection, and consequently to the amendment of life which it prompts, that I wish to insist at present on these local peculiarities. That seclusion and quietude,— that uniformity of scene, — that stillness of na- ture, — the regularity of habit, and the freedom from interruption, which render a country re- sidence so favourable to protracted meditation, are, I need hardly say, almost unknown in the centre of a crowded and busied society. Ever tempted abroad by the enticement of novelties offering themselves in endless vicissitude, the mind is but little likely to direct its attention inwards. Every day invited forth by the al- * Psalm Iviii. 5, 202 SERsroN XI. luring promise of fresh acquisitions to its in- formation, it will neglect the salutary exercise of examining and conv^erting to a wise use, the treasures it has already collected : still devour- ing, and never ruminating; still on the wing, and never at rest. Amidst a continual tumult, a variety of avocations, and a succession of ob- jects passing rapidly before the eye, short will be the leisure, weak the inclination, and feeble the power, to settle into a state of mental retrospec- tion. Attention is hurried on from one present object to another ; it skims over surfaces, and reposes on nothing: —one scene or occurrence is effaced by that which succeeds : — there is too much of acquisition, and too little of reflection : — and in a word, any effort of patient or of stead- fast thought is nearly precluded. A review of the past becomes as a twice-told tale, — as intel- ligence a day old ; — and a vitiated taste, like that of the men of Athens, covets and relishes only what is new. How unfavourable such circumstances and such habits are to spiritual improvement, will readily be acknowledged by those who remem- ber that all valuable, all earnest, and lasting amendment has ever commenced in devout and deliberate reflection. — When I thought on my ways, says the royal Psalmist, / turned my feet THE SPIRITUAL DANGERS OF THE METROPOLIS. 203 unto the divine testimonies *. A sudden impres- sion may awaken a momentary remorse, even in the most restless and unreflective mind, and lead to single acts of duty, or to a brief and transient season of obedience. But in order to purify the inner man, and thoroughly to rectify the conduct, it is necessary to confirm such casual impressions ; to shut our eyes upon the world; to withdraw our attention from sur- rounding objects ; to commune with our hearts, and be still : we must dive into the recesses of our own souls ; trace self-delusion through all its wiles, and, by recalling the history of our past failures, ascertain the points to which our penitence must be directed, or on which our caution must be awake. Now is this patient exercise of self-examination natural, is its pre- valence to be, in the course of things, expected, amidst the occupations and distracfions of a busied metropolis ? Too well do we know the contrary. " Nor is it strange (if we may en- large on the expressions of our poet) : motion, concourse, noise, variety — are all combined to scatter us abroad. Thought, outward-bound, neglects our home affairs," and leaves un- searched and unregulated the breast ; — the great and the worthiest object of her inquiry. If, therefore, we cannot flatter ourselves that, un- der such circumstances, the duty of self-inspec- * Psalm cxix. SQ, 204 SEP.MON XI. tlon is likely to be much practise J, we must ne- cessarily despair, in an equal degree, of the penitence and obedience which are its results. How can it be hoped, that they will deplore past misdoings, who are unable to find any seasonable opportunity for pondering on their sinfulness and danger? that they will be apt to improve the disposition, to whom time for ac- quiring a consciousness of its perverseness is wanting ? Is attention to the adornings of the soul to be looked for, from a multitude whose views are continually drawn aside from it? or can it be presumed that those minds will be turned to the divine testimonies, in which im- pressions are hardly formed when they are effaced; and convictions are forgotten while they are yet fresh ; in which compunction, the first movement of religious consideration, no sooner arises, than it is expelled at once, by an host of miscellaneous objects of regard. II. A variety of dangers may, in the second place, be classed together, as existing, with the greatest force, in a metropolis, in consequence of its abounding, more than any other place of abode, with invitations to pleasure. Where the body is, says the Scriptural pro- verb, there mil the eagles be gathered together *, In the resort of multitudes and in the seat of ♦ Matt. xxiv. 38. THE SPIRITUAL DANGERS OF THE METROPOLIS. 205 Wealth, will be collected all the solicitations of luxury. In speaking of these enticements, it seems unnecessary to draw a nice distinction betwixt such as bear the character of guilt upon their forehead, 1 mean the temptations to in- temperance and sensual living, and those ma- nifold calls to amusement, and excitements of artificial wants, which, when considered in themselves, may less merit the imputation of criminality. Both agree, the former, if at all obeyed, and the latter, if immoderately com- plied with, in giving birth to ostentation, ex- travagance, levity; in consuming irrecoverable time, in alienating the mind from domestic du- ties, and in producing that voluptuous and vi- tiated taste, which indisposes, as well as that entire expenditure of income, which inca- pacitates their votaries, for discharging the offices of charity. To the same origin, my brethren, may be traced another evil, which, from its extensive prevalence and serious magnitude, demands par- ticular notice ; I mean, an indisposition to ge- nuine piety. Those who are accustomed to flutter, during the week, from one place and scene of entertainment to another (however punctual they may be in external religious exer- cises), are in no proper frame of mind for the reception of serious impressions ; they soon be- 205 SERMON XI. come too apt to regard the house of God as one of their entertainments ; as that, appropriate to the Sabbath. And their habits of voluptuous- ness or gaiety having indisposed their minds for whatever is sober and unadorned, for whatever demands a patient exercise of thought, much more for whatever may, in the shghtest degree, prove irksome to their feelings, they lose all relish for solid reasoning, for evangelical sim- plicity, for the plain and sober truth as it is in Jesus; and quickly take offence, when they hear the condemnation, however salutary and necessary, of any of their favourite excesses. They regard the sacred voice of public instruc- tion, as designed, less to meliorate the heart, than to delight the ear and the fancy : and they learn to value the words of their teachers, by the elegance of their phraseology, and the lux- uriance of their imagery, more than by their tendency to edification, or consonance with the he who devotes a portion of his days of retreat and leisure to researches in sciences connected with the arts of life ; — the experimenter in che- mical processes, or mechanical inventions; — > he whose former habits have been conversant in literature, and who seeks, ere he pass away, q3 2S0 SERMON XII. to leave to Pate posterity the fruits of his studies and experience; — once more, he who, with unfeigned benevolence, performs the decent rites of hospitality and friendship, — all these may be averred (so far at least as such duties may in this place deserve consideration), to close their days consistently; — unbending without debasing minds released from professional or other severe labour, and enjoying the relaxation, without relinquishing the dignity, of rational and immortal beings. The expiring taper of life which they husband, is at once preserved by repose from wasting, and still trimmed as a light to give light to all that are in the house ^. While the veteran of the world is thus not slothful, but " studious of laborious ease," his time is deceived without being squandered ; his mind is impelled, though with slackened pace, to its just end at all times, the service of man- kind ; — and in this view it seems not beneath the dignity, or wholly foreign to the object of sacred instruction, to recomm.end, or rather to sanction all such offices, provided they be prac- tised from pure Christian motives of genuine love towards God and towards man, and ever be held secondary to higher obligations f. * Luke, xi. 36. f In this paragraph, the reader will observe, and I trust excuse, a few allusions to the works of some among our ON RETIRING FROM BUSINESS. 231 II. Among these obligations, Charity, in a stricter sense, ought to occupy a considerable ^ portion of the leisure aiforded by retirement from active life. If the sick are to be visited, the ignorant to be instructed, the wants and woes of the timid to be searched out, and the real condition of more obtrusive supplicants to be ascertained,— if Fellow-christians, dwelling in a state of variance, are to be reconciled ; — if a diligent hand be needed for the administra tion of that species of charity, which requires a sacrifice of time and trouble ;— if public en- dowments be in danger of languishing through want of the inspection and superintendence of zealous patrons ;-— (and in every neighbourhood a considerable number of these manifestations of Christian kindness will be found to claim attention)— then such among you, my friends, as have disengaged yourselves from the cares of business, are the individuals to whom the com- munity has a right to look up, for the discharge of such charitable offices. They are convenient to your condition ; — they are suitable to your years. Your active neighbour, who has his private concerns to inspect, and a family yet to provide for by daily industry, cannot be ex- pected, at this period of his life, to divide his more popular poets, from which many expressions, on the present subject, could not fail to recuf to the menaor/. q4 232 SERMON XII. attention, in any considerable degree, betsvixt the proper toils of his regular calling, and such pains-taking duties of charity, as have been re- counted. The utmost that now can in fairness be demanded from him, is the reservation and allotment of a portion of his earnings for the supply of funds, which, in the subdivision of the labour of love, it properly falls to your share to husband and to manage. If it be Ms to bestow on the indigent, pecuniary relief, it is yours to preserve him from the imposition of spurious claimants, and to bring beneath his notice proper objects of bounty. If religion have a right to tax his profits for the support uf public institutions, it is your promnce to see that his contributions towards that object be carefully economized, and rightly appro- priated. III. Another duty which it behoves you not to neglect, or to delay, is a prudent disposition of your worldly affairs, in the prospect of your speedy departure. Set thy house in order, for thou shalt surely die*, is indeed an admonition suitable to every human being, even to the healthiiest and the youngest in this uncertain 8tate : — but its voice speaks imperiously to those withdrawn from active business, and fast declining into the vale of life. AVith reference • 3 Kings, XX. 1. ON RETIRING FROM BUSINESS. 233 to the mode of bequeathing your worldly pos- sessions, the time commands me to rest satis^ fied with submitting to you these few plain directions, on which your own minds can en- large. Let all lawful debts be, in the first place, discharged: — and next, attend to the duties imposed by relationship and gratitude. To these, private charities, and public munifi- cence, will succeed in their due and natural order. In a word, let equity precede libera- lity : and beware of carrying down to the grave animosities and resentments, which you are conscious ought to have been buried with each descending sun, IV. The last and most important concern, however, which belongs to you, m.y friends, whom I have now addressed, and whom I shall continue to address, with all freedom, is the preparation of the soul for its approaching departure. Of the imperious necessity of hastening this momentous duty, every pecu- liarity, every circumstance in your present situation, is calculated, most convincingly, to remind you. In having disencumbered your- selves from the cares of acti\'e exertion, the re- flection must be obvious, that you ought to detach yourselves from the world; — that you have done, or ought to have done, with a mi- inite or eager concern about all the vain affairs 254 SERMON^ XI r. of this transitory scene, — the contests of na- tions, — the intrigues of cabinets, — the politics of your district, — the divisions in neighbour- hoods, — and in short, as a matter of keen worldly interest, with every thing that is doing under the sun. Other occupations, higher destinies, — events incalculably more awful and interesting, await you, and are even now at the very door. They who are setting forth on their earthly career, — they who are moving on in the zenith of their activity, and exulting in the glory of their strength, may have some slight excuse, — I cannot say for forgetfulness, — hut for a faint or intermitted remembrance of that termination of their present existence, which may be conceived, in the probability of ordinary calculation, to be yet a great way off, and for which they may expect, — I stop not lo say how foolishly, — to possess at a later season ample time for preparing themselves. But none of these pretences, none of these expectancies, belong at all, my brethren, to your case. Your noon is past ; your day is far spent ; — the lengthening out of the shadows of evening now reminds you, that you are come to the eleventh hour ; and tliat if 3^ou have hitherto wasted life in negligence as to your grand interest, it is high time to awake out of sleep. It may be, that, in addition to your retreat from your calling, the frailty of your crumbling taber- ON RETIRING FROM BUSINESS. 235 nacle may have begun to inform you, that the spirit will not continue much longer an inha- bitant of it. Perhaps that living tenant may now see dimly through the darkening windows of its mansion; — perhaps the pillars of that mansion may be trembling beneath it. Or has the HEAVINESS of agc come upon you with its infirmities, and have the days drawn nigh, in which you say, / have no pleasui^e in them * ? And shall not all these warnings conspire to re- mind you, that you have eaten and drunken enough, and that it is time for you to rise from the feast, and to go away ? You may moreover recollect, that in the days in which, it is to be feared, you were but too diligent servants of Mammon, — God w^as not, as lie ought to have been, in all your thoughts. You did not perhaps make that just distribution of your time, which might have left you leisure for worshipping his name. You stole, for the sake of pleasure, some of the hours of occu- pation, and repaid them out of the hours sa- cred to religion. Lo ! God has Spared you : — afforded you repose, time, opportunity, — blessed opportunity, if you but so regarded it — for considering and repenting of your having thus dishonoured him. What ingratitude,— -what in- fatuation, to toy with as a bauble, or to trample * Eccles. xii. 1. '236 SKRMoX' xir. beneath your feet, this second, last, expiring occasion, of working out your everlasting wel- fare I Of such an indulgence, how many, who, like you, in early youth, or in full manhood, abused the former, have been deprived; — for it, how many would exchange the wealth of worlds ! Yet now, to-day, it is in your pos- session ; — O ! then, shall it not be prized, — will you not hasten Avithout delay, — will you not strive, without intermission, to husband and to improve it? As all the circumstances in your present situation unite to suggest the duty of prepara- tion for death and eternity, so is every thing around you favourable to such preparation. You have less to obstruct your attention from the one thing needful, than you formerl}^ had : — fewer anxieties, irritations, disquietudes, to ruffle your temper, and to try your principles. You enjoy more time, — more composure, — more seriousness, — more freedom from interruption, — than were afforded for the task in the past years of your existence. You have laid down your old age in the lap of ease. You have come to the Sabbath in the week of life. You have pushed your bark from the tempestuous ocean, into a smooth and tranquil haven. The storm of pas- sion too has passed away ; — you liave already liad ample experience in the toils of plea- ON RETIRING FROM BUSINESS. 237 sure, of ambition, of worldly-mindedness ; — and most probably have had full conviction (if their vanity. You have withdrawn to a spot, where there are still some traces of Eden : — where resolution is less debilitated, and desire less inflamed, than in the scene of sin which you have abandoned. All being thus favour^ able to reflection and improvement, you will not surely live on to banish solemn thought,-^ or to sport and trifle down into the grave. You have made, moreover, your acquisitions in terrestrial knowledge ; the restless thirst of curiosity is allayed; — the drama is closed; — the curtain is dropt; — and nature now inclines you to deal more in retrospect than expecta- tion; — in narrative than in new research; — in developing your collected stores of information^ than in acquiring others. Religion then, — the branch of knowledge which you have too long neglected, yet which must be acquired, and which happily ma}^ be acquired with ease; — Religion, — which in your case must greatly consist in contemplation of the past, — is hence- forward your proper employment and province, and claims an almost undivided attention. Now, where the heart is sincere, a review of the past can only result in self-reproach and abasement ; — in a deep conviction of personal unworthi- UGSs: — and this is the first principle, the found- 238 SERMON XII. ation of Christianity. For such conviction will urge you to take refuge at the foot of the cross, and to acquaint yourself with the stu- pendous mystery of human redemption. From hence you will be led forward, by an easy gra- dation, to commune with the Holy Spirit as the sanctifying power, which shall enable you to ob- tain an interest in the merits of the Saviour, and to walk worthy of God, who hath called you to his kingdom and glory *. Like Simeon, you ought to live as it were continually in the temple ; — to ponder on the divine law ;— to pray without ceasing; — like that venerable old man, it will become you exclusively to centre all your views and hopes ia the Messiah ; and having found him, to resolve on resting satisfied with the discovery, and to say with gratitude, Lord^ now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace : for mine eyes have seen thy salvation. AVhen you look around you, you will recognize a region and a generation from which you are speedily to be removed ; — when you cast your eyes upwards, your soul will qtow familiar Vv'ith its destined mansions : — it will survey the country, and con- fess its home. In these plain admonitions, let me not be conceived to insinuate, that all the pious duties incumbent on persons who have retreated from ♦ 1 Thessal. ii. 12. ON RETlRmO FROM BUSINESS. 239 an active sphere, are comprehended in offices of devotion. Tliis is the unhappy error of an- chorets and hermits ; — of those useless tenants of monastic cells, — who have mistaken or per- verted the purity of the Gospel. Such retreat, indeed, it is not to be questioned, is preferable by many degrees to a life of worldly-mind ed- ness and profligacy ; — yet it is not less inferior in value to one of useful exertion, and of ex- emplary virtue. To retreat, in any way, is better than to be subdued; — but to retire contend- ing, and with the face turned towards the enemy, is, as well in spiritual as in worldly w^ar- fare, the only honourable retreat. The orb of light is not so fierce in his decline, as in the height of his meridian splendour : — he is less useful in ripening the fruits of the earth : — ^yet he ceases not gently to warm with his beams, and to gladden with his departing glor3% Yours then be the task to mingle offerings of holiness with the devotions of your evening piet}^ Have no false shame in recounting your omissions, — in imparting your regrets to the young by whom you are surrounded; that you may save them from your own hard-bouglit experiences, and erect a beacon amidst those rocks and shoals, through which you can no longer go forth as a pilot. Deprived of the power of guiding l)y active example, you still 240 SERMON- xir. can exhort, admonish, and warn;-^yet you will ^do so, I trust, ever holding it in remem- brance, that as all these in themselves are un- gracious duties, delicacy, in discharging them, is needful to secure their effect. The preceptor of wisdom must wait for suitable seasons, and approach his pupils with indulgence towards their years : — he will not obtrude his lessons on the hour of innocent hilarity, or inculcate them with distressing peevishness and teasing reitera- tion. Let him silently exhibit to them the piety, the reflection,, the sober-mindedness, which he would Teeonimend to their adoption, — in the blessed effects of rendering him cheer- ful, serene, resigned^ and moderately active, amidst the pains and infirmities of declining years. This is the true secret of obtaining that respect, that love unfeigned, that atten- tive service, which gay and heedless youth are naturally unwilling to pay to morose, and fret- ful, and self-willed old age. Thus will you be honoured, my aged brother, in the wider circle cf that society in which you live; and find, throughout your vicinity, and wherever you are known, that the hoary head, found in the Avay of righteousness, resembles a fruit- tree in autumn ; which, while laden with ma- ture fruits for the profit of the gatlierer, is yet capable of delighting the eye, by retaining z\\ the softened beauty of its early foliage.— ON RETIRING FliOM BUSINESS. 241 While tranquillity and resignation smooth the declivity of your journey, faith will brighten your prospescts as your bodily vision fails ; and heaven dawn upon you as you advance towards its confines. Having turned back again from the world, you will die with becoming dignity, among your own people, — in your own city, — in the bosom of your own progeny ; — and if buried in the grave of your father and mother, will enter their sepulchres without dishonour- ins: their memories. You will fall like a shock of corn when it is ripe. You will descend to the grave like a venerable patriarch, full of years, of piety, of wisdom, and of honour;— blessing, and blessed. And when the arch- angel of God shall wake you from your man- sion of dust, you will rise to the bloom of re- novated and immortal youth;— you will enjoy a perpetual retreat from care and sorrow, — a retreat for ever undisturbed, for ever happy. You will receive a crown far brighter in glory than you had experienced even that of the silver lock; — a crown, the reward of fidelity unto death ; — a crown of life that fadeth not away. S4^ SERMON XIII. ON THE CONDUCT PROPER UNDER FANCIEI> OR REAL WRONGS. ROMANS, CHAP. XII. PART OF VERSE 19- Dearly beloved, a^oenge not yourselves ^ but rather give place unto wrath, A RioR to the appearance of our blessed Saviour upon earth, the great duty of forgiveness was little understood. The Mosaic law, addressed to a ]>eople naturally stubborn and vindictive, was, to a certain extent, accommodated to their disposition. Besides, as it was intended, that the Jews should, for a season, continue a distinct race, and the depositaries of the true religion undebased by the idolatry of surrounding na- tions, the commandment which prescribed a love of enemies is supposed to have been with- held from the temporary code addressed to them, lest compliance with it should destroy that insulation of manners, which they were appointed to preserve until the fulness of time should arrive. That the law, in this view, might be made effective, it was rendered easily practicable : — a more exalted morality, tending to unite mankind, and to blend or soften their ON CONDUCT UNDER WRONGS. 243 differences, was reserv^ed for a happier aera, — and the Almighty Legislator was, in the mean time, satisfied, witli assigning regulations and limits to resentment. The Gentiles, with the exception of a few refined understandings, classed the desire and principle of retorting a wrong, amongst the spirited and more sublime qualities of the mind : —while they considered meek and patient en- durance as a mark of cowardice, and baseness of character. Thou shalt love thy friend, and hate thine enemy, was alike in the conviction of Jew and Heathen, — a maxim of justice, and the perfection of morals. It was the celebrated sermon delivered on the Mount, which first animadverted publicly on this imperfect virtue, and fully rectified the sentiments of mankind, as to their conduct under injurious treatment. Ye have heai^cl that it hath been said by them of old time, Thou shalt love thy neighbour, and hate thine enemy ; — but I say unto you, love your eiiemies : bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you ; — and pray for them that despitefully use you, atid per- secute you. To a consideration of this branch of refined morality, however, it is proper still to advance 244i SERMON xiir. with cautious steps, and with prudent limita- tions. If the phrases, enjoining us, when smitten on the one cheek, to turn the other also*, — that is, dehberately to lay open our breasts to fresh wounds ; — or commanding an unqualified pardon of aggressions, seventy times seven repeated f , — were to be received in a sense strictly literal, it is plain that injustice would reign uncontrolled, that acts of cruelt}^ would be accumulated without end, and that the dis- ciples of Christ would be of all men the most miserable X- The injured Christian is allowed, in most cases, to seek redress at the tribunals of hi.^ country, provided he be not of a litigious spirit in trifling matters, or actuated on any occasion by personal rancour. And the magistrate, as he is placed to be a terror to evil-doers, may avenge, by forms of law, a private wrong. Again, it is possible to be angry and sin not§. There are circumstances, under which resent- ment is lawful, or rather under which it be- comes a positive duty. A dishonourable pro- posal, — an attempt to shake principle, or to corrupt virtue, may be spurned with the live- liest indignation. Here an unrufRed indifference, a tan^e love of the aggressor, would betray the ♦ Luke, vi. 2Q. f Matt, xviil. 22. X 1 Cor. XV. 19. § Ephes. iv, 26. 2 ON CONDUCT UNDER WRONGS. 245 absence of moral sensibility. A transient feel- ing of resentment may furtlier be excusable, as a sudden trespass of infirmity ; although it deserves nol that name if it be more than mo- mentary. The sun Jiiust not go down upon pur wrath*. Neither are we expected to treat an enemy Vvith the same cordial affection, or unreserved confidence, which we naturally manifest in intercourse with a friend. Our behaviour may be marked by an abstinence from familiarity, proper to convey to him our sense of his en- mity; and by so much of cautious distance as shall be necessary to guard us from its future attacks. Nevertheless, while our difference is pending, or in the height of our studied reserve, it is our duty, as it is practicable, to forgive and to love our enemy ; — to rejoice in his prosperity ;— to com- passionate his misfortunes ; — to render him any service of assistance or humanity which he may require; — to pray for his welfare; and in fine, to be freely and fully reconciled to him, on his ac- knowledging and desisting from his offences. Fixing tins general notion of forgiveness in our minds, let us now proceed to examine how we * Ephes. W. 20. 1^2 245 SERMON XIII. may, most effectually, bring our tempers to such a frame ; and what reasons, whether worldly or spiritual, advise the suppression of those malcr volent affections, which prompt us to inflict pain, or to invoke vengeance, on our brethren. I. It is an important question, preliminary to this inquiry, whether the object of revenge be really an enemy. Admitting for a moment the propriety of resentment, have we paused to ask, is it in the present instance well founded? Have Vv^e received an actual injury ? Perhaps a short reflection will be sufficient to satisfy us, that such a construction has been groundlessly imposed, by our pride, suspicion, caprice, irri- tability, or misapprehension, upon some action wholly indifferent. Wrong, in a word, may have existed no where, but in our own erring fancy, or diseased acuteness of feeling. II. But if the conduct of our neighbour have given us substantial hurt, another necessary question will next arise : — Was the injury which he inflicted intentional ? Nothing may have been further from his mind, than the idea of giving offence, in that unguarded, though, to us, pain- ful expression, in that heedless omission of propriety or civility, which, listening to the voice of our wounded feelings, we may be too hastily apt to attribute to design. Nay, it is not impossible, that we regard, as a deliberate ON CONDUCT UNDER WRONGS. 247 affront, that which was intended as an act of the warmest kindness. How often are the af- fectionate warnings of a wise counsellor construed by a headstrong youth into an as- sumption of superiority ? We scorn, as intru- sion, the anxious zeal of friendship ; — we blame, as arrogance, the homage of humble attachment; — and thus, a behaviour, which has alarmed pride, and kindled unreasonable resent- ment, ought, if rightly estimated, to have awakened our liveliest gratitude. III. Suppose now, that there exist both in- jury and malevolence; — it yet remains for our attentive recollection, whether we were not, ourselves, the first aggressors ? Did not our adversary inflict the wound in self-defence? ^ — in resistance of our improper deportment? As to HIS criminality in retorting the first-dealt wrong, that is quite a different question, and jio business at all of ours. If he has done so, the injuries are now balanced. A new one on our part will not even be retaliation. It will be fresh injustice, IV. But indeed, in point of prudence, whe- ther we ourselves were the original aggressors or not, a retorted offence is new matter of pro- vocation, and almost infallibly ensures a re- iterated blow from the quarter whence the Jt4 248 SERIifON XIII. former proceeded. It may be that the wrath of the foe has spent itself in the first assault. He may have been satisfied :— r-he may have for- gotten you. What folly then, tb say no worse of it, will it now be, on your part, my Chris- tian brother, to rekindle that flame which had died av»^ay of itself; to place once m.ore in the hand of your adversary, that naked sword which he had returned into its scabbard ! Or even if his wrath still continue unabated, a soft answer, saith the Wise Man, turneth away wrath * ; and the most effectual method of ap- peasing an enemy, is the manifestation of pa- tience and forbearance. On the other hand, the too natural consequence of acts of resent- ment, is to incite an endless reciprocation of enmity ; since each proud spirit will not fail to harbour the conviction, that the scale of injury still preponderates on its side. Thus revenge is hardly more sinful than it is impolitic; — and to forgive would be the persuasion of selfish- ness, — though it were not the law of charity. I cannot deny, that, in the variety of human dispositions, no small number of overbearing minds are to be found, who regard meekness, and receive submission, only as invitations to aggravated severity. Towards these, such an outward behaviour may be pronounced allow- able, as is necessary to personal security ;— yet * Prov. XV. 1. ON CONDUCT UNDER WRONGS. 249 "xve must be very careful, that it on no occasion Ibe accompanied by any vindictive act, or iur spired by any sentiment of animosity. V. In the next place, it deserves continual remembrance, that revenge is not, by any means, our province. Vengeance is mine ; Izclll repay ^ J saith the Lord. Nor shall we search in vain for verv strono- reasons, to vindicate the Fatlier of the Universe in this assumption of retributive justice into his owri hands. He alone is qualified to apportion the measure of retribution ; — because he alone has a full and exact view of the injur3\ To him alone are known the motives which produced it: — the degree of malice which impelled dar enemy's mind; — by him are equitably weighed all the extenuating, as well as all the aggravating cir* cumstances of the case. We know nothing, but that we have sustained a wrong ; — that \ve smart under it; — that our painful feeling and our self-love strongly dispose us to magnify it above its due proportion; — to hate the hand which dealt it, beyond measure, and to throw it back without moderation. Add to this, that there is something exceedingly preposterous; and presumptuous in one sinful being's be- coming the judge and executioner of another. To his own master he standeth or fallethf . Our business upon earth is to think and to study * Rom. xu. 19. f Rom. xiv. 4. £.50 SERMON XIII. how we may best obtain forgiveness for our* SELVES ; NOT HOW wc may punish our brother. These truths, I am persuaded, if duly re- volved, M^ould induce us to render uuto God the things that are God's; — wholly to resign to him the privilege of vengeance; — and to desist from all proud and unbecoming attempts, of wrestmg from his right hand the thunderbolts of his wrath. Observe ; there is nothing here to contradict what has been already hinted, as to the com- petency of civil tribunals to punish wrongs. These can be actuated by no personal resent- ment; and that is the emotion which it is our present business to decry. We are in truth in- competent to decide impartially in our own cause;— and the appointed arbiter stands in the place of God, to punish as nearly according to the precise aggression, as cool judgment and great wisdom can measure : and to award to the injured, reasonable redress, though not vin^ dictive retribution. VI. If, hoAvever, it should be pretended, that thus wholly to transfer the exercise of re- compense to the Almighty, or to his established vicegerent, is an eifort of principle too difficult to be at all times expected from frail humanity, ON CONDUCT UNDER WRONGS. 251 various and weighty considerations yet remaiu for overcoming* an inclination to revenge. Amonsr candid minds it will be admitted as an axiom, that hardly the most violent would deem resentment equitable, if the aggression, after inilicting a momentary pain, shall, in the course of events, or by a com.bination of cir- cumstances, have in any degree conduced to the advantage of the sufferer. Much less then, necessarily, will it seem deserving of approba^ tion, when the wrong complained of hath led on to our highest possible, — I mean our spi- ritual good. That animadversion of calumny^ which, reaching our ears, ]ias humbled us in the opinion we had falsely conceived of ouY" selves, and reduced our mental stature from the measurement of pride, down to its just dimen- sions; — that bold rebuke, which hath spoken to us an useful, although it may be an unplea- sant truth ;— any substantial injustice inflicted on our fortune, our character, our families, or our peace, — which has furnished us with expe- rience of the deceitfulness of the world, and introduced us to an acquaintance with true re^ ligion ; — ought surely to soften, — -ought even to dispel our ill-will towards the individual M^ho hath been the unconscious bestower of these spiritual benefits. The good obtained will be weighed against the evil intended : and we will 4ook with indulgence, andevei^ Avith thankful- 352 SERMON XII r, ness, on that enemy, who, in his wrath, hath blindly discharged an office of friendship. VII. This view of the subject suggests ano- ther of similar nature: — I mean, the propriety of regarding the wound we have sustained, as having proceeded originally from God; — and him whom we call our enemy, as no more than the weapon of divine justice which chastises, or of divine goodness, which seeks our amend- ment. The injury, viewed in this light, is in-^ vested with an air of sacredness, and anger appears to border on rebellion and impiety. When Faith, looking beyond this visible world, has discovered in the heavens the unseen Author of the blow, resentment against the ostensible instrument of his power, sinks into submission to the mighty arm which guided it; and wq learn to kiss the rod with which that arm hatl] smitten us. VIII. Reflection on the present condition of our enemy will further be highly useful, in ap:- peasing a vindictive disposition. Without any retributive severity on our part, he may already be sufficiently punished. Malignity is unhap- piness. A spirit pining with envy, or rank- ling with hatred, is its own tormentor. Per^ haps his mind is at this moment lacerated by remorse, in remembrance of \}is unjust con- ON CONDUCT UNDER WRONGS. 253 duct; a prey to deep disquietude in the con- sciousness of his living with us in a state of unchristian estrangement : although Pride may wrap up those regrets, and that uneasiness, within the folds of his own gloomy and sullen breast. IX. Or should our adversary be a stranger to these delicate sensations, it will be yet well to remember, that the more destitute he is of virtue, so much the more is he an object of divine displeasure. If he has done wrong, — wrong unrepented and unrepaired, — alas ! it is registered among his other faults in heaven. And we cannot tell, but what he is already, in some affliction, suiFering the beginning of his punishment ; though the connexion betwixt the hurt he has inflicted, and the chastisement he endures, may not be clearly evident, or may not be that of an effect springing from its im- mediate cause. What shall we think then ? Is not this evil sufficient ? Shall we seek to over- whelm misery, — to super-saturate resentment, by adding the venom and lash of our malevo- lence, to the sting of conscience, or the blow of Heaven ? And even if all things in the present world go on smoothly with him, ought we not next to reflect, that this enjoyment is probably but 2^4 ^tKMo:^ xiii. temporaiy ? It may only be a gleam of suh- shine, preparatory to a terrible storm. The woe that has not befallen hiin, may impend over his head. In this case, how worse than cruel will it be, on our part, to anticipate eter- nal justice; — to urge reluctant vengeance; — - to envy him a few fleeting moments of felicity; — and to come to trouble him before his time*! I trust, it is hardly necessary to hint that this consideration is by no means proposed as supplying food for revenge. I would indulge the confident hope, that the man lives not on earth, who has drunk so deep into the spirit of maliofnitv, as to desire that such a fearful ex^ tremity of retribution should befall his very bit- terest enemy. Reflection, however, on the bare possibility of its befalling him, ought surely to extinguish every latent spark of en- mity. It should touch our breasts with the live- liest compassion; — dispose us to deprecate his punishment; — not to contribute to it; — and lender him, unhappy being ! the object, not of our wrath, but of our pity and our prayers. X. Yet if, in open defiance of all these cogent arguments, we will surrender ourselves to the inward fiend, and proceed to retaliate ; we must not forget, when contemplating the present, or the probable recompense of our adversary's in- * Matt, viii. 20 ON CONDUCt UNDER ^VROr^GS. 9,66 justice, that by this measure we render our- selves liable to all the same evils. PFe contract the internal disquietude and self-torment be- longing to a malignant temper:— ^yE involve ourselves in the hazard of receiving present correction from above :— we become obnoxious to eternal wrath : — so that in retorting malice, we are only, like the infuriate tiger who gnaws his chain, aggravating our own torments. In the mean time, we afford our foe a fresh cause of exi#tation; and in seeking to punish the au- thor of the wrong, we heap a two-fold pu- nishment upon our own heads. XI. This leads us on to that great, evange- lical motive, which is more weighty and per- suasive than all those that have preceded it; and which, if no one other argument for forgive- ness existed, would be of itself decisive upon the subject : If' ye forgive not men their tres- passcSy neither xvill your heavenly Father forgive you YOURS*. Who is he that shall look this plain proposition in the face, and continue for ano- ther moment to foster rancour against aa enemy? Who is he, to state the question in a different form, — who is he who hath no tres- passes to be forgiven? Our ever-blessed Sa- viour took upon him our nature, and poured out his blood, for the remission of sins. He * Matt. vi. 15. £55 s£ioio?T xirr. suffered, to propitiate the Father, and to open s way for the acceptance of services, which, withovit that preparation, would have found no access to the favour of Heaven. But if we, my brethren in transgression, forgive not; if we refuse to perform the most Saviour-like of these services, the world will still be to us im- mersed in its ancient Heathen darkness : — all the inestimable benefits of redemption will in our case be utterly lost; the boon of pardon will be forfeited; and Christ will have died in vain. With the measure with which we mete^ it shall be measured to us in return*. Than this there is no one canon of Scriptural morality, more explicit in its statement, or more unequivocal in its meaning. Satisfied then as to the truth of it, by what strange infatuation, by what de- lusion, can we presume to hope, or to conceive, that any prayer will find acceptance, which seeks reconciliation with God, before the sup- pliant shall have reconciled himself to man .^ No ; — the unhallowed orison will return upon liis own head, to accuse, to condemn, and to cover him with confusion. That beautiful pe- tition, •' Forgive us our debts, even as we for- give our debtors," becomes an ironical reflection cast by him on his own conduct. It is a de- liberate supplication of divine wrath; — and the Hearer of prayer will literally grant his, in ap- ♦ Markj iv* 24. ON CONDUCT UNDER WRONGS. 257 pointing him his portion with hypocrites ; — for that will be forgiving him as he has forgiven. On the other hand, with how sweet a confi- dence, with how v/ell-grounded an assurance, can he prefer tliis prayer, if he be conscious that he has fulfilled the previous condition, on which, under the Mediator, its favourable re- ception is suspended ! If, after he hath first gone and been reconciled to his brother, he then come and offer his gift*, — the gift of a truly penitent heart with respect to his other offences, — he may then dismiss all anxiety froni his mind, and rely on his pardon, through the intercession of Christ, as firmly as if a mes- senger of peace from the eternal throne had acquainted him that he had seen it sealed. XII. For practising the sacred, — we m.ay say emphatically, the Christian duty, which the various reasons now collected recommend, a concluding motive presses itself upon our re- gard, in the examples held forth by Scripture. Among these the leading one is that of God himself; — and it is brought forward by our Lord, indeed, when enjoining the love of enemies : — Love them, that ye may be the children of your Father which is in heaven ;— for he makcth his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and Kndeth * Matt. V. 23, 24. s 2.58 SERMON XII r. rain on the just and the unjust*'. Even under the Jewish dispensation, although we have aheady seen that forgiveness as a legal duty was not fully specified until later times, — instances of this virtue, as prompted by the native impulse of a pious or tender disposition, are not want- ing. Joseph wept on the necks, and amply provided for the wants, of those unkind bre- tiiren, who had sold him into bondage. David forgave Saul, for that inveterate and unpro- voked hatred, which had instigated so many attempts upon his life: and the same heart yearned towards the rebellious Absalom, when he rose up in arms to shake the throne of his father. But lest such instances of mjuries over- looked, should be ascribed to the principles of loyalty, or of affection for kindred, behold the patient Father of Christianity, and the pattern of Christians : — who suffered as never man suf- fered ; and forgave as never man forgave : — who exhibited in his conduct the duty which his precepts inculcated, and resigned his breath amidst the taunts and cruelties of his perse- cutors, — praying for their pardon, and apolo- gizing for their crime. Doubtless so high an example ought to ani- mate and persuade us, not only to forgive our ♦ Matt. V. 45. ox CONDUCT UNDER WRONGS. 259 tiiiemies, but to forgive them from the bottom of the heart ; — not merely to abstain from re- turning the evil tliey have dealt, but to over- come their evil uith good. Therefore, if thine enemy hunger, feed him; if he thirst, gi've him drink *. For in so doing, it is added, thou shalt heap coals of fire on his head : — that is to say (widely different from the interpretation an- nexed to the passage by some self-deceivers, who have enshrined their rancour in the reli- gion which disclaims it, forgiving on the fiend- like principle of resentment), thou shalt melt down thine enemy's heart into tenderness, as the silver is refined by the furnace. This re- turn for injustice may overwhelm him with shame, and convert his rage into kindness. But however that may be, we shall assuredly, by such behaviour, have acquitted ourselves as disciples and imitators of our Lord and Master. We shall evince our having cultivated that heavenly disposition, which renders us meet to receive the adoption of sons ; — brethren of the glorified Son of the Most High; and joint heirs with him in the everlasting love of the Father. Through his merits we sliall be enabled to lay claim to the inheritance, which mercy hath purchased, and forgiveness hath bestowed. * Kom. xii. 20, s 'i 1260 SERMON XIV. ON HONOURING AND VISITING THE GRAVES OF OUR FRIENDS. ST. LUKE, CHAP. XXIV. LATTER PART OF VERSE 5- Why seek ye the living among the dead? To whatever part of the world we direct our eyes, — whether we view men in a civilized or savage state, — wliether we regard their feelings quickened by the influence of a vertical sun, or chilled by the frosts and tempests of the north, — we find them, alike in ancient and in modern times, anxious to collect the bones of their friends, to deposit them in a safe retreat, to shelter them from insult, and protect them from dispersion. By some nations the relics of the deceased, thus hallowed, have been interred, or hidden in the cave of a rock : — by others embalmed, and preserved from decay : — by others, their ashes have been collected from the funeral pile, and enclosed in an urn, sacred to remembrance. Thus a reverence for the insensible earthly ta- bernacle is miiversal, however various the modes ON HONOURING THE CRAVES OF OUR FRIENDS. 56 1 of evincing it. So far may it be traced, that history presents the proudest and most valiant nations of antiquity, submitting to own them^ selves vanquished after a doubtful field, only for the sake of burying their dead. Many dan- gers were en<:ountered, and large ransoms paid, for the recovery of a hero slain in battle. And the shades of those who had received no fu- neral rites, were fabled by the poets to wander many years, before they could be admitted into the seats of the happy. When we turn to the sacred writings, wo find them affording, in various instances, a sanction to this decent usage. The *calley of dead bones shall be holy to the Lord ; — it shall not be plucked up, 7wr thrown down^ any inore, for ever*. Not to dwell on inferior examples,-— wa read, that the body of our blessed Master was carried from the cross, and laid by his disciple of Arimathea, in his own new sepulchre, hewn out of a rock. Even angel messengers are sent forth to the spot, consecrated by his temporary insensibility ; and are found sitting, one at the head, and another at the feet, where the body of Jesus had lain. In this sacred veneration for the bodie§ of the ckceased, our own customs are not observed to ♦ Jer. xxxi. 40, S3 -62 SERMON XIV. vary materially from those of other times and countries. We carefully restore ashes to ashes, and dust to the dust from whence it came. Our cemeteries are reverenced nearly as our churches. We consecrate the ground where the dead are laid; — and shelter their remains from rude hands, and profane uses. We raise the stone to mark out where they are laid : and an in- scription records the last sad event of their history. Connected with this disposition to pay de- cent honours unto the earthly remains of the departed, is another hardjy less generally pre- valent ,• — that, I mean, which so often prompts survivors to visit the silent spot where they are laid. Jnd it was a custom in Israel^ that the daughter's of Israel xvent yearlij to lament the daughter oJJephthah the Gileadite, in the place wheix she had bee?i offered, ---four days in the I/ear ^. The Apostles, Peter and John, are re- presented, in the New Testament, as anxiously watching around the holy sepulchre. How caieful are tlie two Marys to come, early in the morning, to the tomh of their beloved Master ! And when one of them is thus addressed by an angel, fVoman, why weepest thou ? — how strongly docs her reply betray tlie feelings of the heart ! — Because they luwe taken axvoy my Lord, and I know not zvhere they have kdd him f. * Judges^ xi. 40. f John, xx. 13. ON HONOURING THE GRAVES OF OUR FRIENDS. 263 Customs, thus general as the voice of na- ture, appear to be dictated, not by strict rea- son, but by one of those fond ilhisions of the imagination, which men have at all times loved to indulge. Reason would tell us, that there is nothing in the grave which is capable of being either satisfied with our respect, or of- fended by our omission of it : — that underneath us earth is mouldering with its earth ; — and that, if the principle by which it was animated be still the seat of consciousness, it is fixed in a higher abode. It seems, then, that, obe- dient to the suggestions of fancy, we conceive that the soul, which formerly inhabited the body, may still perhaps hover near its taber- nacle ; — to mark the decent rites presented by surviving friends; — to hear their voice; to witness their sorrow; and to answer to their call. Hence an anxiety to spare that spirit the sensation of beholding its earthly frame cast forth by the hand of indifference, to be the prey of animals, or a spectacle of offence. Hence the pensive luxury of lingering in the place of graves : — of frequenting the hallowed ^pot where our associates are at rest from their labours. We regard the tomb as the porch of Heaven, where the living may go to hold con- verse with the dead. We there seem to stand on the confines of eternity, and to listen to the secrets of the unknown world. From the s4 264 SERMON XIV. distractions of care, and the insipidities of pleasure, it is not unnatural to retire to this gloom}^ satisfaction. " Sacred," we say, *^ be these last depositaries of our best and dearest treasures : — smooth and untouched be the turf which covers, — unstirred the earth which min- gles with their ashes; — that disconsolate friend- ship may readily find the scene most favourable to the indulgence of its tender and better feel- ings ; and know where to meet with the sainted objects and witnesses of its occupation, wheu it goes forth to ponder, to remember, and to weep." ' This imaginary reanimation of the ashes of the dead seems, in like manner, to occasion and to account for the desire of the living to be gathered, whenever their own final hour shall have arrived, to their family burying-place, to the long home of their fathers. Bury me, says the Patriarch Jacob to his children, bury me in the care of Mackpelah :— there they buried Abraham, and Sarah his xv'ife ; — there they buried Isaac and Jlehekah his wife ; — and there I buried Leah"*". Entreat me not to leare ihee^ said Ruth to her mother-in-law, — and who does not perceive the delicacy of the request ?—/o?' where thou gotst I zvill go ; and where thou diest I will die^ and there will I be buried'^. * Gen. xlix. 31. f Ruth, i. 2f, '2 ON HONOURING THE GRAVES OF OUR FRIENDS. ^65 But whether tlie custom of lionouriiig, and the pensive pleasure derived from visiting, the stili remains of tlic dcixd, may be traced to tlie delusion to wliicli we have here ascribed them, or simply to our love of consecrating and fre- quenting scenes, which easily recall, by associa- tion, many tender remembrances to the mind, it is pleasing to learn, from Scriptural ex- amples, thus satisfactorily confirming the voice of nature, that the voice of nature, in the pre- sent instance, is not to be stifled or opposed. Satisfied then, that there is, at least, no im- propriety, in reverencing and cherishing the memory of our lost friends, let us proceed to inquire in what respects these solemn exercises may be rendered advantageous, — in addition to their being pleasurable- I. It is obvions, that the first lesson taught us at the graves of our companions, is the bre- vity and precariousness of the present shadowy existence, and the awful termination of it, to which we are all fast hastening. Were they, to Avhose tombs you carry the tribute of remem- brance, arrested in the beginning of their earthly career, or in the health and strength of manhood ? — and will you not learn to distrust the delusive promises held out by the bloom of youth, and the vigour of maturity? — Did the ^66 SERMON XIV. objects of your sorrow drop in full old age, like a shock of corn when it is riper — and can you fail to reflect that the most protracted life is but a span ; — and that all the sublunary plea- sures which sparkle in your eyes, and excite your ardent wishes, must be relinquished in fourscore years ; — a brief period, a vapour, and a vanity at the best; — yet part of it with all of us, — CHEAT part of it with many, already elapsed, — and the scanty remainder rapidly rolling away. By this wise consideration of our latter end, the necessity of prepai'ation for it will natu- rally be suggested. Hark, sons of mortality, to the warning voice, which, issuing forth from the recesses of the tomb, while it re- minds you that you have here no continuing city, persuasively adds, Be ye therefore ready *\ These narrow cells, to which you love to re- sort, will speedily become the receptacles of your own bodies, as well as of those you have recently committed to them. Your spirits, like the spirits of the deceased, will go to live for ever; — but whether in happiness or in per- petual pain, — whether in the society of the pure or of the wicked, is in great measure, and is NOW, at your own disposal. A learned and devout Prelate of our church, w^hile in a beau-» * Peb. xiii. 14. and Luke^ xii. 40. JON HONOURING THE GRAVES OF OUR TRIENt)S. 267 tiful epitaph inscribed to the inemoiy of his daughter, he consoles his mind with hopes of immortal bliss, introduces this caution, which e\'ery one ought well to remember, — '' provided only that I be found worthy." It is needful that we should walk according to the law of the Gospel, if we desire to enjoy its promises. And strong is that motive to faith and to holi- ness, which, while we are giving way to the more amiable feelings of nature, in lamenting those friends of whom we have been bereaved, reminds us, that to the region where they now are fLxed, the unbelieving and disobedient never can approach. II. In honouring the remains, then, of such objects of esteem, let us assist our preparation for that eternity to which we are destined to follow, by recounting their good qualities, and comparing their dispositions with our own. Has the youth attained any portion of that steady virtue, that respectable sedateness, or that meek piety, which encircled as with rays of glory the head of his venerated and sainted parent? Does the husband study to imitate those gentler graces, which qualified the mother of his infants for the society of angels? Does the widow strive to copy that strict principle, |;hat correct propriety, that sober prudence, or 25S SERMON XIV. any other rigid and dignified virtue, of which sorrow may have fixed a well-known portrait in her soul? Unless accompanied by such comparisons and applications, unavailing to ourselves as to the friends whom we deplore, are the bitterest tears which water the borders of the grave. But, III. While we resolve to imitate, by the grace of God, whatever is pure, and honest, and of good report in the characters of departed friends, let memory be no less faithful and minute, in her private register of their faults. The best have not lived without their faults : and how- ever fitting it may be that decency or charity should veil, or extenuate the offences of the dead, when their characters are canvassed in society, it is equally expedient, that, in our secret contemplations, we should bring them back to view precisely as they were. We are but too prone to overlook in our companions, when they are no more, those failings which we had been accustomed to palliate during their lives. Our remembrances are only eulogies ;— and too frequently agreeable delusions ; — while fond affection shrinks from the representations of truth, as if they were indelicacy or injury to the departed. But however cold and invidious may prove the employment of drawing back f|*om their dark abode the frailties of those we ON HOXOURIXG THE GRAVES OF OUR FRIENDS. 9,69 love, the Christian instructor is strongly called upon to enforce it, lest extravagant attachment should begin by consecrating, and unhappily end in imitating misdoings, which reason and religion pronounce deserving of being shunned. Recollecting, that if our deceased brethren could return to the precincts of day, there are defects which they would doubtless alter in their conduct, let us avail ourselves of the op- portunities of which they are deprived. Con- sidedng that tlieir failings have, in every pro- bability, shorn away a beam from the brightness of their glory, and abated that eternal hap- piness, which, through the extension of mercy, they enjoy — (alas ! what if some of them, pre- suming too far on that mercy, be altogether self-excluded from part or lot in the inheritance of saints?) — let us improve the precious mo- ments w^hich Providence hath yet assigned to us, that we may w^ithdraw our eternal station as little as may be, from the throne of God, the fountain of felicity,— and treasure what we can of that rich reward, which is promised to our faith, and measured by our exertions. To accomplish this end, it will, in all cases, be beneficial, to withdraw attention from the worthiest of fallen and imperfect men, to the great and excellent Standard of Christian holi- 270 SERMO?v XIV. ness, the Author and Finisher of our faith ;— ^ who alone is incapable of misleading as a pat- tern,, because in hiin alone " was there found no blame." IV. By these reflections I am led to notice particular!}^, what I have above slightly adverted to, the great doctrine of a general resurrection of the dead, as another topic worthy of em- ploying the thoughts of mourners, while they are bending over the sepulchres of their friends. A subject this, on which natural religion had formed to itself a few faint and plausible sur- mises and conjectures : — but as these were rather the desires of aftection, the dreams and fictions of sorrow, than infalHble conclusions or authorized assurances, they would be often stript of all their power to administer consola- tion, by the simple view of a cemetery. There affection, with a sad and pensive remem- brance, would clasp the marble, or gaze upon the monument, as all that remained of its plea- sures. Vvliile it wandered fortli amidst the dreary receptacles of tlie departed, and beheld their bodies resolved into their original ele- ments, or the ghastly and fleshless scull cast up by the spade, — a chiHing terror would be struck into the heavt, by that awful scene of stiUness, desolation, and ruin. All subtle reasonings, and all fond wishes, as to the probabiHty of ox HONOURING THE GRAVES OF OOR FRIENDS. 27 I resuscitated animation, would fall before the disheartening but natural question, — Can breath return to bodies thus demolished and dissolved? Can these dry bones, these crumbling ashes live * ? Shall the dead, O God! arise and praise theef Shall thij loving Imidjiess be declared in the grave, and thy faithfulness in destruction'\ ? From this condition of tormenting apprehension, and gloomy despondence, the world has been fully delivered by the light of revelation. For sure as Christ himself hath arisen from the dead, — sure as competent witnesses who relate that won- derful event, have laid down their lives in at- testation of their veracity, — so sure is it that God, who hath raised up Christ, will raise up us also by the word of his power J ; — so sure, that all who are in the graves shall hear the voice of the Son of Man, and come forth \. V. But, admitting that they whom we have lost shall arise, a doubt may still suggest itself, whether they may be restored to us. And of the kind intentions of Providence in this respect, it will not, I presume, be dithcult to present proofs (as an additional theme of meditation), satisfactory to sober judgment, and powerfully consolatory to sorrow. The general consent of nations in the opinion referred to; — those ♦ Ezek. xxxvii. 3. f ^^^^"^ ^^^'- ^^' ^1' X I Cor. vi. 14. % John^ v. 23. 2/tZ SERMOX XIV o anxious expectations of reunion so clear to the human breast, expectations which the Deity can- not well be supposed to have implanted, without intending to crown them w'ith their object; — the very nature of virtuous intercourse, which is pure and celestial ; — our certainty of the future ex- istence of the different ingredients — (of our own immortal spirits, and of those of our friends) — r necessary to constitute this species of enjoy- ment ; and the difficulty of assigning a reason why God should separate them in ignorance, or exclude them from a participation, of the hap-, piness enjoyed by each other; — these considera- tions, wdien all gathered together, seem argu- ments of no trifling weight, in favour of the doctrine we are endeavouring to establish. Con- siderable stress mio'ht further be laid on the manifest earnestness with which the sacred pen- ir.en have laboured to pro\'e the resurrection of the BODY : especially in that celebrated portion of St. Paul's First Epistle to the Corinthians, which has been inserted in our Burial Service : — since it is difficult to ascertain wherefore such pains should be employed, to assure the disciples of Christ that they shall be clothed with glorified bodies, unless that solace might arise amidst the separations of the present scene, from the be.Hef that Providence, in se- curing a future personal individuality, must have designed a renewal of mutual knowledge. ON MOJfOUKrNG THE GRAVES OF OUR FRIENDS. S73 and of personal friendship, for individuals whom it had dissevered upon earth. But besides these intimations derived from reason, and from the general scope and tenour of the inspired volume, particular passages can in no scanty number be collected, speaking, more expressly, to the same eifect. If Christ told his Apostles that they should be with him where he was ascending *, can we rightly sup- pose them to be there deprived of the power of knowing their former Master, and one another? If we are surrounded by a cloud of spirits of just men made perfect f, must not these just men dwell in one holy fraternity ? Is not Lazarus described as reclining on the bosom of Abra- ham ;]:? Did not the King of Israel pacify him- self under the loss of his child, in the remark- able words, — I shall go to him, though he cannot return to me||? Does not St. Paul ac- quaint the Thessalonian believers, that they should rest together with "him, when the Lord should be again revealed with all his holy angels^? From thes^t and similar passages, may it not be confidently concluded, that all those ties of virtuous friendship ^aJid concord, which had been, on earth, cut violently asunder * John, Kiv. 3. t Heb. xii. 23. t IfUVe, Kvi. 23. II 2 Sam. xii. 23. 274 SERMON XIV. by the hand of death, will be again knit toge* ther indissolubly in futurity ? — and may we not reasonably pronounce, that in the summary and rule of our faith, prescribed m the Apostles' creed, the communion of saints has been an- nexed to the resurrection of the dead, and to everlasting life, with propriety, as to its kin- dred doctrines ? VI. Finally then, let us learn, amongst the abodes of the departed, the reasonable and proper use of this world. A view of these silent and dreary mansions, indeed, naturally tends to withdraw the soul from an immoderate attach- ment to sublunary objects. When they for whose sakes life was chiefly desirable, are taken away, and our eyes have ceased to behold them, some of those silver cords are loosened, which bind us to this place of our enchantment. The world now dwindles in its apparent magnitude, and attracts less of our notice and affections. In a land of strangers, and bereft of its props and reliances, the soul prepares to plume its wing, that it may fly away and be at rest *. Our conversation is happily ^elevated by our. wishes, to the vast field in which it ought to expatiate, and- we pant with greater earnestness after our proper home, as we perceive more and more of our treasures removed to it. Our inducements * Psalm Iv. 6- ON HONOURING THE GRAVES OF OUR FRIENDS. 275 to climb the ladder, which in the vision of faith appears let down from Heaven, are multiplied, as glorified beings with whose looks we are fa- miliar, ascend and desend in greater numbers. These, — brethren in hope, — are salutarj^ im- pulses, when obeyed with prudence and mo- deration. But beware of abandoning the indis- pensable duties of life, when weaning the heart from excessive fondness for its vanities. Thus acting, bow in silence before that Supreme Dis- poser, in whose hands are the issues of life as well as of death * ; who in the dispensatioii which you deplore, hath only resumed what he lent; and who is able with a word, — and who designs, — to restore it yet again. 1*0 conclude — From this prudent and principled economy of sorrow, — from so chastened an in- dulgence of the better affections of the soul, — « you may reasonably hope to return from each visit to the place of graves, more devout and more virtuous, as well as more composed. But if there be any who repair thither only in order to bewail, what they impiously deem an irre- parable loss ; to look wildly on the wreck of enjoyments, which, with unbelieving hearts, they tell themselves are for ever past; to weep over the departed as if tliey were vainly con-' ceived to be the eternal tenants of their dark * Psalm Ixviii. 20, T 2 276 SERMON XIV. abodes ; — then, to such sorrowers as men without hope*, it becomes proper to address the rebuke of the heavenly messenger — IVhi/ seek ye the living among the dead? If there be any who waste the precious season of probation by too protracted, — or criminally shorten it by too impassioned recollections; who devote to idle musings, and romantic sensibilities^ and ima* ginary conversations at the tomb, a dispropor- tionate share of that attention which is due to their families, and to friends who yet remain :-— any, who industriously tear open the wound, which God and time would heal, neither chiding the feet that love to linger near the haunts of sorrow, nor the soliloquy that fondly hangs on the minutest remembrances of the past; — by these, in a different, though not less empha- tical meaning, is the same admonition deserv- ing of being recollected : " Away, and do good to those who need your succour: away to the living; — your business is not to trifle among the dead." Had I the power to reveal the invisible world; could I here draw aside the veil which hides the things eternal from our senses ; and show to one, an infant, to another, a parent, to ano- ther, a friend ; — they would doubtless appear saying, with countenances beaming benignity, » 1 Thessal. iv- 13. ON HONOURING THE GllAVES OF OUR FRIENDS. 277 but Avitli the gentle chicling of immortals, — Some indulgence of regret is natural, it is be- coming; — some short suspension of worldly occupations is pardonable. It will profit you in your preparation for a more exalted state. Come, on each returning first day of the week, with your sweet spices of remembrance ; and bedew our ashes with your tearful offerings of affec- tion. Come, and answer to the air as it sighs over the grass, which covers our lowly dwell- ing: — and listen once more in imagination to the voices, which but yesterday you knew so well. But see that these effusions and fond in- dulgences of sorrow be tempered by reason and religion. Awhile are we permitted to watch around your path, that we may impart to you a salutary warning, and intimate the in- telligence of truth. Be not deceived ; we are risen. The stone is rolled away from the mouth of the sepulchre*. Behold the spot where we lay. The soul is not the tenant of the dismal vault, or covered by the hillock of earth. There our ashes are alone now left ; and while dust has been mingled with its native dust, the light-winged spirit has returned unto its original home. While you vainly wander in this place of tombs, and love to mourn over our insensible remains, — that part of us which knows, and remembers, and feels, * Matt, xxviii. 2. ^3 278 6ERM0N XIV. is settled iu its sphere, and finds its eter- nal occupation, in extolling the praises, and enjoying the presence of God. Beyond the reach of pain, beyond the flight of imagina" tion, we are entered into peace; — we are taken from the evil to come. Our difficulties, our struo'O'les, are for ever over. Ours is now the palm of triumph, and the garment of purity. Weep not then for us : but weep for yourselves *; — and weep not for your loss, but for your un- worthiness to follow. Hence, and surrender the soul to God. Depart; — and whatsoever the hand findeth to do, let it be accomplished ere the hastening shade of evening descend f. Thus, whether your bodies shall be deposited in the grave with ours; whether they may be ap- pointed to perish in the waters, or to be scat- tered in their dust to every corner of the globe; your SOULS will be gathered unto your relatives and friends : — they shall enter into our glory ; — they shall partake of our rest : and in a spi- ritual communication, more intimate, and more pure, than can be conceived by flesh and blood, JVIicrc WE are, there ye shall be also J, * I.uke, xxiii. 28. f Eccles. ix. 10. % ^^'^^* ^'v. a. 27i) SERMON XV. ON READING. ACTS, CHAP. XIX. VERSE 19. Many of them also which used curious arts brought their books together, and burned them before all men ; and they counted the price of them, and found them fifty thousatid pieces of silver- In the infancy of society knowledge was com- municated, chiefly, through the medium of oral instruction. When the aged Patriarch* deli- vered to his children, or to a popular assembly, the results of his long experience, he was re- garded and listened to with almost superstitious veneration, because wisdom could be gathered no where but from his lips. This mode of teaching, however, was speedily discovered to be subject to several very material disadvan- tages. The information which it imparted Avas, primarily, confined to a narrow circle of ^udito^s, ; and even by these it was liable to be * Jqb, xxix, 8. KoTR — Wa^it o? TQovn prevents the author from fulfilling his origipal intentipijn of subjoining a list ©f books proper for a general library^ to thijs discourse. T 4 280 SERMON XV. misunderstood, to be imperfectly learned, to be quickly forgotten. It could not easily be ar- rested as it was uttered, with a view to the patient investigation of its accuracy: — nor could it embrace many topics of calculation or of research, which although highly useful, would not, in delivery, be comprehended, or relished, by the generality of hearers. To re- medy these defects, the important art of writing, either by means of symbols or of let- ters, was invented. When wise men died, they left their wisdom in books, as a rich legacy to posterity; — and numerous are the volumes of that wisdom which antiquity has transmitted. If so early as the days of Solomon it could be said with truth, that of writing of books there was no end *, the assertion, or rather the com- plaint, may, with infinitely greater justice, be made in these latter times of the world, when such repositories of knowledge have continued to accumulate as centuries have rolled on, and when the art of multiplying and cheapening copies by means of printing, has placed theni in almost every hand. An acquaintance with literature now demands no trifling allotment of time and attention from the higher and middle ranks of society; noreven am6ng the labouring classes is it altogether • Ecelcs xii. 12. ON" READING. liSl unknown. Books are not merely luxuries, but necessaries of life. Some species or other of tl\ese vehicles of intelligence, forms a daily bread to most educated minds. Now, since in that prodigious and endless multiplicity of books, with M^hich every part of the civilized world abounds, some are good, and others indifferent; — some edifying, and some pernicious ; — a judicicious selection of such as seem deserving of our own perusal, and of being placed in the hands of those to whom we wish well, must doubtless be of essential moment to morality and happiness. To parents and guardians of youth, I am well persuaded, few considerations can be more pregnant with anxiety: — but to hearers in general, the sub- ject, I think, must be interesting. Life being short and extremely precarious, Avhile business and other avocations occupy no inconsiderable portion of that limited and uncertain space, it must surely be useful to learn how the leisure left for reading admits of being the most pro- fitably employed. And our dispositions and characters being ever deeply tinctured by the nature of the ideas which we usually imbibe, all who place a value on their immortal spirits must be concerned in discovering what ideas, coming through the medium of study, it is de- sirable to receive, and what deserve to be C82 SERMON XV. avoided. For these reasons I have thought proper to turn my own meditations to a subject thus momentous, actuated by the humble hope of being not unserviceable in directing yours. Happy, shall I at this time prevail with any individual, to imitate the honourable converts mentioned in my text, w^ho brought their per- nicious books together, and burned them in the sight, or for the example, of all men. On this, as on every other subject of educa- tion, or branch of duty, the remarks of a Christian teacher ought, unquestionably, all to proceed on the great Christian doctrine of the natural depravity of man. We are to take it for granted in the outset, that the evil inclina- tions in the human breast are naturally far stronger than the virtuous tendencies; that divine grace is needful as a corrective of this condition; and that it is our consequent duty to shun, on the one hand, whatever may ob- struct, and on the other, to seek whatever is likely to favour, the descent of this blessed and necessary help. I. These fixed principles, then, being held steadily in view, it is obvious to remark, that BOOKS OF PiKTY ought to occupy somc part of the time allotted by us for reading. Moral phi- losophers, after laying down the principle, that ON READING, 283 idleness is the parent of transgression, and in- ferring from it that harmless or rational employ- ment will prove alone a sufficient safeguard of virtue, have confined their adrponitions respect- ing such a course of reading, as has for its ob- ject the cultivation of morality, to recommend- ing the dedication of the hours of leisure to the perusal of compositions addressed to the intellect and the fancy : and, as secondary op- ponents to temptation, we deny not (we shall presently indeed have occasion to observe more fully), that such works are admissible, and highly profitable. But if they be held up as the sole resistance to that powerful enemy, — any who consider that employment itself has its dangers, — who remember that man, in his natural con- dition, is at once assailed by external circum- stances, and by his own traitorous breast, cauT not entertain a moment's doubt as to their weakness. No relish, indeed, however eager, for the pleasures of the mind ; no engagement, however deep, in intellectual researches, can supply the absence of religious principle and occupation, as the great safeguard of moralitj-. The first practical rule, then, which I would offer, with regard to reading, is, that each re- volving day should commence and close with the perusal of a certain portion of the sacred writings. These, says the Apostle concerning the Eerean disciples, were more noble than ^84 SERMON XV. those of Thcssalonica — in that they searched the Scriptures daily^. This practice faithfully observed, and settled into a habit, will keep alive the spirit of devotion in the mind, which is too apt to be secularized by ordinary studies; and impart a seriousness and solidity to those pleasurable feelings, which even the most harmless recreations, when not thus guarded, are apt to elevate into the effervescence of levity. An employment thus salutary, will moreover be found not altogether unproductive of delight. Be assured, you will find it plea- sant, before going forth to your daily labour, to contrast the quiet, the repose, the benevo- lence of religion, with the noise, and jostlings, and selfishness of that crowd, among which you are about to mingle. So again in the even- ing, when you return weary with the business, — disquieted with beholding the sinfulness, — or ruffled by exposure to the crosses, the anxieties, and perplexities of life,-^how soothing to tran- quillize and to pillow the soul for a while, in appropriating the praises uttered by the' holy i'salmist; in accompanying the beneficent pil- grimage of the blessed Saviour; in reviewing the consolatory promises of God, and throwing yourself forward into that blessed state, where all is purity and unsullied enjoyment ! Here remorse fmds a promise of forgiveness tp the * Acts, xvli. 11- ON READING. 285 penitent, written in the blood of Christ : here affliction approaches a well of living waters, where, drinking, it will thirst no more. Youtli prepares for itself a shield and a stay, against the vicissitudes, the difficulties, the dangers and snares unto which it is destined : — and age discovers a charter of its inheritance beyond the tomb; — a Pisgah, which it may ascend to be- liold its land of rest, and learn to depart in peace*. ♦ To the perusal of the Sacred Volume it is necessary to advance with awe — We should cast off the shoes of worldly affections, and divest our minds of inconsiderate heedlessness, remembering that we tread the precincts of holy ground. (Exod. iii. 5.) Let us beseech God to cast his sunshine upon the dial ; to illuminate with his grace the volume of salva- tion 5 nor less to open the eyes of our understandings, that we may clearly see, and obey the wonderous things of his law. (Psalm cxix. 18.) Let us read more with an humble wish for edification in the faith, than with a view to gratify the vain curiosity of research, or to foster the proud spirit of disputa- tiousness j desiring the sincere milk of the word. (1 Pet. ii. 2.) By reading the sacred book of truth progressively, and in pursuance of a fixed and regular plan, we shall avoid the error of regarding the facts as unconnected with each other, or the precepts as a collection of loose detached aphorisms. Viewing it as a great whole, we shall contemplate each pas- sage as being a stone in a mighty arch ; — a branch in a large tree J — a limb in a body, to which there is a corresponding limb j~—a piece which fits into a vast machine, and in the ab- sence of which something essential would be wanting. In the account of the creation of man in happiness; of his temptation and expulsion from paradise ; of the gradual unfold- ing of prophecies relating to tlie Messiah; of the Levitical 286 SERMON XV. In addition to the Bible, there are other volumes of piety well meriting a considerable institutions, types, and ordinances referring to Lhe same august and blessed Personage—of his appearance, life, crucifixion, death, and resurrection—of the subsequent apostolic miracles ■wrought— effusions of divine grace bestowed — sufferings un- dergone— -epistles penned — and a final prophetic revelation vouchsafed, we shall trace the origin, developement, and pro- gress towards accomplishment of one magnificent, compre- hensive, and wonderful plan for raising the human race from the ruins of a first fall ; for preserving them from a second, and 3 more deplorable lapse 5 for rendering them vt^ise, good, and eternally happy. Thus, the whole body, fitly joined to- o^ether, and compacted by that which every joint supplieth^ maketh increase of itself unto the edifying that is in Christ. (Eph. iv. 16.) Such awful information, we must needs acknowledge, de- serves not to be glanced over in a cursory manner, or penised in a listless or wandering frame of mind. Search the Scrip- tures, is the injunction of our Saviour (John, v. 39) ; and to search must mean more than to skim the surface, or to dip into the contents. — It is to read, to mark, to learn, and in- wardly to digest. It is deeply to ponder, thoroughly to exa- mine, and patiently to meditate. It is, above all, to make spiritual and particular application of the truths and- precepts which we there find delivered, to the state of our own souls; to ask ourselves, whether we have been guilty of the vices reprobated, or have cultivated any of the virtues extolled ; whether we have repented, and sought reconciliation in the manner which these sacred documents prescribe j whether, agreeably to their mandates, we rely on the divine succour, nnd perceive ourselves to be growing in holiness and true wisdom. It is to place the example of our Lord and Master before us ; to cultivate and cherish that temper of love, that pnace of mind, that harmony of the affections, the air of the 3 ON READING. ii87 share of your attention : — such, for example, as are needful to elucidate its information, by commentary, interpretation, and paraphrase ; — by methodizing its facts, and explaining its geography and antiquities;—- such as represent to reason and conviction the evidences in favour of the truth of Christianity; as illustrate its doctrines, or record its history as a church ; — not forgetting those which more immediately point to the grand object, for the sake of which the others are chiefly recommended, — a life of faith and repentance, of piety, and of active obedience. I shall only for the present add, under this head of discourse, that next to the word of God, such books appear especially to be the proper employment of the morning and evening hours of the Sabbath : of which solemn day, I hesitate not to pronounce, it is some profana- tion to dedicate any the slightest portion to or- dinary intellectual culture; iiiorc particularly in the case of those to whom ample opportuni- ties are afforded, for this latter species of appli- cation, during the week. highest heavens, which the religion of Jesus breathes, and which it was his benevolent purpose to diffase. It is, in one word, to consider the sacred writings as profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness i and as given that the man o' God may be perfect, thoroughl/ furnished unto all good works, and wise unto salvation. (2 Tim, iii. IG.) 28 S SERMON XVc IL These observations have superseded the necessity for my dwelling with minuteness on the next description of reading demanding notice; — I mean the consultation of books ad- dressed to the understanding : — books of history and philosophy ; of fact and argument. We are, certainly, not required to devote all our hours to religion, or to confine the range of our application, exclusively, to religious writings. The great scheme of education embraces a wide circle of science ; — and to the moderate pur- suit of all its various departments, the strictest Christian may without harm or blame addict himself. Sucli pursuits indeed may, with safety, be pronounced, not merely harmless, but emi- nently conducive to morality. By introducing a taste for intellectual pleasures, they much abate the force of sensual appetite. By pro- vi(Ung for the mind a fund of solid employment, they prevent the encroachment of that variety of temptations, which are incidental and fatal to vacuity : — as the soil pre-occupied with healthy and useful plants is preserved secure from weeds. Intellectual pursuits may be fur- ther recommended as tending to instil a so- briety of thinking, highly favourable and closely allied to religious habits : — an examining fore- cast, a practice of connecting causes and ef- fects, which is frequently found to resist the aggression of temptation, by applying its ge- ON READING. 28^ ueraMiabits of reflection, and maxims of judg- ment, to a consideration of the remote evil consequences of indulgence. These studies form a domestic and contemplative disposition : — rendering the mind independent on the fri- volous circles of gay society, or the more pe- rilous haunts of public amusement, for its re- creation from employment, or its relief from languor. They impart to their votaries both a fitness and a predilection for the society of the wise, the grave, and the respectable : — while any who are unacquainted with them are, for the most part, observed to betake themselves to a participation in the noisy revelry of licen- tious, or in the idle folly of frivolous associates. Among the praises of intellectual research it is not the least, that it supplies materials, for in- nocent, if not profitable conversation : pre- cluding the necessity of recurring for topics of discourse, to slander, frivolity, or indelicacy,— those constant and melancholy resources of the vacant mind. To persons also unfortunate in irritable dispositions, or endued with keen sen- sibility, it will serve as a wholesome counter- action of the natural temperament; — correcting violence by the frequent exercise of reasoning; and blunting too nice a susceptibility of feeling, by employments which tend to elevate the judg- ment above the imagination. Such studies are 290 S£R?fO?7 XV. furely much more suitable to beings endowed with reason, and distinguished from the inferior ani- mals by peculiar privileges, than the low occu- pations, which, if these were absent, would supply their place in the attention and affec- tions. They prevent all occasion for having recourse, through idleness, — they in a great measure wean the mind from a desire to have recourse, to reading, of either a pernicious or a trifling description. To these remarks I cannot refrain from adding, that v/ell-disposed minds must derive unfeigned satisfaction from observing, that the mental improvement of the gentler sex has engaged particular attention in modern systems of education; since all the advantages now recounted have a further ten- dency, in their case, to elevate the morality, and to enlarge the happiness of families, by drawiiio' closer the tie which binds man to his CD partner, in assimilating their minds, and re- fming tlieir endearments ;— as well as by ren- dering the mother more useful and expert in conducting the education of her child. On these accounts I deem it not imprope(r for the Christian minister to recommend an atten- tion to intellectual improvement;— -to propose a well-chosen selection, of books in History and Eiograph'y ; in Moral Philosophy, and in Na- tural Science ; — to introduce Knowledge and ON READING. 291 Eeasoii to the notice of his hearers, as hand- maids of Piety, and a5 inferior means of grace. All along, howe"rer, it is proper to keep in mind, that mental pursuits are still to be pre- ceded and accompanied,— to be guided and hal- lowed by religious application. This is that grace before the course of intellectual food, which converts it to spiritual use and nourish- Bient. For if intellectual studies be permitted by us to retain an uncorrected and undivided empire over the mind, it is not to be concealed th-at they will produce sufficient evil, nearly to counterbalance all their boasted advantages. From the secret sense of mental superiority which they confer, will be generated a proud and overbearing spirit ; — a dangerous disposi- tion, which, while it trariaples upon men, is not far from haughtily exalting itself against God. Eager to monopolize the praise of his own acquire- ments, the irreligious scholar hastens to deny the |>articular providence, and to dispute the authority of the Great Besto\ver of his qualifications. One Christian doctrine is dismissed after another; — the divinity of the Saviour, — the power of his atonement^ — tlie influences of the Spirit, — are ail successively summoned before the tribunal of arrogant talent, and condemned. Such pre- judlees, gaining strength, will lead on, in course u 2 ?9^ SLRMON XV. of time, to other vain speculations on tire acci- dental formation, and high unscriptural an- tiquity of the globe ; — on the mechanism of the soul ; — or on the supposed d'escent of the human race from various parent stocks ; — concerning all which, humble, unsophisticated faitli, and calm reason informed by revelation, and not warped by pride, would never have entertained a doubt. Ere long passion corrupts the intellectual guards, who are set to keep watch around the moral principle ; and the proud son of science, desti- tute of internal purity, of honest conscience, and of any solid foundation of virtue, derives from his stores of knowledge and his improved niental ability, only the power of throwing a flimsy, but fallacious, colouring over the naked deformity of his licentiousness; — of wrapping up falsehood in ingenious sophistry; — of making a vicious appear an excusable or proper conduct ; — of concealing from himself and from his brethren his real condition ; — in short, of palliating depravity with plausible, defences, and of decking it out in the fascina- tions of refinement. It will be further advisable, in the acquisition of intellectual knowledge, to mingle in no small degree, meditation with reading. As the or- dinary food of man is designed by the Creator to repair his exhausted strength, and to adapt OV READING. 25)3 him for the resumption of his labour, he who pampers and gluts his hitellectual appetite by devouring more than can well be arranged in his mind, or converted to the wise end of bene- fiting himself and others, may be regarded as the epicure or sluggard of the understanding. Lay aside your book, and commune with your own heart.— Understand I what I read *, and do I find it truly profitable?— Is the matter nearly, and in every distant bearing, reconcile- able to the doctrines and precepts of Chris- tianity ? — How may its information be applied to the good of men ? — Does it furnish any re- flections morally useful to myself? — May it not assist in confirming my belief in immortality ? ■ — supply natural prooft of the existence and providence of God? — or, in its lowest value, discover the imperfections of natural know- ledge? May I not Jearn from it, in contem- plating the vast powers of man, to adore the great Being, who is the bestower of these powers, or perhaps to lament that they have not, in the instance before me, been better em- ployed, for the welfare of his creatures and the promotion of his glory ? Is there any thing in what I have been reading which perplexes, or endangers? — then, before I proceed further, }et me seriously consider within myself, whe- ther it will not be better to turn to some other * Acts, viii. 30, y 3 £94: SLRMON XV. Study; — ar, at least, let me pray for inental illumination; — invoke moralprinciple to preside over my speculations; — and betake myself, with a teachable spirit for instruction, to the coun- sel of some prudent and upright friend. While I am here enjoying the selfish luxury of the understanding, have I been careful to allot a just and reasonable proportion of time to the discharge of my social and active charities? Never let me forget that my intellectual cul- ture ought principally to retain this essential object in view : — and let me cheerfully quit the chamber of seclusion and study, whenever a benevolent service waits to be performed. It will be further for my advantage to note the frequent distinction betwixt the professed object, and the general tendency of a book. It may profess to inculcate some useful prin- ciple, while it actually unhinges belief, or sets all the passions in a flame. That book is ever the best, which excites in the mind an appetite for benevolence; — a hunger, whose cravings are intolerable, until they be satisfied by tlie perforixance of some act of duty or of kind- ness. In my admiration of the vast achievements, and the shining virtues recorded in the page of history, has the love of power, — has a passion ON READIlsrG. 29 ^ for vain-glory insensibly possessed my breast: — or have 1 overlooked, as inconsiderable objects to a great mind aspiring after noble things, and emulous of single acts of heroism, the unosten- tatious, unpraised, unnoticed virtues of the shade, — the principle of integrity inviolable in trifles, and those domestic duties, and that perennial suavity of disposition, which so often powerfully contribute towards th€ happiness of common hfe? III. But is the whole of the time, you ^yill ask, appropriated to reading, to be engrossed by these more serious studies ; to be entirely di- vided betwixt religion and science ? Shall the mind at no time be permitted to unbend it&elf among the lighter pleasures which solicit its notice? From the amendment of the heart, and the culture of the understanding, can no moments be spared or allowed for relaxation, in wandering among the bowers of fancy ? By JIG means. The blooming garden of taste is open to the Christian, not less than the ani- mating steep of science. From many of the preceding arguments, which appear to have fully warranted our permission and reconv jnendation of scientific acquirements, we may likewise deduce the lawfulness, if not the expe- dience, of bestowing some share of attention V 4 ^^6 SERMON XV. on elegant literature. This general permission must, nevertheless, be understood as granted under strict limitations. Light reading, it must never be forgotten by us, is not properly study, but recreation ; and as such, must ever hold that subordinate place to the exercises of the heart and the understanding, which amuse^ ment, in general, bears to serious business. Again, the child of mortality must consider the value of time. Remembering the brevity and insecurity of his days, and the ample variety of more serious acquisitions, added to the ex- treme difficulty of attaining them, — he ought to bring himself to require as little relief in lighter pursuits, as is consistent with bodily health, and with mental vigour. But the chief reason w^hich should content the disciple of Jesus with a cautious and abstemious use of w^orks of fancy, is the tendency of too many of them to encourage instead of thwarting, to cherish instead of suppressing, our inborn and latent principle of evil. Many writers, of splendid genius, it is true, have consecrated tljeir endowments to the service of God; have rendered the maxims of sacred truth, and the contemplations of pure devotion, more worthy of being styled the beauty of holiness. Like David, they have called their lyres and glory to awake in the praise of religion or virtue: and resolved that the statutes of the Bestower ON READING. 297 of tlieir gifts, should he their songs in the house of their pilgrimage*. Others there are, whose alluring productions, though less pro- fessedly calculated to promote the divine glory, deserve not to he totsdly condemned or over- looked. As affording a harmless employment and a pure delight; — as enriching the fancy, and improving the taste; — as thus enlarging the stock of innocent pleasures, and furnishing matter for conversation at once interesting; and inoffensive; — as investing mental pursuits with their proper supremacy over the appetites of sense ; — in fine, as useful, under divine aid, in softening that asperity, refining that coarse- ness, arid melting that insensibility, by which many tempers are distinguished, they may, un- less I judge rashly, be, with propriety, em- braced in the scope of ministerial recommenda^ tions. But wherever passion is constitutionally violent, and the natural susceptibility of the feelings acute, I am regardless of obloquy, while I pronounce it as my candid opinion, — • that almost all works of fancy whatever are pernicious, and ought to be carefully withheld from the eyes of youth. Does not prudence urge the necessity of counteracting that pro- pensity, which already hovers upon the borders of moral disease? When you encourage and foster it, by indulging your child or pupil in ai; *- Psalm Ivii. 8. and cxix. 54. egS SERMON XV. unchecked perusal of works of imagination, arc you not, with mistaken kindness, adding a steepness to the slope, a spark to the tinder, and wings to the whirlwind? Than such be- haviour in a parent or superintendent, with re- ference to a young mind, endued by nature with ardour or tenderness of disposition, what can be imagined more injudicious, more in- discreet, more cruel, or more criminal * ? Of works of fancy there is one denomina- tion, which the very general passion for it ob- servable in the present age compels me to single out for an amplified animadversion. You are already aware, I think I may conjecture, from the smile which plays upon the cheek of levity, that I allude to those fictitious representations of life and manners, with which many of those who hear me, I am sorry to express my fears, are but too deeply and too daily acquainted. That I may here avoid declamatory and unrea- sonable abuse, I shall guard my observations on the present .head, in the outset, by making two admissions, which might, as I conceive, be deemed by all to be sufficiently liberal. First, to a small number of these tales of fancy (though such exceptions are exceedingly few), the strictures to be offered may not be applicable * Sponte sua properant, labor est inhibere volemtes, Oy;n, ON READING. f.99 in their full extent: — some, I will not deny, may be perused without danger; some perhaps .even with considerable improvement; — since they may fairly merit the character assigned them by an austere moralist, " of having taught the passions to move at the command of vir- tue." Secondly, a very wide distinction is to be observed betwixt a rare recourse to such literary gratifications, in a season of recreation, of anxiety, of despondence, or of bodily pain; • — and the abuse, the culpability, the vice of devoting to them some of the best liours of almost every day, in this our short, sole, so^ lemn time of probation. Under these limitations I proceed to observe broadly, concerning fictitious and romantic narratives in general, that before an assemblage of Christian auditors, they cannot be men- tioned without marked disapprobation. It will not be denied, that the study of them is a waste of time; — for what, I would ask, is their or- dinary character? Is it not that of the most flimsy, frivolous, insignificant of performances? It is the natural tendency of novels, — (for why should I hazard being here misunderstood, by searching about for vain circumlocutions?)—* to indispose the mind for solid and serious ap- plication, for historical narrative, or philoso- phical disquisition ; — as the palate accustomed 300 SERMON XV. to higli-seasoned delicacies soon loses all relish for plain and wholesome food. The habit of devouring them is usually, indeed, progressive, beo'innin": with the amusement of some vacant hour, and in the sequel engrossing the entire attention. It is no ordinary mind that can re- turn with facility, from the brilliant images and the fairy land of fiction, to the sober lights, and the rough soil, and the didactiq plainness of truth. By valumes of romance, the imagination, that dangerous guide, is invested with a sove^ reign ty over the sober judgment : — tlie feelings placed above the reason of man. To the one sex is imparted an adventurous unsettled dispo- sition, unfavourable to the regular pursuit of an useful calling : — to the otlier an insatiable desire of attracting notice, a love of splendour and of stratagem, of brilliant accomplishment, and of public appearance, not less inimical to the meek and quiet ornament of solid qualities and dor mestic virtues. "While a false sensibility is thus infused into the young breast, the acquaintance w ith coun- terfeit distress, which is opened by this course of reading, will inevitably prove destructive of genuine and useful feeling: — for not only does danger arise from- -the habit of separating tho ON READING. 301 sensation of sympathy from that active relief which it was implanted in the breast to prompt, and from which it ought on no occasion to be dissociated ; — but the real sorrows of life are usually found accompanied with circumstances of homeliness, sufficient to repel, in loathing and disgust, that fastidious taste, which has expatiated only amongst elegant and fancy*- wrought afflictions. Still more unfavourable must be the tales of wild adventure to right impressions of religion; — creating that sickly propensity for being amused with flowers, and dissolved in tears, and interested by suspense, which finds only insipidity in the once read narratives of Scripture, and turns away from the useful and awful doctrines of Christianity, as from learned subtleties and theological barbarisms, foreign to the refinement of a delicate, and a polished mind. Many of these works make pretensions to a moral ; — or, in different words, they convey some cold recondite maxim, which it is difficult to discover amidst a magazine of immorality, or, at best, a mass of unprofit- ableness. To administer an inflammatory potion with so weak a corrective, is to poison, for the sake of trying the experiment of an antidote ; — or wantonly to set fire to a temple, in the hopes of extinguishing the flames with a cup of SOS SEimON XY, water. In general, the real ©bj€ct is ex- clusivcly to please, no matter in what way that end shall be attained ; — and as the gentle reader, be sure, is the most effectually pleased by being flattered in his errors, and soothed in his indul- gences, they are, for the most part, little else than an artful tissue of apologies for error, and palliatives of indulgence. Here you will see justice halting after generosity, — mental so- briety and seriousness stigmatized as enthu- siasm, — a regard for the Christian doctrines pronounced illiberal bigotry, — vice extenuated with the soft name of indiscretion, — ^artifice represented as the proof of superior understand- ing,— and, in fine, a spurious honour usurping the seat of faith,, the only solid and stable prin- ciple of obedience. To fictitious histories it may yet further be objected, that the much-boasted fidelity of their resemblance to real life is |>erhaps their greatest evil. By exhibiting to admiration those mixed characters, that compound of vice and virtue which we usually encounter in society, an im- perfect standard of morality is established, which the unwary are but too prone to satisfy themselves with attaining, while they lose sight of the only safe and legitimate model, the blameless and faultless Son of the Most High. ON READING. 303 This lukewarm contentedness with impcr* feet obedience, will take the firmer hold in the minds of inexperienced readers, if repre- sented, and it is commonly represented, as the object of love, and praise, and remunera* tion in the present existence. Farew^ell then all remembrance of man's probationary con- dition; — farewell all trust in Providence under adversity; — farewell the conviction that the recompenses of Heaven are, through the Sa- viour's mediation, proposed only to the holiness that is still purifying, still dissatisfied with its attainments ;— to the light which, though it may never shine forth as the perfect day, is continually making nearer approaches to it. And in thus anticipating the allotments of fu- turity, one powerful argument of natural re- ligion in favour of an hereafter is defeated. Attachment is fixed on the present scene; and the motives are weakened for seeking with all the desires, affections, and energies of the soul, that state where alone true joys are to be found. In general, even the least exceptionable among novels are fir from being orthodox in the religious principles they inculcate. The reclaimed transgressor makes his peace with God, by the Deism of an imperfect repent- ance, an^ not by the Christianity of faith and 304 SERMON XV. spiritual help, — of a death unto all sin, and a new birth unto all righteousness. In the mean time, nothing is more common with the more virtuous characters, than an irreverent use of the highest and noblest Name, on every trivial occa- sion of surprise or indignation, of joy or sor- row ; or even of simple assertion or denial. Our time, I perceive, however, is far spent; — and though I had much more to offer on this fruitful and momentous subject, I am com- pelled here to draw my observations to a close. Since men transfer their minds to the pages which they write, the world, as long as it shall abound with vicious authors, will necessarily be filled with vicious publications. Hence a prudent and careful selection of those Avriters, with whose works you or yours are to cultivate a familiarity, becomes to you, my friends, a matter of the utmost moment : for by indiscri- minately consulting all which are presented to your notice, you convert reading, which in ge- neral indicates, and, if well-regulated, would certainly establish, solidity of character and ele- vation above the baser appetites, into a dan- gerous engine for the murder of time, the de- struction of principle, and the tainting of purity '^. * If the motive indeed for reading be a desire of solid im- provement, a judicious selection of authors will be more ON READING. 305 '* Evil communication corrupts good manners," is a maxim as applicable to books as to men : for what is the perusal of any volume, but acquaintance, intercourse, communication with the author? Hence, as the characters of men are inferred from those of their associates ; — it vi^ill follow on the same principle, that the cha- racter of their library would furnish no less certain a key to their own. This w^ould show accurately whether the disposition of the owner be pious, pure, grave, solid, active, — or scep- tical, sensual, frivolous, vain, indolent. Would you deem it then a disgrace to be found in the confidence of a person notorious for depraved or contemptible moral character? — think it equally dishonourable to retain in your posses- sion a book of which the principles are noxious. By one great and glorious victory over Satan,— by an effort truly worthy of a disciple of Jesus, let me entreat you to purify your repository of instruction : to gather, if I may so speak, the wheat into your garner, and to separate the chaff for the fire; — in plain language, to collect together all such productions as are in any way inimical to Christian faith, or to pure morals • —and although the computed price were fifty effectually secured, than when the object proposed is to enable vanity to discuss, in the circles of gay society _, the merits o " every novelty of the day. 506 SERMON XV. thousand pieces of silver, to burn them before all men. This destruction you owe to yourself and to your brethren ; — and not only to the present race, but to a generation yet unborn. For if, through your failure to deliver the world, as much as lies in your power, from so fruitful and poisonous a root of temptation, your child, your domestic, your neighbour, or any one of your posterity, shall, in time to come, be vitiated; at whom, I would ask, does the Gospel point its denunciations ? — JFoe be to hwi xvho shall in^ jure one of these little ones ; — or to him by whom offences come ; — Terily I say unto you^ it were far better for that man, that a mill-stone were hanged about his neck, and that he were cast irito the sea *. At that awful tribunal before which we must all appear, and to which we are all so rapidly hastening forward, the two great questions to be proposed to us, w^e may believe, are these : — First, *' In what manner have you em- ployed the time of probation?" and secondly, ** How did you improve those means of grace, which Heaven vouchsafed to you during your earthly course?'* Inconsiderate mortal! how acute will be thy compunction/ how deep thy ♦ Matt, xviii. 6, 7. ON READING. 507 dismay, how dreadful, and, alas! how well- grounded thy apprehensions, if to the former of these interrogatories thou shalt only be able to answer, — " That precious time which con- science and Scripture commanded me to devote to the diligent discharge of domestic duties, and to the solid improvement of my mind and heart, I have wasted ; — foolishly, pro- fusely wasted, in dreaming over idle and un- profitable pages :" — and to the latter of them, — " All the proffered dispensations of grace, I have lived but to reject and to oppose: — their errand was to purify the soul ; — my studies and amusements have tended to corrupt it ; — ^I have been long loosening the faith which they sought to confirm; — fostering that voluptuousness which they essayed to extinguish ; — and instead of elevating my affections above the world, in a compliance with their benevolent suggestions, I have ever addicted my mind to a vain appli- cation, tending to no purpose but that of ri- vetting my attachment, to its pleasures, its pomps, its advantages, and its renown," X 9. 308 SERMON XVI. ON DESPAIR. PSALM CXLVir. VERSE 3. He healeth the broken in hearty and bindeth up their zvounds. In. addressing the common children of adver- sity, topics of consolation can be derived Vv^ith effect, from that constant vicissitude which is observable in human affairs. We may call on them to put their trust in a powerful and bene- ficent Providence, able and well inclined to disperse those heavy clouds, which for the time lower upon their condition; and to over- spread the sky with its wonted serenity. As we warn the proud man, who exults in his prosperity, not to boast himself of to-morrow, we may say, wuth equal propriety, to the vic- tim of despondence, Take courage^ and hope for better on the 7norroxv ; — assigning the same reason for the caution and the consolation; — Thou knoxce.'it not what a day may bring forth *. But there exists a far more unfortunate class of sufferers, to whom such considerations cannot * Prov. xxvii. 1. ON DESPAIR. 309 be applied : those, I mean, whose aflilictions are distino'uislied from the usual woes of hu- manity in this; — that their lot is cast unal- terably ; their peace irrecoverably wrecked ; — that they can look for no change in their me- lancholy condition, but in the silence and for- getfulness of the tomb : — who sit, as on a lonely rock, in the midst of gathering darkness and rising waters ; — where no voice can be heard, and no object descried : — and who have only now to prepare for the last advancing wave, which shall sweep them away into ob- livion. This is despair; — the last extremity of sor- row ; — a deplorable state, demanding of every by-stander the deepest commiseration and the tenderest assistance. Under other forms and circumstances of affliction, the sufterer will struggle and expect; and his efforts and prospects \w\\\, to no small extent, diminish the pressure of his burden, and preserve the spring and cheerfulness of his disposition. If fortune has been unfavourable, it may again prove kind to him ; — when labouring under pain, he may look for relief and quiet ; — when an obstacle interposes itself in any of his worldly pursuits, he may be stimulated to redoubled exertions in sur- mounting it. When surrounded by the hea-> X 3 310 SERMON XVI. viest and most complicated calamities, if of such a nature as to admit but the faintest hope of dehverance, the heart will be loath to sink» While the bare possibility of escape yet re- mains, the natural buoyancy of a sanguine mind will fondly conceive what is distantly pos- sible to be that which is likely to occur. Such instances of distress are the injirmities incidental to humanity, which the spirit of a man can easily sustain*. But who can sustain, by the unaided force of reason, that affliction of the mind, that depth of tribulation, in which every ray of promise is gone, and the darkness is total : — in which a long and dismal winter hath set in, that brings no prospect of a spring; — and wherein the reed of hope, which could have born up its head against the ordinary fury of the elements, is itself bruised and broken ? Conie, then, my brethren, let us employ the present moments in contemplating and com- passionating that class of our fellow-beings, unto whom the description now delivered re- fers : — the most unhappy of an unhappy race. You will hereby exercise 3^our better feelings; — you will learn resignation under your own less severe trials ' — in considering a lot which you know not how soon you may endure, you may hope to derive benefit by learning its duties and * Prov. xviii. 14. ON DESPAIR. 311 consolations ;— or should you fortunately con- tinue, in your own person, exempt from it, you will at least experience advantage in learning what arguments are proper to be addressed by the voice of Christian friendship and sympathy, to any whom it may have already befallen. Of these, some, I doubt not, are now assem- ,bled with us;— and to such our subject must, in no ordinary degree, be interesting. I may perhaps be to-day addressing myself to not a few, who have suffered in their minds wounds for which there is no conceivable cure, by the total frustration of their favourite scheme, by the complete disappointment of those prospects and wishes, in which they had centred the whole enjoyment of their lives. I imagine myself speaking in secret to the soul of some mourner, hopelessly bewailing the irreconcile- able alienation of that familiar friend who had eaten of his bread, and drunk of his cup, and been unto him as a daughter. Hither may have repaired other children of sorrow, from whose countenances health has altogether de- parted ; who have become weary of searching it from fountain to fountain, and of seeing the fair illusion flee from before them, — and who can mark that disease, which will in its time destroy, advancing by slow degrees, but with X 4 31'2 SERMON XVX. a steady and a fearful progress. Here too, amongst our fellow-worshippers, may a differ- ent class be numbered, who having, in one un- guarded moment, been betrayed into a deed of shame, find that not all the sincerest and bit- terest contrition can avail to recall their for- feited good name, or to reinstate them in their place in society; — whose glory among men is departed, — and whose pride of reputation is humbled to rise no more. A separate band, it is probable, may be convened, whose relish is palled for the richest delights of life, since some with whom they once took pleasure in participating them, have vanished from the light of day, and have been brought to their long home; — who wander over the world as through a desolate wilderness, sad, lonely, and dissatisfied ; — seeking not rest, because by them it cannot be found ; — and mournfully conscious that no good can happen unto them, iiiitil they too shall have arrived at the dark and narrow dwelling, appointed as the termina- tion of their labours. In vain to all these, the sun looks abroad in his beautv, and the fields are clothed in their pride. Sweet odours breathe no refreshment on their senses; — the voice of glad music will only increase their dejection; — and on witnessing a mirth which they shall never more experience, the oppres- sion of their spirits unburdens itself in tears. ON DESPAIR. 313 While others are happy, they are mourning for their joys ; and refuse to be comforted, because they are not '^. Passed away, as a dream, are the days of their cheerfulness : — vanished is that alacrity Vv hich sprang up amidst transitory evils, from the smiling promise of a better change. With the Patriarch they say, Our purposes are broken off'\. Their pulses of activity have ceased to throb : for the fire has o-one out; — the inward strength has failed: — " The wheel is broken at the cistern |." Weeks, and months, and years flow on ; — but no interval of gladness breaks in upon the gloom. " Day unto day uttereth speech §;" — but it is all the same long tale of sorrow. With them heavi- ness endureth for the night; but joy cometh not in the morning ||. O ! sons and daughters of remediless cala- mity, to you, who have, as it were, bidden adieu to the world, revealed religion spreads forth her arms. She beckons you from a scene, where the star of expectation hath set, where all is now over with you, and calls you to come unto her, that ye may recover your rest. She it is who hath power to heal the broken in heart; — whose hand can bind up those deep and painful wounds, into which the world has no balm to pour. * Jer. xxxi. 15. f Job, xv. 11. % Eccles. xli. 6. § Psalm xix. 2. || Psalm xxx. 5. 314 SERMON XVI. What then, let us inquire, are the consider- ations which revelation presents, adapted to the condition of this class of sufferers ? Here consolation must necessarily be preceded by advice; since it is only by attending to the admonitions to be presented, that the subse- quent words of peace can be confidently relied on, as available to the imparting of substantial relief. I. First, then, I would most earnestly en- treat the unhappy individuals, whose sorrows I have undertaken to console, that, in this total extinction of their earthly happiness and hopes, they make not shipwreck of that more precious, — that inestimable treasure, — the conscience void of offence towards God and towards man *. Unable as are the sons of men to control the course of evenits, and to avoid the sorest calamities of this existence, it is indeed, by a blessed appointment of Pro- vidence, that one rich possession ever remains, of which neither the accidents nor the cala- mities, that take away all things else, can deprive them ; — of which they cannot be bereaved, but by their own consent. How desirable to se- cure, — for we are able to secure, — that pleasing satisfaction, which must have sprung up in the mind of the Patriarch, — from reflecting that he could say, without presumption or self- * Acts, xxiv. IQ. ON DESPAIR. 31 J deceit, after Satan had applied trials which he had reason to beHeve were without remedy: — All) hoxvevei^ is not yet lost: — my lighteousness I hold fast^ and ivill not let it go : — viy heart shall not reproach me so long as I live *. By the conscience void of offence, it is, however, by no means necessary to understand a mind 'entirely free from any self-reproach, on account of past misconduct. If this were strictly requisite, no peace could be promised, no encouragement offered, to any among the victims of despair : for no spotless conscience, corresponding to the description, could in all the world be found. And here it is, that the excellence of the Christian dispensation shines forth pre-eminently above all other religions. It would not, in circumstances of worldly despair, be very practicable, even for the most virtuous,-^! would say for the most presump- tuous Heathen or Deist, to find satisfaction from examining the chambers of his own heart, since he would there assuredly encounter, in the remembrance of many trespasses, and in the consciousness of much remaining infirmity, a source of anxious distrust with regard to his acceptance in the presence of a pure and a just God. But the religion of atonen^ent provides a remedy for the past, the religion of grace a * Job, xxvii. 6. 3l6 SERMON XVI. copious succour for the future : and in the mild and Hberal interpretation of the Gospel, the unoffending conscience is held to signify no more than a conscience full of contrition, and faith, and humility, free from any present bur- den of habitual or presumptuous offence, and sincerely resolved on amendment and obedi- ence, in reliance on the aids of Heaven, for the time to come. This it is fully in the power of fallen and frail creatures to obtain and to pre- serve: — and no man can be deemed sunk in the extremity of wretchedness, in absolute and entire despair, so long as he thus possesses that internal peace, which prognosticates quietness and assurance for ever. Blest in this ample source of satisfaction, if we cannot heal, we can at least much alleviate, the wounds of a broken spirit*. From the statement now submitted, you will perceive it to follow as a corollary, that to those who hold the Christian faith, in its grand principles of mediation and communicated strength, no ground is afforded for any such gloomy feeling, as that of religious despair. Let no one, however criminal, imagine him- self excluded from mercy, or fallen from good beyond the possibility of rising. The merits of the Saviour's passion are extended to the chief of shiners ; and even the frailest and the * Isaiah, xxxii. 17. ON DESPAIR. 317 feeblest of mankind is encouraged to look up to a celestial Helper for a sufiiciency, by which his trespasses will be removed, — his weakness invigorated. Though thy sins have been as scarlet, they shall be white as the driven snow : — though they be deeper than crimson, they shall be as the purest wool *. II. But while to those who are bereft of all present hope, we thus earnestly recommend, in general, the heart sprinkled from an evil con- science, it seems necessary to inculcate, as more particularly indispensable to their posses- sion of this invaluable treasure, the duty of entire submission to the blow which has cast them down, and of patient continuance unto the end in their suiferings, however exquisite and however hopeless. With such unhappy characters it is too common, we may express our fear, to dispense, in different degrees, with this important duty, without duly arraigning themselves at the bar of conscience. Too often do they regard the fulness of their cup of woe, as affording them a privilege for im- patience and murmuring; not remembering that He to whose sorrow never sorrow was like, afforded them in his last extremity an example of the meekest submission. Nay, some among them, even Christian believers, in their dark * Isaiah, i. 18. 318 SERMON XVI. and heavier moments, are known to have made endeavours, strange though it be to tell, to recon- cile to their sense of religion and dwty, the com- mission of that desperate and inexpiable act, in which nature is armed against itself. Persuading themselves, that since they are inevitably and completely cut off by Providence, from all en- joyment in the present scene, the Almighty who made them to be happy, is too good and merciful to be offended at their flying to the sole rehef which remains to them, they have gone tlie length of justifying self-destruction on Christian principles, and of even ennobling it into a Christian virtue. " What father," it is asked, in a popular and insidious publication, '^ what father would not greet, with more than pity and forgiveness, with his warmest w^el- come, and his tenderest love, that son, wdio, able to find no happiness abroad, should hasten back to seek it in his presence?" A dangerous and most false suggestion, my brethren; — for observe, in the case of those to whom it is ad- dressed in the world, the Father says, " Go forth for a season; — suffer what I inflict; — suffer it that ye may return meet for that in- heritance which I prepare for you ; — / am the judge when you shall have suffered enough: — and I will then, rest assured, call you to my home and presence : — but beware of returning until your sunnnons shall arrive; — lest ye in- ON DESPAIR. 319 trucle before you have fully earned your offered remuneration ; lest ye share the sad lot of the unprofitable and disobedient; and find too late that the unbidden desertion of your trial has only served to purchase for you a removal, from one scene of sorrow to another and a more intolerable." Again ; — There are certain cases of human despair, such, for example, as those of ruined reputation, or irremediable disease, which pre- clude the possibility, in many instances, of the sufferer's continuing any longer to discharge, as formerly, the ordinary duties of his station in life; — and under such circumstances he is apt, during his moods of dejection, to tell himself, that as man has been placed on this earth, solely, as it would appear, for purposes of utility, he, who is no longer an advantage or an ornament, but who has become a blot and an incumbrance to society, will act, not only excusably, but fitly, in delivering his brethren from the burden of their services, for which he has now no equivalent to offer; — in leaving, voluntarily, a place where his presence is of no use, and from whence, he doubts not, his de- parture is desired. But, my Christian brother, have you fully ascertained, or is it infallibly true, that the 320 SERMON" XVI. ONLY end of your existence upon earth, is the production of advantage to others? How know you, but that the Ahiiighty may have designs in placing you on trial, which centre exclusively in yourself? As he neither creates nor preserves in vain, is not this rendered, to say the least, probable (supposing for a moment that all power of utility whatever is taken away from you), by the very circumstance of your not being yet removed? May he not perceive that your heart is not yet thoroughly regene- rated, and that a little longer space of en- durance is necessary, in order to purify and to perfect you through suffering ? Admitting, how- ever, the extremely questionable doctrine, that utility to your brethren is the sole end of your present existence, have you duly considered whether you may not even still be useful to them, — HIGHLY useful, and that in the most essential points,- — as a model of piety, as an example of resignation, as a monument of sore affliction, which may greatly serve to reconcile tliem to evils less severe than yours; — yet evils which the sufferers would deeiti altogether in- tolerable, unless they could be contrasted with others of a heavier nature * ? * These observations, it is trusted, afford a full answer to the contemptible sophistry of Rousseau, as contained in the 114th letter of his Eloise. ** We have a right to put an end to our life, when it is no longer agreeable to ourselves, or advan» ON DESPAIR* 321 But turning away from these speculative in- quiries of reason, positive injunctions, it must be remembered, are laid down, which admit of but one construction, and from which there is no escape. Revelation places an insuperable barrier in your way. If you rely on its truths, you must receive its dictates : if you lay claim to its promises, you must submit to its re- strictions. It becomes not us, indeed, to exer- cise rashness and violence in dealing the bolts of Heaven,— in deciding how fully the wrath of God will be exert(?d, — or how far his com- passion may soften it, in the case of an of- fender, whose crime presupposes an overflow- ing cup of bitterness, and an exquisite percep- tion of sorrow ; — an affliction and a sei^sibility, tageous to others." But our Werters and St. Preux's must please to recollect, that suicide, even on lower principles than they profess, may place them in a situation still less a^rreeable; and although the life of any such pferson may njt hitherto have proved very advantageous to others, there is no point of suffering at which he can say, it may not become so. The whole passage alluded »o is a tissue of the most childish and inconclusive reasoning; and even the weak answer con- tained in the following letter gives up the point, in regard to bodily evils. — Suicide, according to Mr. Hume, in his legacy to posterity is no more than the diversion of a quan- tity of blood into a different chai.nel. It is a kind of general cupping. — This it is here needless ioan<^wer —We are arguing with those who profess Christianity j and believe man to have an accountable soul. 32C! SERMON XVI. without which the law of self-preservation, the natural tenacity of animated being to life, could not be violated. But when we look towards that light which alone ought to guide our steps, we cannot, — however we may commiserate the sufferings, — hold forth encouragement to the prcsinnptuous hopes, of those who expect to sit down with their Lord in his kingdom, without being clad in the wedding garment of prepara- tion. We must dismiss all comment where the text is plain. We must be faithful unto death if we would have the crown of life ^\ We must continue unto the end'\, or we cannot be saved. We must ivait all the days of our appointed time, until our change cometh %. I would further remark, that these considera- tions, which seem sufficiently powerful to stay the hand of Despair, from perpetrating any act of DELIBERATE self-dcstruction, ought to be no less persuasive in recommending the avoidance of that slow but sure poison of pining sorrow, whicli, without any pyemeditated scheme of suicide, insensibly brings about a premature termination of existence. To indulge this gloomy dejection, it cannot be questioned, is boldly to oppose the will of Heaven ; — for as such indulgence aifects the sufferer himself, it criminally abridges the trial to which he is ap- pointed by his Judge; — as it relates to his bre- * Rev. ii. 10, f Matt, x. 22. X Job, xiv. 14. ox DESPAIIU 323 thren, it deprives them of that example of patience, which Heaven, in sending forth the grievous affliction, intended, doubtless, that he should exliibit. I would not, however, be conceived as at all insinuating, that the unhappy individuals whose case is under contemplation, are required, or should be exhorted, too far to strain their feelings, to study an unnatural pitch of cheer- fulness, or to struggle in the crowds of active life. A patient serenity, a meek submission to their lot, and a quiet and uniform, rather than an eager or very energetic, discharge of such offices as they are yet enabled to per- form, constitute the whole which God or man can demand of those, in whose breasts the springs of action are broken, — and the object of attainment, and motive to exertion, have vanished. And although the victims of despair be strictly prohibited from hastening forward, whether by sudden or by slow means, their latter end, or from repining under the awards of Providence, I do not, I must confess, see any good reason, why, after all the duties now enumerated have been fulfilled, they should regard as sinful, if it afford them satisfac- tion, a pensive wish to be dismissed from their miseiies. Paul, fully sensible of his utility upon V ^ 524 ' SERMON xvx. earth, — seeing before him new labours unto which Heaven had appointed him, deemed not presumptuous, when encompassed with troubles, the desire to depart, and to be with his Master *. The Saviour of the world himself, although he bowed to, and at length obeyed, the will of his heavenly Father, desired that he might be saved from the agonies of his last hour, — and that the cup, if possible, might be taken from his hands, before he should come to drink it to its bitterest dregs f. When the counsels now offered shall have been carefully observed, all they who labour under hopeless sufferings may proceed, I will venture to pronounce, in full and confident security, to appropriate to their hearts the con- solations of Scripture. I. Consider, first, I beseech you, my suffer- ing brethren, that your condition, however for the present helpless, is yet happily exempt from that eternal sorrow, which can alone truly merit the character of despair. When you re- member that the earth contains individuals, — now perhaps abounding in its good things, and joyous in prosperity, — who shall be doomed to feel, throughout everlasting ages, what you experience only for a short, and continually * Phil. i. 23. f Luke, xxii. 42. ON DESPAIR. 3^i contracting season; — when you stand in ima- gination on the brink of the dreadful gulf, and cast a look downward on the place of punishment; — when you behold there, encir- cled with everlasting burnings, the truly hope- less bands of impenitent spirits, for ever ba- nished from the presence of their God — from the light of his countenance, and the gL>ry of his power, — without prospect of melioration, without possibility of change, — and finding all around them — infinite wrath, and infinite de- spair ; — when you witness' the gnawings of the worm that dieth not; — when you listen to the wailings that shall never cease, and to the com- plaints of reprobate beings that sit clenching their hands, and cursing the day of their nativity; —when you yonder mark tfie livid flames, and the dun smoke of the torment thatascendet^h for ever and ever* ; — your own situation will brighten to your view ; — you will dry up the tears that cover your face; — you will speak consolation and peace to your souls. You will return with cheer- fulness to the path of obedience, although aware that it leads to no immediate recompense; and resolve to submit to your allotment of temporary despair, until it shall please God, in his good time, to terminate your tribulation and your trial * Rev. xiv. H. y 3 326 SERMON XVI. II. Butthechief satisfaction of which your con- dition admits, consists in habitually directlPig for- ward your views, heyond the limits of this scene of trouble, to that region of pure, unspeakable enjoyment which awaits you, and of which the happiness w^ill, in your case, be unquestionably heightened, by being contrasted wnth the mi- series, through which you w^ill have reached it. How much more grateful is the calm and secure harbour to the shipwrecked mariner, than to the favourite of fortune, whose w hole voyage has been prosperous ! How much more accept- able is the festive entertainment, to a wretch perishing with hunger, than to the children of luxury who have fared sumptuously every day ! How doubly pleasurable must be the fresh breeze of spring, — the warm and exhilarating return of the sun, to him who has long been acquainted with the gloom of a dungeon, or who has counted the sleepless hours on a bed of sickness ! Even so, by the same natural force of contrast, will eternity afford an higher feeling of delight, to those servants of God who shall have come out of the heaviest — shall have come out of a hopeless tribulation ; than to others whose lighter and every-day griefs have been cheered and consoled during the whole course of their earthly pilgrimage, with the smiling prospect of better fortune on the morrow ! O death ! occepiable is thy sentence ntito the needy, and unto him whose strengthfaileth; ON DESPAIR. 327 — that is now in the last age, and is vexed with all things ; and to him that departeth, and hath lost patience*. If to such, even the transmission to insensibility and annihilation be thus desirable, how infinitely more acceptable that better pas- sage, from galling fetters to unspeakable felicity ; —from total darkness to torrents of joy ; — from heaviness inconsolable, to happiness uninter- rupted and unmixed ! Fix your thoughts then on that blessed mo ment, which at the furthest is not distant, — which each day of suffering is bringing nearer, — and which may possibly arrive more speedily than you have cause to believe; — when you will bid farewell to the world and all its sor- rows; — and when Heaven and its glories will burst upon your sight. Dwell in forethought on the rapturous sensation which awaits you, at that mysterious, awful, pleasing moment, when the mouldering walls of your earthly tabernacle shall fall away, and when the disencumbered and imprisoned spirit will spring to the God who gave it: — when the hand of the minister^ ing angel will unbar the everlasting gates, and when revealing to your sight the full tide of splendour, which beams forth from the holy city that is above, he will bid you enter into a joy that is yours for ever. Think of that transition * Ecclus. xli. 2. y 4 52S SERMON xvr. from all that is afflictive to all that is plea- surable, — to pleasures, of which your per- ception will, you need not doubt, be the more vivid, as your earthly sufferings have been more poignant and protracted. To sum up the whole; — (for you will pardon the earnest repetition,) let every individual for whom no further happiness remains in the pre- sent comniencement of existence, be moved by all the foregoing admcnitions and consolations, to beware of casting aw^ay that happiness of the world to come, which is now his lust and only stake. You have experienced one world to be a scene of misery, unabating, unceasing, and un^ cheered; — see (for to make the provision is now in your own power) that you do not likewise ipake the OTHER so. Do you grieve for a reputa- tion blasted among men ? The trial is a sore one ; — but look beyond the grave. Immortal ho- nour is yet within your grasp : — at least secure THjs, by continuing fliithful m disgrace. Has the friend of your confid. nee been removed from your side? Inseparable reunion is pre- sented to your expectations: — yet remember that the path of perseverance is the only way to it. Do you cany about in the body in- firmities for which there i*- no remedy? — It is yet yours to hope for a happy traiibfoimation into the likeness of Christ's glori.u^ body*; — * PhiJ.iiJ,21. ON DESPAIR. 329 forfeit not then this reversionary blessing, by any present rash deed, or wilful disobedience. Go, inspired with the humble resolution, that although the fig-tree shall never more blossom ; — although the withered vine yield no hope of fruit ; — though form, or fortune, or fame, or friends, be gone, gone for ever, — you will yetljve and serve the God of your salvation :— that you will wait without a murmur under irre- parable evils, until he who alone knoweth what is truly good for you, shall determine that your patience has been perfected by experience ;— that the end of your trials, the morning of your joy, the day of your deliverance, is arrived; that the measure of your ar^ iction is full;-— and that the sufferer may depart in peace. 330 SERMON XVII. ^ FOR AN INFIRMARY. 1 JOHN, CHAP. IV. VERSE 21. And this commandnieiit we have from Him, that he zcho loveth God, love his brother also. Thou shall love the Lord thy God with thy soul, thy heart, and thy strength, is a maxim set forth by cur blessed Master, as being the iirst and great commandment. And when we consider, that it is God in w^hom we live^and move, that to his providence we are indebted for the bounties and delights of nature, and for wdiatever comforts are mingled in our respeC" tive conditions: — when we further reflect, that this same God was in Christ, reconciling the world unto himself; that our spirits, ransomed by the blood of that divine Personage, are re- newed and purified by an influence, of which he is likewise the author; and that the Father will bestow the unmerited blessing of eternal * The latter part of this Sermon has been substituted for the same portion of another, preached inbehalf of the Female Charity School of St. Pancrasj which it was my original in- tention to have published; FOR AN INFIRMARY. 331 life on every one who shall seek it in the man- ner he hath pointed out ; — all of us, I am per- suaded, will feel and confess the strict propriety of that injunction which demands the tribute of our love; and the hearts of all will glow with the warmest affection, towards a Being so good, so gracious, and so hountiful. So influential over conduct indeed is this great principle of love ;— so naturally does it tend, when professed in sincerity, to produce an earnest and sedulous observance of the will, — an imitation of the pei fections, and an endeavour to promote the glory, of the Supreme Object of attachment; — that in various parts of the sacred volume it is exhibited to us, as alone comprising all the obligations of man. Keep yourselves in the LOVE of God (writes St. Jude), looking for the mercy of Christ unto eter7ml life *. St. Pauf declares, that all things work together for good unto them that love God f :— and again, in a dif- ferent passage, that eye hath not seen, nor heart conceived, what God hath prepared for them that LOVE him J, Unfortunately, there have existed in all ages of the Christian church,^ — a class of ill-informed (for we are forbidden by Christian charity, to pronounce them ill-meaning) individuals, — who, misinterpreting such compendious descriptions "* Jude^ :jl. f Rom. viii. 28. % 1 Cor. ii. 9, 5SS SEHMON XVII. of duty; — mistaking the spring for the river, the foundation for the complete edifice, — have con- fiiied their love of the Deity to an inactive fer- vour, or to impassioned, but unmeaning protest- ations of attachment To obviate these par- tial, contracted views, and misconceived notions of obedience, the word of truth, in other places, speaks more amply and explicitly; — defining this term of love towards our heavenly Master, as comprehending the principles and moral du- ties of his servants; — as embracing the faith of the mind and heart, — as annexing to the adora- tion of the lips, repentance and holiness in the con duct. JVJwso keepeth the word of God, in him 'verily is the love of God perfected^. Ij ye love me, keep my commandments]'; so shall I be assured, — in this manner only can you assure yourselves, that the professions of love which you utter are sincere, — and that the devout affections of which your hearts are conscious, are unequivocally the earnest of salvation. Among the commandments, of which the ob- servance is, in such passages, enjoined, as a test and manifestation of affection for the Supreme Being; — no one appears more frequently in- sisted on, than charity exercised towards the bodies and souls,— compassion, alive to the pre- sent necessities, and the everlasting interests, of our brethren. He that loveth God, will love his * 1 John, ii. 5. f John, xiv. If. FOR AN INFIRMARY. 3S3 brother also. Whoso hath this world's good, and seeth his brother hare need, and shutteth tip his compassion against his brother, how duelkth the love of God in him *? If we are anxious to ascertain the reason for this reference of the love of God, to love to- wards our neighbour; — to discover the bond which connects a sentiment or emotion, having the Creator of the universe for its object, — with active services towards the creatures of his hands, — we shall find it to be a necessary consequence of the nature of that Creator. As God is to us the author of every good and perfect gift, we evidently owe him, in return for his bounties, something more than the warmth of feelings, and the breath of protest- ations ; — we are bound to make some return of active service; — to oifer before his altar, as a tri- bute of gratitude, some substantial proof of our professed attachment. How then is this to be done? On Him, per- sonally, we can confer no favour. He is all- powerful, and needs not our assistance. He is supremely happy, and we can add nothing to his enjoym.ent. He hath himself, in the person of his divine Son, graciously resolved this dif- ficulty ; Inasmuch as y^e shall do it unto one of these your brethren — ye do it unto me f. 1 John^ iv. 21,— iii, 17. f Matt. xxv.40. 334 SERMON XVII. Foremost, therefore, among all arguments, whether recommending charity in general, or any specific modification of almsgiving, ought ever to be placed its propriety and indispen- sableness, when considered as an indication of the love which we profess, and a tribute of the gratitude which we owe, to Almighty God. And I here feel the more strongly inclined to in- sist on this generous principle of benevolence, — as I am aware that, in the present age of sordid calculation, an infirmity into which men are but too prone to fall, and which public solicitors of their bounty, I fear, are but too apt to encourage, — is the administration of relief to their indigent brethren, on the low, selfish, mercenary ground, of the expectation of a temporal equivalent. We are invited to encourage the friendly societies of the lower orders, because we may thereby expect to diminish our parish rates. Education, we are told, instils principles of honesty; and on this account, we are interested in supporting- establishments for the instruction of our poorer brethren, since we thus contribute to the future preservation of our own property. Far from our breasts, my Christian hearers, and far from an edifice of Christian worship, be driven (when regarded as the exclusive, or even as the leading- motive of our bounty) such cold, creeping, de- spicable conceptions. — Far were they from the mind of llim who is cur great pattern of com- 2 FOR AN INFIRMARY. 935 passion :— far alike from the tenour of his con- duct and the spirit of his instructions. When a sojourner upon earth, he went ahout doing good unto those, who, he knew, were to repay him with a crown of mockery, and a cross of shame. When dehvering his precepts, he exhorted his disciples to do good, and lend — hoping for nothing again*. In a word; — let us at all times, when a claim upon our henevolence presents itself, recollect our duty of attachment to the Father of mercies ; and from that fountain, our alms will liberally flow. For, in truth, after we have done all — we are unprofitable servants ; — and, after we have given all — we remain in- debted unto Heaven. Yet, although this disinterested and high mo- tive of beneficence ought ever to be pre-emi- nently distinguished, there are inferior induce- ments which Heaven, in compassion, hath ad- dressed to the understanding and the heart, with a view to quicken our sympathy, and to expe- dite our services of relief. Thus, with reference to that proud and noble Institution, for the support of which it is this morning my allotted province, to entreat a con- tinuance of your assistance, — it must at once oc- cur to every mind, that combined operation for the relief of the sick, is incalculably more • Luke, vi, 35. 536 SERMON xvrr. powerful and extensive in its efficacy, than acts of separate and individual bounty. Did each of the contributors to the public Charity for which I plead, withhold his donation on the plea of expending it in his own neighbourhood, how trifling would be the sum of benefit he could confer ! — Medical attendance for the indi- gent sick around him, his pittance of alms could not amply procure; and even if it were suf- ficient for the purchase of a few medicines, who is to direct the nature and composition of the re- medies, adapted to each patient's particular case; —or (what seems of hardly inferior consequence) the measures of these remedies to be administer- ed? How is the sick man's diet to be regulated, and the progress of his disease to be watched; each favourable symptom to be turned to ad- vantage, and the spark of life, trembling betwixt animation and extinction, to be cherished and blown into a flame? How unfavourable to re- covery are the miserable accommodations of a hovel, where the sick man's aching head may be distressed by the needful labour of other members of the household, or his feeble limbs benumbed under insufficient coverings; — and where almost every circumstance is unfavour- able to that undisturbed rest and improved comfort, which constitute no trifling portion of his chances for convalescence ! 4 FOR AN INFFRMAUY. 337 Eut, remove the patient to an hospital ; and how different a scene presents itself! — In addi- tion to the advantages of repose and cleanli- ness, of convenient accommodation, and of suitable food, he here finds the physician, the surgeon, tlie apothecary, the nurse, and the menial attendant, all uniting their separate exer- tions for his welfare — exertions, directed by skill, improved by habit, perfected by confine- ment to a single branch of the common labour, and quickened, as well by tenderness towards the sufiferer, as by a sense of public inspec- tion, and a regard for personal reputation. — All these benefits result from the same prin- ciple which facilitates the preservation, and cheapens the price, of the common conve- niences and elegances of life, by a system of connected and consolidated operations. An Infirmary may be regarded as a large ma- nufactory ; — where a vast variety of wheels and spindles are set in motion by the power of one engine; — where each performs his share of the work with the greater dexterity, as his atten- tion is concentrated to it; — and where the accu- mulation of capital in a single hand, creates an economy in room, light, heat, machinery, and general labour, — which it were hopeless to ex- pect, did each private family attempt to manu- facture the commodity under their own roof *• * NoT«»— This Discourse was preached in a manufacturing town. 3 SB SERMON XVII. In a large and populous town,— especially where strong furnaces, and sharp or ponderous instruments are necessarily employed, in prepar- ing the staple article of sale, — I need not specify the variety of sudden dangers, to which the poor end labouring classes are exposed. How feli- citous an invention then must be that of a sanc- tuary, to which the sufferer by accident may instantly be carried, and where his case will certainly be considered without delay! In the absence of such public head-quarters of relief, the unfortunate individual who had re- ceived a contusion in a fall, or a wound from an enraged animal ; — who had been lacerated by steel, or scalded by flame, — would be surrounded by a gazing multitude, ignorant whither they should remove him; — or, perhaps, conveyed in a painful litter from house to house, in quest of a precarious private assistance. An institution thus open for the reception of patients labouring under every modification of human ailment, further affords an excellent school of medical knowledge, to pupils and young p.ractitiojiers in the science. Here theo- retic skill is exemplified by practical exertion; and a combination of oral instruction and ocu- lar demonstration, admits the inexperienced student to a knowledge of his profession, which FOR AN INFIRMARY. 339 books alone would be utterly inadequate to im- part. It must be highly grateful then to the philanthropic mind to reflect, that in minis- tering to the wants of the indigent sick, it is opening sluices of health which will, in a few years, descend to refresh the general body of the community. With many among those who hear me, there is a peculiar argument, of no inconsiderable force, which I shall without scruple press upon their recollection, not doubting that it has frequently presented itself to their minds.— That we all are indebted for many conveniences of life to the necessary toil of men whom Pro- vidence hath placed beneath us in station, ought surely to be a motive for our supporting under disease, those who, when in health, had contributed to our accommodation. — But perhaps the majority of hearers at this time as- sembled, hold their present situation of opu- lence or of comfort, in consequence of the suc- cess of large concerns, in which the members employed have been drawn from the labours of agriculture, to a mode of earning their liveli- hood far less salutary. I would not here be un- derstood as instituting any invidious comparison betwixt the manufactures and the agriculture of this happy country : for its agriculture, in- z ^ 340 SERMON XVII. deed, is necessarily improved, in proportion as its manufactures flourish. — Neither would I insinuate the slightest hint of disrespect towards an honourable occupation, which bestows on Great Britain, wealth, pride, credit, and domi- nion ; — which, while it furnishes the sinews of war, encourages all the arts, the elegances, and the ornaments of peace. It is sufficient for my argument, that in that stage of refinement in the natural march of society, to which we are arrived, the advantages acquired are, unhappily, not unattended with a certain quantity of evil. For, if it cannot be denied, that large towns, and chiefly large manufacturing towns, are con- siderably less favourable to health and morals, than the open country, the village, and the hamlet ; — that they foster, in the lower orders, vices of intemperance and licentiousness, which fatally tend to undermine the constitution; — if it be certain that, by reason of sedentary occupa- tions, amidst unctuous substances, floating shreds, or sulphureous effluvia, — in close and crowded workrooms, — humours accumulating in the human frame lay the foundation of much ailment, which would not have existed, if such humours had been freely dispersed, by a circula- tion of pure air, and by salutary exercise : — if this, I say, be admitted, then, consequently, it is most reasonable, that individuals who enjoy the first and chief benefit accruing from such FOR AN INFIRMARY, 341 a state of society, should be the most prompt, forward, and liberal in contributing towards a redress of the evils that are inseparable from it. It cannot be questioned, that no small number of the cases of disease which are presented to the Infirmary of this place, have originated im- mediately, or, at least, by inherited complaint, either in unwholesome labour, or in licentious conduct, both connected with a state of crowded population, and of sophisticated living. The claim then upon all of us, w^ho either immedi- ately, or by inheritance, find a bank and treasury in property, arising from causes which have inevitably, it would seem, drawn such conse- quences in their train, must be a claim exceed- ingly strong: it must even, I think, amount to something resembling a debt. In requesting your assistance, therefore, towards the support of an institution designed and calculated for the alleviation of such evils, I feel the ground beneath me to be firm. — I refuse to solicit it of humanity ; — I demand it at the hands of jus- tice. I cannot wholly submit to sue for that as an alms, which, in the poor man's name, I can call for as his right. But, since vicCy as well as disease, is generated by such a condition of society, as that which we have been here contemplating, the voluntary abatement of its evils would be incomplete, if z S 342 SERMON XVII. wise aiid humane measures were not adopted and pursued, for the welfare of the soul, as ^vell as of the body ; — for the amendment of morals, not less than the restoration of health. In a congregation convened for religious pur- poses, — in an assembly composed of the profes- sors of a religion expressly designed at once to promote the glory of God, and to circulate wishes of peace and good-will towards men, — it would be unpardonable not to suggest, that in the excellent regulation relative to the weekly devotions of your Infirmary, provision is made for the probability of awakening the sick man, to serious views concerning the brevity of life, the importance of religion, and the welfare of his imperishable spirit. In the gaiety of health, and in the bustle of worldly occupation, the still small voice of conscience is too likely to be unheard, and the hopes and fears of religion to be disregarded or postponed. But let the un- thinking individual be stretched out upon a sick bed, and let him be driven to introspection by the absence of mad hilarity, or by the suspen- sion of anxious employment; — and then it is that the accents of adoration, and the dictates of divine truth, will chime in harmony with the state of his reflections, — will steal on his en- feebled frame, his subdued spirits, and his serious composure, grateful and soothing as is the soft- FOR AN INFIRMARY. . 343 est music to the soul in her most petisiyeand meditative mood. It is extremely probable that, under divine grace, in this happy combination of religion and opportunity, the sweet sounds of the Gospel of peace and trutli, may not re- turn void from the ears in which they shall be uttered;— and that a seed may be sown in the hearts of many transgressors,^ — springing up, by the blessing of God, unto eternal life. And the full efi^ect of so benevolent an agency is secured, by a circumstance peculiar (so far as I know) to your Institution, and highly creditable to the feelings, the piety, and the ingenuity of those who planned the interior of the structure. Having been recently called upon in rotation to officiate, in the place of the respected minister for whom I am an unworthy substitute, it af- forded me particular pleasure to observe the contrivance in the chapel for extenduig the sound of its devotions to the apartm.ents of the bedridden, the loathsome, and the dying; — an improvement which I cannot recollect having observed in other institutions of the kind which I have visited*. In the present age of wild and extravagant liberality, it would perhaps only involve me in the imputation of bigotry, if I were to presume * Four windows in the walls of the chapel open into their wards. z 4 544 SERMON xvir. to subjoin — as an additional subject of congra- tulation, — that the electric spark of conversion is not transmitted through empirical hands; — that the spiritual health is imparted by a regular and accredited physician of the soul ;— that the offending right-hand is amputated, in a moral as well as in a literal sense, by scientific, experi- enced, and humane practitioners ; — that an at- tempt is made to couch every offending right eye, before it be rudely plucked out and cast away; — that the poor man is not intoxicated by the stimulants of enthusiasm into presumption, or, by the attenuants of groundless fear reduced to despair; — but receives a moral medicine which lays the foundation of permanent health — through the medium of a reasonable religion, and of the half-inspired Liturgy of the Church of England. I am aware that many highly respectable in- dividuals are numbered in the present congrega- tion, with respect to whom so large a variety of ar- guments as I have now employed may be deemed superfluous ; — I am aware that those who are of the greatest opulence and consideration, are like- wise the most distinguished for their munifi- cence towards charitable establishments. Yet, at the same time, I am not so inexperienced in my profession, or so entirely ignorant of the human heart, as not to know likewise, that the FOR AN INFIRMARY. 345 usual result of such discourses as the present, is a collection which might have been computed nearly with as unerring an accuracy, as any number of votes that may have been determin- ed by venaUty, before debate upon the matter in question has commenced. Reports have reached our ears of the astonishing effects fre- quently produced by charitj^ sermons in our sis- ter island — in the land of generous sensibility — some emptying purses — or pencilling their pro- missory notes : Christian ladies, forgetful of their ornaments, — and doubtless, when so unadorn- ed, adorned the most — unbuckling the girdle, and unclasping the bracelet, like Roman ma- trons, for a pub'ic cause; — content to part with their index of time, that they may secure the bliss of eternity, — and cheerfully divesting themselves of their richest jewels, for the sake of purchasing the pearl of inestimable price. Here, where eloquence is weaker, wliere judgments are more cold, and imaginations less lively, any effects of this description it were frenzy to ex- pect. Yet why should the two scenes exhibit so strong a contrast? M hy, in a promiscuous assemblage, should there be found grudgin* servants, who, year after year, approach with their single and solitary talent, wrapt up in a napkin ; and though they know it to be much less than they could conveniently spare, would hardly be prevailed upon by lips touched with $46 SERMON XVII. fire, to add to it the most insignificant appendix. These, if such be present, I would fain prevail with to alter so cold and calculating a mode of administering their beneficence;— not solely with a view to the present transient occasion, but as the commencement of a generous and honourable habit, of sometimes bestowing a trifle more than they had intended. There is a different description of characters, equally difficult to impress, who are come with a fixed predetermination to give the munificence of nothing, on the plea that their contributions are already subscribed in another form. Now" I will freely admit it to be highly proper and necessary, that the rich should make some ostensible de- monstration to their poorer brother of their not being totally forgetful of his interests. But though donations thus blazoned may, in many instances, be presented with the most refined and upright views, the danger is extreme, lest the motives to such bounty be mingled with some small leaven of a lurking self-delusion. If, therefore, such individuals w^ould fully satisfy their own consciences, and approve themselves before God — as bringing their tribute of pity from unadulterated motives — as entirely free from all wish to blow a trumpet before their alms — and to flourish in the columns of an annual report ; — let them^ in addition to that public manifestation of their sympathy, which FOR AN INFIRMARY. 347 their situation in society demands, utter a prayer in a whisper, and bestow an ahns w ith- out noise ; — so that God alone, and not their neighbour, and not even their left hand, may know what their right hand doeth. In the classic periods of antiquity, it was a custom among public speakers, when summing up their defence of an accused client, to intro- duce into the court, and to exhibit before the judges, his wife and children, his kindred and friends, vested in the solemnity of mourning apparel, clasping their hands in speechless sup- plication, and dissolved in all the mute elo- quence of tears. The calmer state of our feelings, and the soberer character of our manners, for- bid the employment of any similar expedients, in attempting to excite commiseration. Indeed, were it permitted, unhappy circumstances, on the present occasion, would render it altogether impracticable. But, my brethren, were 1 gift- ed with those rich powers of description, which drag things absent, as it were, before the view, j^nd tinge the faint outlines of conception with the glowing colours of reality, I would present to you, — a band of supplicants amply sufficient to enforce, with the strongest appeal to your best and tenderest emotions, all the various arguments which have now been col- 34S SERMON XVII. lected. I would picture to you the circle of sick men and sick women, silently arranged round the fire of a ward, and contemplating, each in the wasted forms, and in the sallow countenances of his companions — the resem- blance of his own image — the earnest and pre- sage of his own mortality. I would represent the incision made with the keen knife, upon the delicate breast of snow, — the agonies of the frame parting for ever with its limb, — and all its spouting arteries, and shrinking sinews, and qui- vering nerves. I would conduct you from one scene of suffering to another; — here direct your attention to feebleness leaning on his staff; — there, to the issue of blood that has run for twelve years, — or to the sight that has been darkened in fight;ing, amidst the burning sands of Egypt, the honourable battles of your country. I would bid you look on dropsy heaving his la- bouring chest, — on asthma struggling for breath, — on abscess, and ague, and rheumatic pain, and pining atrophy, and decay sinking into the tomb. I would conduct you to the bed of the dying man; — I would beseech 3^ou to mark that pale foim, those sunken eyeballs, that look of min- gled agony and meekness ; — the dim eye, half raised upon you as you approach; — the stifled attempt to speak, — and the speaking look, that vainly asks for intermission from pain ; — the smile of gratitude for the few comforts enjoyed, FOR AN INFIRMARY. 349 and of seeming entreaty that they may be long continued to others in the like situation, would arrest your steps until you contemplated the closing scene, — until you beheld the child of poverty resigning his spirit, encompassed by tenderness — but often by the tenderness of strangers : — and when I had displayed to you this complicated variety of human wretched- ness; — when I had drawn you through scenes exhibiting so many forms and shapes of woe, — I would then turn round to acquaint you that these scenes, — piteous as they may have been to your eyes, and repulsive to your feelings, consti- tute — the luxury, — the mercy, which the sick man requires. It is to deliver him from the ac- cumulation of poverty upon disease; — from the hut, scarce proof against the inclemencies of the weather ; from anxious forebodings respect- ing the future prospects of his family — bodings continually suggested by their presence, and continually aggravating his complaint; — from disquieting noise, and meagre fare, and cheerless cold, and death upon the pallet of straw : — it is for these ends that you are now about to ad- minister your bounty. By administering it cheer- fully — for God loveth a cheerful giver; — by ad- ministering it plentifully — for he that soweth plentifully shall reap also plentifully; — ^you are about to rank yourselves high among that happy multitude, to whom your Saviour, in the end 550 «erMon xvit. of the world, identifying himself with the wretched, will thus address himself— I was an- hungered, and ye fed me; — sick, and ye visited me; — a stranger, and ye took me in. In domg it to your fellow-disciples, ye did it unto their Master. Mine be the thanks, and mine the satisfaction of rewarding. Ascend, and receii^e the recompense of your labours^ Enter into the joy of your Lord. 351 SERMON XVIII. ON MINISTERING SPIRITS. PSALM cm. VERSE 20. Bless the Lord, ye his angels, that e.vcel in strength, that do his commandments. iHE ministration of angels, in relation to hu- man beings, is a subject, to which, though ex- tremely interesting, Christian instructors have not in general been accustomed to direct the attention of their people; and in regard to which, the notions of the great body of be* lievers are much less correct and definite, than their knowledge of most other branches of their faith. Some have conceived the subject to be one better calculated for the fervours of enthusiasm, or the flights of poetry, than for the sober views of a rational and practical religion : while others have dreaded it as the parent of superstition, as likely to betray the mind into an imperfect idolatry ; to divide the affections and devotions of the heart betwixt the Creator, the only object of lawful worship, and some of his created beinsrs. S5Z SERMON xvnj. Yet nothing can be more certain than that such intelligences exist; — that they are inte- rested in the aifairs of this lower world; — that they walk abroad in the earth, and are sent on errands of mercy ; — that although they be in- visible, we are surrounded by a cloud of them; and that they often have interfered, and are still employed for the succour and benefit of good and pious men. J7'e they not all niinister' ing spirits, says the Apostle to the Hebrews, sent forth to minister for them who shall be heirs of salvation * ? We can hardly indeed open the sacred volume, without discovering instances or intimations of the interposition and agency of these ambassa- dors of the Almighty Sovereign. At the birth of the world, they seem to have betimes anticipated their future interest in the welfare of its inha- bitants, ; — it is difficult, at least, to assign any other meaning to the expression — When the mojiiing stars sang together, and the sons of God shouted for joy'\. Accordingly, in the earliest ages, we find them continually appearing to the Patriarchs; to comfort in affliction, — to warn in the Hour of danger, — to rescue from difiiculties, — and to encourage to perseverance in holiness. • Heb. i. 14. t Job, xxXYiii. 7- OxV MINISTERING SPIRITS. 35S It is one of these celestial agents, who leads the afflicted Hagar to the well of the wilder- ness. Angels deliver Lot and his family, from the destruction of tlie sinful city. An angel stays the hand of Abraham, when lifted up to immolate his son. An angel moves in the di- recting pillar of lire, which precedes the camp of the Israelites. — To stop the way of Balaam ; — to cany food unto Elijah ;— -to smite the host of the Assyrians, when encamped against the people of God, we observe the same holy ministration employed. In the New Testament these messengers of Heaven are represented as mingling their agency in the scheme of salva- tion, and as extending, together with the Gos- pel, their concern, from the Jewish people to the whole race of mankind. Is the birth of the Baptist to be announced to Zacharias? — Are the fears of Joseph respecting the purity of his betrothed wife to be dispelled? — Are the shepherds to be directed where they shall find the Babe, that bringeth good tidings unto them and unto all people? — Is a favourable answer to be given to the prayers of Cornelius? — Is Philip to be instructed how he shall enlighten the Ethiopian? — or Paul to be encouraged amidst the terrors of the storm? — The Lord sends forth his ministering spirits, on all these embas- sies of condescension or of love. No one, in a word, can doubt their interposition, unless from AA 554 SERMON XVIII. that evil heart of unbelief, whicli proudly calls in question every article of faith, that lies beyond the limits of ordinary experience: — that heart possessed of old by the Sadducees, who, it is re- coi ded, while they denied the existence of angels, said Ukexvise that there is no resurrectioti* , Not then, surrendering ourselves to this par- tial infidelity, and taking for granted the exist- ence and the agency of guardian spirits, — let us endeavour to investigate in what respects, and to what extent, their interposition Is exert- ed, and may be expected, in our behalf. I. The lowest occupation of tutelary beings upon the earth, the lowest, as it is an employ- ment relating to our temporal welfare, consists in the preservation or deliverance of the servants of God from situations of danger. To be con- scious, that whithersoever we may bend our steps; — in the midst of the throng, or in the solitary path, — these celestial protectors are at all times beside us, to execute the will of the Deity in screening us from evil, or m deliver- ing us Avhen we shall have fallen into it, — to avert misfortunes which no human precaution could avoid, — to encompass as with a shield, and to cover as with a canop3^j — must doubt- less be an animatino* and soothingr reflection. Yet the believer may rest assured, that this is * Acts, xxiii. 8. ON MINISTERING SPmiTS. ^55 no fanciful supposition, since it is written, — and he may humbly appropriate to himself the promise, — He shall give his angels charge coji- cennng thee, in all thy ways, lest at any iirae thoti, dash thy foot against a stone"*. No one, how- ever, I trust, will infer from this assurance, that the care of unseen protectors will, in any degree, dispense with the strictest personal vigi- lance; since it must immediately occur to all, that we are commanded to walk circwnspectly f ; and since it is subjoined more particularly to the passage above quoted, Thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God. How helpless is man in the season of repose ! — to what a variety of accidents is he then laid open ! — All that sagacity, and all those precau- tions, which he may have diligently employed during his waking hours, — precautions which have taught many to forget the Omnipotent Ruler, and to arrogate the power of self- protec- tion and deliverance, — are now no longer of any avail. — Nevertheless, the faithful servant of ati Almighty Ruler, may both lay him down, and sleep, in peace; for the angel of the Lord, says the inspired Psalmist, encampeth about them that fear him, and delivereth them^. The appearance of these messengers and delegates of Heaven, in- * Psalm xci. 11, 12. Zech. i. 10. compared with Rev. v, 0, and Din, x. 13—20. f Eph. v. 15. X P«alm x^^iv. f. AA 2 S56 SERMON XVIII. deed, in the silent vigils of the night, unto holj men under the old and new dispensations ; — to Jacob at Bethel, — to Joseph at Nazareth, — to Peter in prison;— although it cannot certainly encourage us, in these latter times, to expect the same miraculous intimations, — should^ at least, forbid the true believer to doubt, that in- visible spirits, like ei/es of God % are continually awake around him; — that, like feathers of the wing of Providence, they are stretched over his repose;— that He whose chariots are ten thou- sands of angels, is accompanied by these fiery squadrons, and makes use of their ministration in keeping watch about the bed, as well as about the path of the fiiithful f. Nor can it be reasonably questioned, — that those secret impulses and silent whispers, which sometimes prevent men from entering on a way where the robber lurks, or embarking in a ves- sel which is about to be wrecked, — are to be ascribed to the gentle imperceptible agency of the same celestial guides. Every day, every hour, we walk amidst dangers and deaths, and know nothing of the innumerable occasions in which we are conveyed through them in safety, by thc'ministry of unseen, but propitious hands. Some among us may, at this moment, tremble while they call to mind escapes, which the coldest incredulity could not attribute to acci-* * Zcch.iv. 10. f Psalm Ixviii. l/.*— cxxxix* 3. ON MINISTERING SPIRITS. 557 dent : and it seems fair to infer, that, for effect- ing these, the Almighty commissioned Svome subordinate intclhgences. Was it not by his angel that he deHvered the three holy children who trusted in him, from the midst of the burning fiery furnace*? Was it not by an angel that the mouths of the lions were stopped, when the innocent Daniel was thrown down into their den|? Was it not by a similar de- liverer that Peter w^as led forth from prison, through the iron gate that opened of its own accord, — while a light from heaven illumi- nated the dungeon? Every servant of Heaven then may go forth daily into the world, con- ceiving that such a spirit is not far distant; and listening in idea to the w^ords, Avith which, in visitations of old, the messages of these pure beings w^ere frequently prefaced : — Ftar mtX- II. The next office, in which Scripture war- rants us to believe, that guardian spirits, who are aptly described as hands of the Divine Be- neficence, are engaged, is the interesting task of bearing consolation to the afilicted. To dif- fuse an holy calm throughout the troubled mind; — to pour forth into the wounded bosom their pitcher of refreshment, drawn from the ♦ Dan. iii. 29. Dan. vi. 22. f Acts, xii. 15.— Gen. xlviii. i6. — Matt, xviii. 10. A A 3. 3i8 SERMON XVIII. rivers of Paradise ; — to impart a consciousness of being accompanied in the hour of solitude ; — of being supported in seasons of danger; — of being soothed, and cheered, and strengthened, in apprehension, in pain, or in perplexity ; — to suo-o-est considerations which recommend sub- mission or fortitude ;— are employments not un- suitable to that heavenly host, concerning whom we know, that one of them stirred the pool of Bethesda, in preparation for the cure of the maimed ; — that some came and minis- tered unto the Son of Man, after his fasting and tem.ptation in the wilderness; that som.e com- forted him in his agony; while others, after his resurrection, appeared to his desponding Apostles in white apparel, and uttered the consolatory language, — Fear not ye ; Jesus whom ye seek is not here, for he is risen ;— /ze shall come again from heaven in like manner as he hath de-' parted thither^, III. Still stronger reasons nmst we allow are there for believing, that these ethereal spirits are greatly occupied, as messengers of grace in time of temptation ; — as servants sent forth by the Holy Ghost into the breast, suggesting good, or banishing unholy thoug' ts; — as turn- ing away the eye from the seductive spec acle, or sealinsr the ear to accents of delusion. Of the evil which constitutes temptation, a large * Acts, i. 11. ON MINISTERING SPIRITS. S59 portion, it is certain, is derived immediately from the suggestion of our ghostly enemy. If both the trial of Eve, and that of our Lord him- self, be insufficient to assure us as to the truth of this assertion, — Satan's being called, by way of eminence, the tempter, and .the description given of him, as a roaring lion going about in the earth, and seeking whom he may devour, — evince his continual practice. Since tlien the evil spirit is ever active in attempting to alienate man from the love and pi .ctice of holiness, does it not seem quite consistent w-ith the wisdom and goodness of God, as well as conformable to the general economy of his pro- vidence, to oppose to him, in such measure as shall leave the human mind at liberty to turn the balance, the inspiration of a more benevolent Being, — of the Spirit of grace and truth ? It may, however, be asked, — Since the Holy Ghost himself has been revealed, and his influence poured out upon the children of men, where is the necessity for having recourse to any other, to any inferior operation ? To this I answer, We may suppose the presiding care of angels, — not as superseding, not as in the slightest degree di- viding the influence of the great Spirit of spirits ; but as acting in subservience to him for the maintenance of his dignity, as the ser- vants of his will, and the bearers of his bless- ings. Does it at all abridge the authority, does A A 4 560 SERMON XVIII. it not rather enhance the magnificence of an earthly sovereign, to be surrounded with ser- vants, oliicers, and courtiers, the dispensers of his favours, and the executioners of his de- crees? We well know, that in spiritual inti- mations, as well as in the daily order and eco- nomy of Providence, the Deity delights to conceal himself, and to act by intermediate agency. We speak of sermons, of sicknesses, of afflictions, of a place of graves, as means of grace; — wherefore, then, should not we, in like manner, speak of angels as its dispcmers? We cannot tell, indeed, whether obeiHence to the divine command, in attending to the in- terests of human beings, may not be, on their part, an act of probation : for to a trial they are not impossibly still subjected : some of them at least, we know, were at one time ca- pable of falling, and did fait. If, however, it should be presumed, that their probation is now at an end, and that they are at present as- sured of eternal life, still it is in the highest degree reasonable to believe, that the otfice of transmitting the suggestions of grace may be imposed on them, on their own account, as intelligences, whom it becomes to praise the Father of the Universe, and to purify and ap- proximate towards perfection their own natures, by active services as well as by hymns of adoration. It is natural to suppose, likewise, ON MINISTERING SPIRITS. 56 1 that pure and benevolent being-s, permitted to witness the affairs of this lower world, should feel deeply interested for the favourable issue of the spiritual conflict sustained by those who may become their future and eternal as- sociates : — and, if by any means possible, that they should exert themselves in promoting that issue. Add to this, that as the Omniscient, who knoweth our necessities before we ask, requires us nevertheless to state them in prayer; — as He who witnesseth our secret contrition, de- mands that it should be expressed in a confes- sion of the lips ; — so may it please the same Being, who in one sense is immediately present to our souls, to employ a subordinate agency as the vehicle of the succour he conveys to them from that heaven of heavens, which, in another sense, he is represented as making the peculiar habitation of his glory*. Satan, the enemy of all good upon earth, is frequently spoken of in the sacred volume, in conjunction with his subject spirits : — we read of the Prince and the emissaries of dark- ness ; of the Devil and his angels |. — These, * Psalm xxxiii. 14. f Matt. XXV. 41. and xii. 24. 26. — Ephes. ii. 3. and vi. 12. — Coloss. ii. 15. — Psalm Ixxviii. 49. compared with Exod. xii. 23. — 1 Sam. xvi. 14.— 2 Sam. xxiv. 16, 17. — 2 Kings, xix. 35.— Matt. xiii. 19.— 2 Cor. ii. 11. j iv. 4.; and xi. 3, 4. 14, 15.— 1 Thessal. iii. v.— 2 Thessal. ii. Q, 10. —Acts, V. S.-— John, xiii. 27.— 1 Thessal ii. 18. 36!Z SERMON XVIII. there is every reason to be assured, are still leagued together, in the malignant work of envy and destruction: nor can it be supposed that the inferior fiends who lost their first estate, any more than the arch-enemy, the master-adversary, have unbuckled the armour of rebellion, or in any degree abated in their malice and enmity, towards God, and towards all his works and creatures. It may be con- sistent, then, with the dignity of the Spirit of God, though himself all-powerful and all-per- vading, to set HIS OWN attendant spirits in array, against this band of inveterate foes : and indeed some divines have considered that war, which is described in the book of Reve- lations as carried on in heaven, by Michael and his angels, against the dragon and his angels *, — as being, in its secondary meaning, an alle- gorical representation of this supposed contest betwixt good and evil spirits, for the posses- sion of the human soul. Upon the whole, at once to secure the be- nefits, and to guard against the slightest per- version of this doctrine, let us bless Almighty God for having enveloped us with so many ministers of his will : — and receiv^e, with satis- faction, that reflection of divinity, those sug- gestions of holiness, that air of purity which * Rev. xiu 7.— Zech. iii. 1, ^. ON MINISTERING SPIRITS. S63 they bring unto our souls from the face of our Heavenly Father, which we know that they akvays behold"^'; or, in whose presence, as it is elsewhere expressed, their hosts stand with trembling '\. But let us remember also, that as angels do not, in any degree, encroach on the office of the eternal Sanctifier, they as little participate his uncommunicable dignity : — they are humble ministers, — bciiio-s a little hiii'lier than ourselves, but still created, still charged with folly J : — pure, exalted friends, to be ve- nerated and loved; but not divinities to be worsliipped. And when I saw the angel, I fell at his feet to worship him ; — and he said unto me. See thou do it not ; I am thy fellow-servant, and of thy brethren that have the testimony of Jesus: — worship God\ Reserving adoration, then, for the Supreme Being alone, let us learn, from the example of these unseen sons of light, to execute the divine commandments with promptitude ; — to condescend to those beneath us in condition; — to take delight in succouring the necessitous and unhappy : — thus doing the will of our Father on earth, as it is executed towards ourselves by the beatified spirits of heaven, IV, If to bear from above the emanations of grace, be an office, in which pure and kind * Matt, xviii. 10. ' f 2Esdras, viii. 2. X Psalm viii. 5. Job, iv. 18. \ Pxev. xix. 10, 364 SERMON XVIII. intelligences may be supposed to take high delight, with still greater satisfaction, may it further be presumed, do they wing their way back to the courts of happiness, carrying tidings of the successful result of their em- bassy. I am Raphael, cm of the se'ven holy angels, which preseyit the prayers of the saintSy and which go in and before the glory of the Holy One *. Worthy employment, to waft pure thoughts to the fountain of purity; — pious breathings into the presence of the g'reat object of adoration ; and the record of holy actions to the ministering spirit who registers them for the great day of the Lord ; — or at times, per- haps, while that spirit is, w ith strict fidelity, entering somje offence of surprise or infirmity, to snatch with a smile the pen from his hand, and, commissioned by Him who alone hath power of forgiving sin, to erase the half- finished accusation. By assigning this occupa- tion to those delegates of Heaven, who, we are told, are swift as wind, and volatile as fire, we are able to interpret the well-known dream of the Patriarch Jacob f, who beheld at Bethel, a visionary ladder, suspended from the skies, * Tobit, xii. 13. compared with Rev. viii. 2, 3. f As Jacob proceeded (Gen. xxxii.), the angels of God again met him, and he called the place Mahanaim j which signifies the encampment of an army, to denote the great number of celestial beings whom he saw. ON MINISTERING SPIRITS. S6S and crowded with these celestial visitants, some alighting on the earth, and others return- ing to the courts of God. We can with the eye of humhle faith, behold the heavens opened; and the holy angels of God ascending and de- sce?idi?ig on the disciples of the Son of' Man *. V. This welcome report of the pure and upright behaviour of faithful sojourners upon earth, being circulated throughout the man- sions of bliss, we cannot doubt that the glo- rified host of the happy will listen to it with complacency and delight ; — that they will con- gratulate each other on the triumph of good ; — on the prospect of an increase to their band; — on a new advancement of the glory of the Most High : — and that, seizing their harps with holy rapture, they will echo the voice of pe- nitence to the eternal throne; — " circling it and singing," — or convert the glad tidings of per- severance to a theme of praise. Worthy, will they say, art thou, O God, to be extolled with worship, and honour, and glory; — worthy is He by whom the worlds were made, to receive, from the creatures of his hands, and the objects of his love, an offering of all the faculties with which he hath endowed them. Or, again, made acquainted with the speedy ter- mination of labour, which awaits those dis- * John, i. 51. 566 SERMON XVtlt. ciples whose obedience has been the theme of tlieir hymn, may we not conceive them making ready for each his assigned mansion ; and, in whatever sense the scriptural metaphor may be understood, employing their hands among the bowers of immortality, in weaving crowns of life for such of their brethren, as shall be found faithful unto death? Nor let these sug- gestions be deemed the fictions of fancy, pre- suming too far into the heaven of heavens. We are acquainted, in plain and sober language, by that sacred volume which is truth itself, that the salvation of man, and his glory, arc things, into which the angels desire to look *. — We are told by St. Paul, that they are most eloquent of tongue f. — We are told by a greater than St. Paul, that there is joy, in the pre- sence of God, among the angels, over one sinner that repenteth J : — and surely it seems to follow, as a natural consequence, that this joy will be increased with every fresh act of obedience, which evinces repentance to be sin- cere. VI. Yet further: — When the awful hour which awaits every child of Adam, the hour of dissolution, approaches ; — when the body is severely racked by pain ; — when the eye is about to close on those objects of fond affec • 1 Pet, i. 12. f 1 Cor. xiii. 1. t Luke, xv. 10. ON MINISTERING SPIRITS. 367 tion, of whom it cannot take leave with indiffer- ence, another interesting office of guardian spi- rits will consist in whispering words of peace to the departing followers of Jesus ; — in removing the film and dimness from the sight of faith ; — . in rolling back to its view the curtain of the skies, and permitting it to descry those seats of boundless felicity where it will speedily be, and 'whey^e it will be as the angels ^. Neither do I here speak the language of imagination when i describe these holy watchers, " a globe of lucid spirits," as hovering over and smoothing the couch of death ; — as attending to the last struggles, — and as ready to receive the soul of piety when it shall at length have been breathed away from the body ; — to catch in their arms the spirit emancipated from its prison-house ;— to bear the pure and immaterial existence along the way of heaven, and to deposit it in the place which the Saviour hath prepared for it. By the hands of two of these ministering beings, was rolled away the stone from the en- trance of the holy tomb, that the Son of God might come forth from the dead. And in another place we read, — words still more ap- propriate, — and it came to pass, that the beggar died, and was carried by angels into Abraham's bosom f. * Mark, 3di, 25. f Luke, xvi. 22. 55S SERMON xviir. VII. To the bosom of Abraham, said our Lord to the Jewish multitude: — to the bosom of a greater than Abraham would he have said unto us, to whom life and immortality have been brought more fully to light. Let us, there- fore, lastly, accompany these benevolent guar- dians (for in closing our contemplations we shall thereby indulge, at least, a harmless, — I trust a sober, — I hope not an unprofitable view into futurity), while bearing their charge, and veiling themselves with their wings, they pe- netrate into the third heavens, and draw near to the presence of the Eternal*. As the spirit, — the approaching inmate of the everlasting mansions, — arises from sphere to sphere, passes between lessening systems and suns, and leaves at a (hstance that starry firmament, which it had formerly conceived to set limits to the universe, it is sustained by kindred spirits amidst the refulgence of encircling glories : — it is greeted by the voices of a countless mul- titude, — by radiant ranks of pure and beatified essences, — who receiving it amongst " their solemn troops and blessed societies;" and sing- * The Chaldee paraphrase on Cant. iv. 12. speaking of the Garden of Eden, says^ — that no man hath power of en- tering in but the pure, whose souls are carried thither by the hands of angels. — It is unnecessary here to enter into a dis- quisition respecting an intermediate state : sufficient, on the present occasion, is the belief that, on dissolution, the souls of the faithful pass into a place of happiness. ON MINISTERING SPIRITS. SpQ ins: the song; of its deliverance from sin and sorrow, ascribe the glory unto tlie Omnipotent who sitteth on the throne, and to tlic Lamb, slain from tlie foundation of the world : — or, making mention of the returning emanation of Heaven, as an acquisition to their number, and the partaker of 'their felicity, invite it to join with them in the hymn of triumph— Dea thy where is thy sting? Grave, wh^re is thy victory? Seeing, then, we are encompassed with these pure intelligences, these anxious witnesses of our conduct, — (and, I trust, I have said no more than Scripture warrants me in assert- ing) — let a lively sense of their presence afford a fresh inducement for avoiding, by divine grace, all those offences, which may give such honourable friends and protectors occasion to weep o\ex our weakness, or to tren)ble for our safety ^. Seeing it is our high privilege to come unto IVIount Zion, — to the city of the living God, — to the Mediator of the New Covenant, — to God the judge of oil, — and to an innumerable company of angels, among whom are, doubtless, the spirits of just men made perfect, let it be our chief care not to be want- ing unto OURSELVES, Icst by any means we forfeit so high a destiny, and fall short of so, * 1 Cor. xi. 10.— 1 Tim. v. il.— Eccles. v. 6.— -Ephes. \\u 10. B B 3/0 SERMON XVIII. great a salvation. Let us pass our lives as becomes the candidates for admission into this liappy, holy, and glorified society. Let us walk worthy of God, who hath called us to his kingdom and glory * : — ^in a word, let our invisible associates give a tincture to our cha- racter; that when the Lord Jesus Christ shall once mere be revealed from heaven, with all his mighty anpels, the trumpet of resurrection may pour forth into our graves, sounds full of liope, and exultation, and triumph f; and that, returnincr with the Brideo-room to the bosom of his Father, we may sit down, as fellow-guests and friends, at the marriage-feast, with legions of holy and beatified spirits, in one eternal communion of pure felicity, and celestial con- cord. * 1 Thessal. ii. 12. t Matt. XXV. 31.— 1. Thessal. iv. l6. 371 SERMON XIX. THE SUCCESSION OF GENERATIONS FOR A -NEW YEAR. ¥r_ ECCLESIASTES, CHAP. I. PART OF VERSE 4* One getieration passcih away, and another generation cometh. Jlj VERY where around us, our eyes behold a scene of constant fluctuation and succession. Day and night, — summer and winter, — follow each other in faithful revolutions. — Each herb, each tree, whose seed is in itself, perishes in its course, and is replaced by the springing plant. The animal kingdom, in like manner, having lived throughout a few brief months or seasons, finish their work, deposit their eggs, produce their offspring, and die to give place to the rising tribes. From a law thus general, man is not exempt Race succeeds race, as wave pursues wave. We spring up to manhood; — wx mingle in the busied throng;— but quickly, as if the crowd were too much swollen, we are pushed away along with * I will take the liberty of recommending to readers of ^v.ery age, a late publication, with its accompanying Dial 5— • entitled^ " The Bioscope of Life." JtJ B 2 572 SERMON XIX. its superabundance, to the awful precipice of eternity. ]\Iean while a new race arises about us on all sides; — and scarcely have we hailed the strangers into this existence, when we are compelled to withdraw, that we may leave it open to their exertions. — Such is the life and state of man. — One generation passethawa}^ and another generation cometh. Let us turn our me- ditations, — as at the present time is most suit- able, -^to the various lessons afforded by this picture of our condition : lessons which are no novelties, yet which require no apology. They are always represented; they are familiarly known: they are trite and common-place; — yet, — strange to tell, — they are continually gliding from remembrance; and let the fasti- dious yawn, or the scoffer condemn, they are therefore to be continually reiterated. There- fore we ought to give the more earnest heed to the things which we have heard, lest at any titne %ce should let them slip *. I. One generation passeih away, and another generation cometh. The words, in their natural order, direct us to a view of mankind, as distri- buted into TWO GREAT CLASSES;-^ — the old, and the young; — the wise, and the inexperienced;— the grave, and the less considerate. To each, resj)ectively, duties and sentiments belong; — - nor, ill some respects, ought either to encroack * Heb. ii, 1, THE SUCCESSION OF GENERATIONS, 57 S on the character of tlie otlier. It is more espe- cially fitting for the departing race to cherish and protract in their minds the consideration of their heing quickly about to leave the present scene of things ; — that it may prompt them to adapt their conduct to their condition, by banishing from their behaviour all that inordi- nate vivacity which belongs more propeily to earlier life, — and by studying that sedate and venerable deportment, which is the suitable as- pect of decline. Not, however, that age should assume severity ; much less that it should sternly oppose the innocent hilarity of spirits naturally light and jocund in the opening season of e>i:- istence. Like a calm evening, in which the sun departs divested of all his fiercer rays, let the passing generation retain their cheerfulness, while they lay aside all that ardour of gaiety, and that eager avidity in terrestrial pursuit, which characterize the season of hope and of enterprise. Impart, my fellow-disciples, — if, un- der the favour of that name, I nuiv nresnnie i to dictate to your years, — impart to the advan- cing race, the knowledge you have attained, — ■- the conclusions you liave drawn. Teach them, —for well you are acquainted with the truth, — that it is oidy the fear of God, and an earnest obedience yielded to his will, that is capable of affording genuine satisfaction, and of bringino BB 3 374* SETIMON XIX. a man peace at the last. Teach them — in what vanity and vexation of spirit all fond expecta- tions of deriving fehcity from the poor advan- tages and pleasures of this inferior scene have terminated. Teach them these things, that they may happily acquire their wisdom from youK report and avowal, and not, as you per- haps have yourselves been instructed, through the rudiments of repentance. As to the COMING generation, let them pre- pare themselves for discharging, with dignity and usefulness, the duties to Avhich they are called. Let them not try, with saucy and im- pious petulance, to push their predecessors off the stage, — by contemning their admonitions, or making mockery of their antiquated man- ners. Far fi'om judging with presumption what is good for themselves on earth, let them suspect their own imperfect views to be errone- ous, and repose themselves with submission on the opinion of minds matured by longer and deeper observation of the world. Let tiicm rest well assured that there is a winning modesty, as v.'cll as a just prudence, hi honcar- vig and oheijirig paniitiiy — hi i^ubh-ussioji io go- vernnrSy .spiritual pastors, and Piasters. Dew are, ye whom these admonitions concern, of wasting your precious days of improvement, and of pre- . paration for society, in the slumber of indo- THE SUCCESSIOX OF CENERATIOXS. 375 Iciicc, or the niiscliief of sensual pleasure. Habituate your miucls to view life as a whole, of which the various successive parts are de- pendant on one another. Happily, th.e world is yet all before you, — you are the race that conieth; and to-day you are in possession, — chd you but recognise the advantage, — of a tiiousand golden enviable opj>ortunities. — A httle while, and you will be the generation that passcth away. As these opportunities are now inijMOV' cd or neglected, — so precisely u ill be the mea- sure of future satisfactiou or sorrow. If vouth be dedicated to solid and useful application; — to duty towards God and man ;— to early prayer to the Father of Spirits; — to the estar blishment of virtuous and serious habits; a foundation is laid for success in pursuit, — for independence of circumstances, — for respecta^ bility of character, — and, what is of farliigher value than all tiiese advantages, — for the favour of God, — for interest in the great propitiation, for reception of the succours of gi-ace; — Jiid for perpetual happiness in the world t.(> come. Need I reverse this desciiption, and paint be- fore your view the dismal result of an early spring-time squandered away in neirligciit or dissipated courses? — ^ced I acquaint you, that a blot in the forming character cannot, in ti:e eye of an unsparing world, be wiped away by BB 4 S76 SERMOX XIX^ long years of atonement; — that evil habits once contracted, are not to be relinquished without ef- forts nearly mmiculous; — that (-hey who Hnger in their prime, must be condemned to see the dihgent and the virtuous outstrip them in the course of life; — and that if God regards with peculiar favour the flower of the soul when it is presented to him in the bud ; so, if the offer- ing be delayed till it begin to wither, — even if it should, at that late hour, meet with ac- ceptanc'e, it will surely be crowned with less of his affection. Could I lay bare the bleeding hearts of somiC;, who Uiay at this moment be placed on your right hand and on your left, doubt not, that you would behold them sighing a sad assent to the faithfulness of these representa- tions. IT. But, besides these improvements of the words before us, to be respectively derived by persoiis of various ages, — a diflercnt body of lessons may be deduced from the same source, adapted to the common circumstances of old and }oung, considered collectively and promis- cuously. If every thing below^ be changeable and fleet- ing; — if that one generation goeth, and another THE SUCCESSION OF GENERATIONS. 3/7 generation comcth, be a faithful representation of the present condition of the human race, — how can any cease to reflect, or to net as if they reflected, — that, as component parts of the race thus circinnstanced, they are even now partaliing of this passing character ? Doubtless, even tlie youngest are comprehended in this description; — for though, in one sense, they are only entering into life, — in another, they are even now departing out of it, — and each ad- vance made from infancy to manhood, is but a step down the declivity, — a nearer approach to the grave. There is no defniite point of time marked out, as distinguishing one race of mor- tals from another : and our condition resembles those trees in warmer climates, on whose different branches blossoms are continually bursting into light, and fruit pending in ma- turity; but, whose blossoms often appear only to be destroyed, and whose fruit may be shaken down in the beginning of its formation. To many a one, the advancing infirmities of life; some diseased organ, — some fading part of the frame; — the silver lock appearing, — the sight, or the hearing, beginning to fail, — the limbs trembhng under their accustomed bur- oO SERMON XI 5C. prepared a theatre of action for incaiculable numbers, who all come forward in such succes- sion as never to throng* the scene, — never to press or inconnnode each other. Think, that when you lost the partner of your bosom, — the friend of your confidence, — the child of your love, — a new being, in some part of the worlds sprang up, and came forward into the vacant space, to contend for the crown of glory and immortality.— Can you, therefore, harbour the selfish desire to recall the dead in the Lord,— ^ when you consider that you might thereby hinder from seeing the light, — that 3^ou might detain in the dark womb of insensibility, — the embryo of a human being, — capable of infinite improvement, — of glorifying God,^ — of benefit- ing man, — and of enjoying a pure and perpe- tual fehcitv? And how evident the intimation of that fu- ture state of being, afl^brded by this rapid fluc- tuation and succession ! — How fully are the shortness and uncertainty of life,- — the dissolu- tion of friendships, — the bleeding of hearts, — the calamities of families, — the bursting of the bands of tenderness, which are occasioned by the havoc and waste of death, reconciled by this solution to the Divine wisdom and good- (less! Admit only life to be a prelude to eter- nity, and a field of discipline; and all tlie sccni- THE SUCCESSION OF GENERATIONS. 387 ing chance or severity which it ex;hibits, starts at once into the most admirable order. Gene- rations are short-hved, because they are only in the infancy of existence; and one generation maketh way for another, tliat the many man- sions of heaven may be peopled. So I answer- ed and said, "T^C oil Idest thou not make those that have bee?i made, and that be now, and that are to come, AT once; — that thou mightest show thy judgment the sooner? Then answered he me, and saidy — The cjxature 7nay not haste above the Maker ; neither may the world hold them at once that shall be created therein *. Thus, to the unspeakable consolation of them that mourn, it appears, that when the indivi- duals of the present generation pass away, in compliance with the wise laws of Providence, they do not drop into annihilation; — they are not lost for ever; — they die to live; — they go to be seen again. If they be truly worthy of our estimation and regret, they are gone to in-^ herit those glorious abodes, where the good are ' blessed, and where God is in the midst of them, ! — where they have sate down with Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, — with Patriarchs, Pro- phets, Apostles, Martyrs ; — with all tlie faith- ful of all the generations that have ever lived j an,d, through the mercy of Heaven, if \VK be true • 3 Esdras, v. 43, 44, cc 2 588 s£i»roN XIX. unto OURSELVES, ouF doom of transition wilt convey us into that blessed association. To what Power are we indebted for con- firming tlie imperfect suggestions afforded in this matter by natural rehgion : — for chasing from the mind that torturing anxiety, which doubts while it surmises, and trembles while it hopes! Thanks, eternal thanks to our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, who hath shed the full irradiation of certainty on the faint con- jectures of human reason : — who hath illumin- ated the dark and fearful entrance of the tomb, and shown it to be but a porch unto the courts of life and immortality. Thanks be to Him who hath gotten the victory over death, and who, in atoning for transgression, hath rendered eternal life an object of serene forethought and ardent desire ; — when, if this propitiation and reliance had been unknown, the prospect, — even if sanctioned by the word of truth, — would have been damped by despondence, and fraught with alarm. Profiting by the full intelligence thus im- parted to us, let us diligently seek an interest in the blessed Sacrifice, which strips this intelli- gence of all its terrors, and renders it consolatory and cheering; — that as soon as we shall have iiiiU-d with the generation with which we are THE SUCCESSION OF GENERATIONS. 389 passing away, we may be received into everlast- ing habitations. Let us elevate our affections to that higli and cloudless clime, which abides for ever superior to all change; — whicli, as the summit of a mountain towers above the storms, — is wholly inaccessible to the vicissitudes ex- perienced in this turbid and unstable valley of sorrows; that clime wherein all joys are perma- nent as they are pure; — where fanidies of men shall no longer pass away; — where they w^ho have attained, through faith and obedience, to a fruition of the beatific presence of God, shall dwell in the light of his countenance, — shall bask in the beams of his love, — shall admire and extol the wonders of his might, from generation to generation, and world without $Jiid, cc 3 $90 SERMON XX- THE CHAIN OF THE DOCTRINES. A FAREWELL SERMON. GALATIANS, GHAP. IV. VERSE 18. But if is good to be zealously affected, always^ in a good thing ; and not only when I am present Xiith you. If the father of a family, who had studied to train up his offspring in the faith and fear of God, were laid upon his death-bed, we mio'ht reasonably conceive it to be his wish, on that avvful occasion, to sum up, under a few ge- neral heads, the various lessons and advices, which from tmie to time he had communi- cated, and to leave them, in one solemn con- cluding charge, to those, for whose happiness he feels an interest. Nearly in the same manner, is it natural for a minister of the Gospel, who has for a consi- derable length of time instructed a congrega- tioxi, to draw up, at the moment of his final se- paiation from them, a brief abstract of the se- veral instructions on which he had, in time THE CHAIN OF THE DOCTRINES. 391 past, expatiated ; and to stamp it, as a last im- pression, upon their minds. The tie, my friends, which has for some }^ears subsisted between us, is at length about to bo dissolved. Although I have been with you, it is true, in much weakness*, — I trust I may, with- outpresumption, call you all to witness this day, that, — whatever may have been my deficiencies in many respects, — I scrupled jiot, during my ministry, to declare to you, at different oppor- tunities, the whole counsel of God t ; and ac- cordingly, I have now scarcely any other desire, than to recapitulate in your presence, the various leading branches of that counsel,— that you may perceive at one view, — and easily treasure in your minds, the conipass and end of all reli- gious instruction; — the great scheme of Chris- tian salvation. It will, indeed, prove no difficult unde^'taking, to comprise aiul illustrate, within narrow linxits, the most important truths of our religion; — so well adapted arc they, by their shortness, for the piost occupied, — and, by their admirable simpli- city, for the least intelligent minds. Froiii ex- liibiting them in a concentrated and collected form, I propose and anticipate one material ad- vantage; — I mean, your being convinced, that, * 1 Cor. ii. 3. f -^cts, xx. 27. CC 4 392 SERMON XX. instead of forming a miscellany of detached articles of belief, they compose, taken together, a consistent and beautiful system. While you thus learn to acknowledge these truths, as a series of progressive and connected proposi- tions, your attention and interest, it may rea- sonably be hoped, will be more earnestly directed separately towards each of them. — You will rely more confidently on its divine sanction, — you will resolve to adhere to it with greater steadfastness ; when you shall have dis- covered it to be a Ihik which cannot be broken off, or injured, without essential detriment to the entire chain. I. The great original principle, — as I have frequently intimated, — on which all the other doctrines of our venerable religion depend, is the fall of our first parents, and the consequent corruption of our nature. As soon as Adam, our common progenitor, fell, by eating of the forbidden fruit, his nature received a taint of evil, which has been communicated to the whole of his posterity. In proof of this principle, we learn from the New Testa- ment, that — by one man sin entoxd into the 'ii'orld ; or, as it is differently expressed, — many 'were made sinners'^'. And that this word manyy is synonymous with the whole hu- man race, — old and> ouna^ — and whether deeply * Rom.v. VA and l^ THE CHAIN OF THE DOCTRINES. 393 stained with crimes, — or comparatively exempt from actual transgressions, is manifest irom the declaration which assures us that the Scripture' hath co7idi(de(l AU. under sin* ; and that tit ere is none righteous; nOj not one. The testimony of Scripture on this licad is confirmed by every one's acquaintance with the secrets of his own heart, and knowledge of hu- man nature. Every individual, even the purest, and the most upright, — finds a law of the members warring against the law^ of the mind; ^ — a law often triumphing over clear com- ac- tions, and earnest resolutions; — a law of which, as his intercourse WMth mankind increases, he observes more and more of the universal opera- tion. By reason then of this iiil.erent depravity, we come- into the world exposed to the Divine displeasure; — or, in different terms, and in the language of the sacred writings, — ice are, by 7uUure, the children of xvrath'\. It is next to be observed, that this root of corruption has, more or less, in the life of every individual who has passed the season of infancy, sprung up into a varict}^ of wilful transgres- sions, in thought, word, and dc^atX. The prin- ciple of evil, — the latent propensity itself, — is iknown among divines by the name of original * Gal. iii. 23, f Eph. ii. 3. 394 SEllMQN XX. sin; — Avhile the deliberate offences into which it has led lis, are, for the sake of distinction,, termed actual sins. Now, if even our original taint of evil render us objects of displeasure to a God of immaculate purity, our actual trans- gressions must have, in a still greater degree, provoked his just uraih and imiigmtlon agaimt us, II. Thus circumstanced, — guilty in every way before Heaven, and menaced with deserved punishment, — wliither shall the human race tlee for relief? — On what stay shall they rest their hopes of salvation? No services, — no offerings which they can themselves present, are of any avail in ayerting their impending doom. — Shall they bring to the Almighty gifts of their possessions? All these possessions, — even the cattle on a thovisand hills, — are theirs only in trust; — are already his own. — Shall they go before his presence with the purer tribute of prayer, issuing from a heart, penitent for the past, and resolute as to the future?— But who has acquainted them that prayer and con- trition will, OF THEMSELVES, blot out guilt al- ready contracted, or disarm the anger, aiid ward oil' the punishment, which that guilt has justly incurred? Or, admitting for a moment, tliat past transgressions will be cancelled by un-^ ciring obedience in time to come, — an efficacy^ fllE CHAIN OF THE TOCTRINES. 395 liowe\cr, which tlicre is no shiidow of saucaoa for iuilly ascribing to it on its own account, — « can tliey further flatter thecii selves, that sucli unerrnig obedience is in tiioir power? To tliese questions, I presume, thvrc nc(^ds no reply. Consequently, if the race of Adam, thus sin- ful, and thus frail, look at aii for acceptance in the sight of lieaven, they must repose their hopes of it on some propitiation, foreign to their own exertions. And here you will per- ceive the intimate connexion betwixt the firs^ elementary principle of our religion, — the degeneracy of nature, arising from the fall, coupled with its actual evil consequences, and the next great article of Christian belief ;— the redemption of a ruined world. When bruised by our spiritual adversary, we look, and there is none to help: — behold a heavenly hand which getteth us the victory. The propitiation of which we are in quest, our Bible acquaints us, is the sacrifice offered in the person of our Lord and Saviour ; the grQat atonement for the sins of the whole world, both original and actual*. In order to admit the doctrine of UNIVERSAL redemption, we must naturally pre- suppose an UNIVERSAL fall : — a fall, which though greatly aggravated in the children of Adam by their own actual transgressions, is nevertheless altogether independent of those * 1 John, ii. 2. 396 SERMON XX, transgressions;— for the infant who sees the light for a few hours, and expires, has certainly committed no actual transgression; — yet, hy the very term, it is included in the universal fall, and if eternally happy, is happy, not by any personal guiltlessness, — but by a participa- tion of the benefits of redemption. How other- wise could that redemption be pronounced uni- versal? — How could Christ be said to have died for ALL mankind ? Thus closely and indissolubly connected are the two doctrines of the depra- vity and ruin of mankind, as the sinful de- scendants of a sinful ancestor, and of their re- covery by tlie merits of Christ, the second Adam ; — a ruin and a recovery correlative and co-extensive. Therefore, as by the offence of orie^ judgment came upon all men unto condemn- ation; — on the whole human race; — even so, hy the lighteousness of cne, the free gft carnc unto ALL men^ tojustfication of Ife ^. in. Although, however, agreeably to these words of the holy Apostle, redemption be a free gift, its efficacy in saving each individual depends, by Divine appointment, on his per- formance of a certain condition. This condi- tion is, in one word, tliat of faith;— faith, or belief in the revealed will of God; but more f*5pecially, in the merits of the crucified Saviour. *Rom.T. IS. THE CHAIN OF THE DOCTRINES. 397 tFitkmt faith, St. Paul acquaints us, it is im- J)ossiblc to please God"* : while in another Epistle he points out the chief ohject on whicii the faith of saved transgressors must repose itself: — Therefore, being justijied by faith, we have peate with God, through our Lord Jesus Christ '\; The Scriptures, however, -^and it is of the utmost importance that we should liere parti- cularly attend to their information, — present to our notice two descriptions of faith, — on one of which no solid reliance can be placed. This is a dead, or a barren faith ; — a faith whicli bringeth not forth works of righteousness ; — a simple assent to the truths of religion, by which the de'cils also belie^ce and tremble %. The right, or that which is called a saving faith, is a lively faith, — a faith which worketh by love, or, of which the sincerity is manifested by that holi- ness of living which it suggests, in the same manner as a healthy tree is known and valued by the full production of its proper fruits §. I will here take the liberty of hinting, that, as illustrative of these remarks, the whole of the Epistle General of St. James is highly worthy •f your attentive perusal. IV. But, fourthly; In what manner must our works of holiness, of which the necessity is ♦Heb.xi. 6. f Rom.v. 1. .% James, ii. ig. § Gal. v. 6. 59S SERMON XX, thus obvious, as tests of faith, be performed? !Rfan is so very far gT rie from original righteous- ness (Art. IX.), that he cannot of his own natural strength perform works acceptable to God. (Art. X.) : IFe are not sufficient of ourselves to think any thing as of ourselves * : for in us dwelkth no good thing '\. Our sufficiency therefore is, and can be, only of Almighty God: and thus are we naturally introduced to the contemplation of a new branch of revealed religion, — the great and essential doctrine of Divine Grace, The concluding words of the Tenth Article of our Church, — namely, — The grace of God, hy Christy must prevent, or go before us, that we may have a good will to wo7ics of obedie?2ce, and work WITH us, when we have that good will, ap- pear to be a paraphrase on the address of St. Paul to the Philippians : For it is God which ^orketh in you, both to will and to do, of his good pleasure X' Yet let us not hence take occasion to imagine that we ourselves are permitted to rest passive and supine, entirely dispensed from making any exertion in duty : much less, that we derive a privilege from the help that is pro- mised and offered, to continue in 5in, that grace may abound. God forbid that any of us should for a moment lend an ear to suggestions -so fallacious and fatal ! Man is placed on earth in a state of trial; and although undoubtedly *• 2 Cor. iii. 5, f ^9^' v»- 18- t Pl»»l* "• ^^' THE CHAIN OF THE DOCTRINES. 395 he could by no means obtain salvation unless the grace of God's Holy Spirit were licltl out to him ; — he possesses, nevertheless, a power of mining himself, by refusing to lay hold of this extended aid. — He can . THE CHAIN OF THE DOCTRINES. 401 and being tempted, that, in like manner, we should be incompetent to our own deliverance? The t\v o Sacraments are reconciled to our rea- son, solely as arising out of the connexion be- twixt the same doctrines. Baptism places us in a way of obtaining, and the Supper of the Lord continually supplies, that heavenly help, which is necessary to enable us to oppose the original corruption of our nature *. V. The last great and distinguishing doc- trine of Christianity, is that of a Trinity in Unity : — and this too can, without difficulty, be at once expounded by a reference to the sacred volume, and shown to be very closely connected with all the other leading articles of belief That the Father and the Son are one, is explicitly declared by the Apostle John, where he introduces our Lord saying to his followers, — He that sceth me, seeth Him that sent me'\.-^ Again, our Saviour is described, in direct ternib, as Christ, who is over all, God, blessed for everX- * The effect of Baptism is to remove the liability to punish- ment for original sin, and to supply the grace which may pre- vent, in a greatt measure, its springing up in actual offences ; — but not entirely to take away the taint, the bias to evil, which is justly said in the ninth Article to remain, even in those who are regenerated. — Rom. vii. 18. f John, xii. 45. ; Rom. ix. 5. D D 402 sfeRsroN XX. With respect to the unity of the Father and the Holy Spirit, let it suffice to estabUsh that article of belief, by the selection of a single passage from amongst many that might be cited, — Know ye not that ye are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of Goddwelleth in you * f Now, if we are convinced of the strict ne- cessity of an atonement, different from our own offerings or penitent services, we must allow, that the more valuable that atonement IS, the more likely will it prove to appease the Almighty Sovereign; — the greater assurance shall we undoubtedly feel, that it has really been sufficient to appease him, and to pur- chase our fu}l pardon. What atonement then call be morp valuable,-=r-what more efficacious, than that which the sacred oracles have pre- sented to our faith? When we are taught that a great Being, at once God and man, has di- vested himself of his glory, a|id suffered on our account, — when this august Being himself, in his divine character, hath assured us of thq efficacy of his passion, we feel a stronger con- » 1 Cojr. iii. 1(5. The space allowed being too limited to admit of an ampler eli^cidation of the mystery of the Holy Trinity in general, I must rest satis:^ed with referring to the work of Mr. Jones on the subject, where the propfs are fully unfolded. — The ^itle of that ^ork \»^ ff Jones's Scriptural poctripe of tha Yfinity." THE CHAIN OF THE DOCTRINES. 403 fidence in the vicarial sacrifice, than if a subor- dinate agent, — if, for example, one of the ang-els, chargeable as they themselves all are with folly, were described and held forth to belief as our propitiation. When, placing on cue hand, the heinousness of our trans- gressions, and on the other the strict justice and immaculate purity of the Governor, whose laws we have so presumptuously and repeatedly violated, we perceive and acknowledge, as we cannot but do, the extreme difficulty of re- conciling him to his sinful creatures; — more ease must evidently be derived to the mind, from reflecting, that the Intercessor and the offended Power are one and the same ; — that the Son is equal to the Father as touching his Godhead, than if we had learned to conceive the offended Power to be divine, and the Inter- cessor only an inferior and created being. In the same manner, since we are unable to repent, and to turn unto God, by our own na- tural inclination and strength, it is, beyond all question, the most valuable — the most satis- factory information we can receive, to be told, that the supplemental strength which we re- quire is furnished, not by any subordinate being, who, created like ourselves, might be supposed, like ourselves, to stand in need of D D 2 404 SERMON XX. assistance, rather than to be capable of impart- ing it, — but by the third Person of a coequal Trinity, — by God the Holy Ghost. Thus, my brethren, have I endeavoured to show, that the grand doctrines,— the various leading and essential points of Christianity, — have all an intimate mutual rehance and cor- respondence: and more particularly, that the corruption of human nature, by the fall of Adam, our great progenitor, is the first prin- ciple in which they all originate. In strict conformity with reason, indeed, there is no possibility of taking any one of these doc- trines separately from the rest. They stand or fall together. Reject the first principle, and the others appear superfluous. Admit the first, or any one of these doctrines, and all the rest will easily follow as deductions from it. It is no wonder then, that the disciples of Socinus, in denying the first of these articles of belief, deny the whole. They act, in this ' respect, with the strictest consistency. If man be not fallen, if lie be not prone to evil, it is not impossible that some few of the race at least, might yield a full obe?dience to the laws of God : and under this supposition, it would likewise follow, that the death of infancy would be the death of innocence. On such THE CHAIN Ot" THE DOCTRINES. 405 an hypotliesis, then, it is abundantly plain, that there would be no indispensable necessity for Christ, as an universal Saviour. Still less occasion would there appear for a sanctifying- Spirit, and less power of accounting for a Trinity in Unity :— and although, on sufficient authority, we might assent to these doctrines, our belief in them would lose the sanction and support of apparent necessity, and satisfied reason. The whole which men required, under so contracted a view, was simply a pure and perfect system of morals, enforced by the as- surance of future rewards and punishments. — Such wants, the instructions, and the well- attested resurrection of a man, like themselves, having had no pre-existence, — no divine na- ture, — would have been quite competent to supply : — and accordingly we know, that in these instructions, and in this fact, is com- prised the whole of the Christian Revelation, agreeably to the Socinian creed. — The ne- cessity, then, of being steadfast in maintain- ing all these truths, without any one excep- tion, or relaxativm, as forming a great and re- gular system, will now, I trust, be obvious to every mind. On many inferior topics of re- ligious ditierence, such as forms and cere- monies, and the observance of days, it is far better, I conceive, to preserve Cliristian cha- rity, than very strenuously and warmly to con- DD 3 tend : since two individuals may hold op^ posite sentiments respecting them, while both stand equally high in the favour of Heaven.— Yet, although it be proper, even on the most momentous occasions, to avoid, as much as lieth in us, the animosities of controversy, our faith, in all these leading propositions, which we perceive are the life and blood of our holy religion, ought never, on any account, to waver ; — our zeal in recommending them, on proper occasions, to others, should at no time suffer abatement; — our earnestness, our perti- nacity, m refusing to recede from maintaining their strict indispensable necessity, must never, never for a moment be accommodated to the maxims and manners of a false politeness. Let it be remembered, however, — at all times faith- fully remembered, — that a belief in these doc- trines, and a steadfast adherence to them, is chiefly enjoined, and almost solely valuable, as the occasion of improvement in personal holi- ness. When rightly understood, indeed, the great truths of Christianity will be perceived to have, all of them, this direct tendency. For as soon as we discover the aversion of God from sin to have been so exceedingly great, as to render it needful that all the powers of Heaven should exert themselves, and work together in appeasing his displeasure, we cannot but infer our strict obligation, now that we THE CHAW OF THE DOCTRINES. 407 find ourselves happily delivered, to dread, above all things, a repetition, an aggravation of the otf'eiice; — to beware of crucitying the Son of God afresh by our sins * ; — or of griev- ing that holy Spirit of God, whereby we are sealed unto the day of redemption j\ Rescued by so mighty an hand from destruction, and permitted to taste of the powers of the world to come, — can we fail to discern the imminent danger of relapsing, and to warn our own souls, even were Revelation silent on this head, that if any man draw back, he draws back into perdition ;}: : — that if, when his house is swept and garnished, he go and take unto him seven other wicked spirits, the last state of that man is worse than the first § ? In a word, the great doctrines, when received in an honest heart, must be acknowledged to have been imparted, not to foster inactivity, but to ba- nish despair, and to encourage exertion ; — not to state or suggest, that God has done every thing, and that we need do nothing for our salvation ; — but to invite our souls to co-operate with the Almighty; — to acquaint us, blessed and animating truth ! that if we do what we can to obey the divine laws, our feebleness will be assisted ; — our errors forgiven ; — and, O sublime mystery ! assisted and forgiven by the * Heb. vi. 6. f Ephes. iv. 30. I Heb. X. 39. § Mutt. xii. 44, 45» 408 SEKMON" XX. highest Powers of the universe, who are capable of assisting and forgiving. — And what more powerful enforcement can be added to the exhort- ation, — Therefore^ my beloved brethreii, be ye stead- fast, unmoveable, always abounding in the work of the Zo;y/,— than the accompanying argument, — Forasmuch as ye know, that through the suffer- ings of the Saviour, your labour is not in vain in the Lord? — What call to work out our own sal- vation with fear and trembling can be ima- gined more cheering, — ^what more effectual, than that which opens to us the pleasing prospect of success, in the assurance that God, through the influences of his Spirit, is working in us, both to will and to do, of his good pleasure'"? When I now call to mind the manner in which, for several years, I have endeavoured, in explaining this chain of doctrines, to recom- mend the grand result, the duties which pro- ceed from them, I feel deeply conscious of the necessity I am under, of soliciting forgiveness from Heaven and from you, for many omis- sions, and much imperfection. So far, then, as, in time past, I may have neglected any department of the duty of public instruction, I can only make a reparation, at this close of my ministry, by praying that your own under- standing and good principles, aided by the *Phil. ii. 13. THE CHAIN OF THE DOCTTIIN^ES. 409 exertions of your other ministers, may be en-' abled to remedy that defect. So far as I -may: be candidly admitted, on the other hand, to have conscientiously and comprehensively dis- charged this duty, I trust that the grace of God may give efficacy to my labours, and long preserve any salutary impressions which it may- have made, through my instrumentality, upon your minds. And as, agreeably to the principles which you have now heard unfolded, it is' needful, to the production of this happy effect, that you should yourselves work together with that hoIyAgent, I must further express an earnest wish, that you will not be w^anting in your por-^ t-ion,of the labour. To aid your co-operatiou with the Spirit of grace and truth, permit me, on taking leave of you, to recommend' to your most serious perusal the excellent works of Law on a devout life; of INIason on self-know- ledge; of Murray on the influence of religion on the mind ; of Taylor on holy living and dying ; and, as discourses for family or private reading, the three volumes of selected sermons for the Sundays and festivals of the church ; the family sermons printed in the Christian Ob- server; together with the anonymous volume of " Discourses on the Doctrines and Duties of Christianity." For the furtherance of the same object, it is necessary to inculcate a mo- derate and cautious use of common amuse- 2 410 SERMON XX. ments ; and a strict attention to the sacred and profitable exercises of public, family, and pri- vate devotion. I would likewise entreat you to acquaint yourselves with the pleasure, — you will find it one of the highest which religion or the world affords, of attending to the spiritual necessities of the ignorant; and in an especial manner, of the young, among the inferior classes. To devise and promote mea- sures for accommodating the poor, in churches and chapels of the Establishment; and to distri- bute amongst them, in their houses, Bibles, Prayer-books, Companions to the Altar, and different well-chosen religious tracts, are em- ployments, not only useful and kind in them- selves, but well calculated to keep alive' your own religious feelings, and that, be as-- sured, in a most pleasing manner, betwixt one, Sabbath, — one occasion of public devotion, and another. An attention, however, to charity- schools, and more particularly to schools of industry and Sunday-schools, is what I am. here anxious chiefly to recommend as a ne- cessary duty; as wxll as an occupation at once useful and benevolent, — self-edifying and de- lightful. A selection from the excellent Re- ports of the Society for bettering the Con- dition of the Poor, together with two small, volumes, entitled, *' The Economy of Charity," THE CHAIN OF THE DOCTRINES. 411 and written by a highly respectable lady *, will greatly assist your zealous efforts in prose- cuting this agreeable and philanthropic under- taking. My remaining admonition on this head, is one of far greater importance than many may, at first view, be apt to imagine. It is a fault, unfortunately too common, amongst those, who, by reason principally of their local situation, bring to the house of instruction refined tastes, and minds tinctured with a propensity to luxury, to be more ready, in those compli- mentary thanks, which they occasionally pay to their spiritual teachers, to signify their ap- probation of that which gratifies the fancy, than of that which amends the heart; — of striking novelties, brilliant figures, pa^thetie movements, than of the plain word of truth,, preached in simplicity and sincerity. Now, as, ministers are but men, it is necessary to re- collect, that every such expression of mis- placed approbation must have a strong ten^ dency to debauch their minds ; and to occasion their repetition of a culpable neglect of serious exhortation, and of evangelical truth, for the * Mrs. Trimmer, — who has lately gone to receive the re- ward of her labours ; and the soundness of whose judgment was not inferior to the fervency of her piety^ and the ear- nestness of her zeal. 412 SERMON XX. ^ake of that Frivolous motie of instruction^ which they find to be a surer way to the affections of their respective hearers. I would therefore most earnestly beseech you to be- ware, at all times, and in all places, of com- plimenting discourses of this latter description, however great may be their excellencies, and however highly they may have gratified you, when considered as works of taste. The distin- guishing merit of a sermon is, undoubtedly, to illustrate the awful and distinguishing truths of Revelation, and to produce a serious and a permanent impression : — let this considera- tion be ever present to your minds; and so far as the individuals who sit to be judged, cannot wholly avoid pronouncing judgment, establish it as the fixed criterion and standard of your decision. — If you were studiously to confine the tribute of your commendation to discourses possessing these two merits ; — nay, if you were invariably to make a rule of offering it, even when such discourses are destitute of every beauty of compositioD, and every grace of elo- cution, you would at once teach your pastors a salutary lesson, and provide for, at least, the doctrinal and preceptive excellence of the in- structions, which you should, in future, receive. We, who are stewards of the mysteries of God, find much occasion to tremble under our THE CHAIN OF THE DOCTRINES. 413 charge; — to smite upon our bosoms, and anxiously to exclaim, Who is sufficient for these things ? and the very best among us have to lament the very defective and unworthy manner in which we have performed our mo- mentous duties. Conscious of infirmities, and sinking under apprehensions, it is not unnatural then that we should look abroad for every prop, to our hopes of being included amongst the ransomed of Christ; — that we should cling to the pronuse held forth in Scripture unto those who siiall have turned others to righteous- ness, as offering some small abatement of our personal unworthiness to partake of the mighty propitiation and deliverance, which our own hand could never have accomplished. If, then, any reliance may, without presumption, be placed by a Christian pastor on such a soothing prospect, you need not wonder at the earnest- ness, alas ! — it is a selfish zeal, with which I now conjure you to standfast in the Lord, that ye may be blameless and harmless^ the sons of God, without rebuke, in the midst of a crooked and per- verse generation *. In thus addressing you, I but speak for myself: I speak, that I may rejoice in the day of Christ, — that I have not run in vain, neither laboured in vain ;—for what is our hope, our joy, our crown of rejoicing ? are not even * Phil. ii. 15, 414 SERMON XX. ye in the presence of our Lord Jesus Christ ?-^ jre are our glory and joy *. And noWy brethren, I commend you to Gody and to the word of his grace, which is able ta build you up, a?id to give you an inheritance among all them that are sanctified f. I trust you will believe that I speak with that entire sin- cerity which I have at all times carried into the place of instruction, when I do assure you it is not without extreme pain and reluctance that I now resign my charge ; — and that while I submissively yield to, I sincerely lament, the unavoidable circumstances of bodily and mental indisposition, which remove me from the situa- tion of guide to a people, whose general piety, and plain, imcorrupted manners, present a field of contemplation on which the eye loves to re* lieve itself, after having witnessed those vicious morals, and those more artificial modes of life, which prevail in their immediate neighbour* hood. For the attention and respect, far greater than I have merited, which, since my entrance on the cure down to the present moment, I have experienced from you, my friends, as a congregation, accept my sincerest thanks.— There are some to whom I owe particular * I Thess. ii. 19. f ActS;, X3^. 32, THE CHAIN OF THE IX)CrRINES. 415 obligations, and whose friendship will be re- membered by me, wherever I shall be cast- There are some for whom an esteem is mingled with each drop of my blood, and must con- tinue until that shall cease to circulate. Nor can I avoid the selfishness of expressing my hope, that I shall not be altogether blotted from their remembrance ; — at least, that if ever any of those public instructions, from which they may have derived benefit, shall prompt them to a kind of^ce, or to an effort of self- denial, they will put up a passing prayer for the salvation of one whose heart's desire for them is, as it ever was and will be, that they shall be saved * ; — wlio will not forget to solicit Heaven for them in return ; — and who anxiously looks for a renewal of their amity iu a more exalted and permanent state, if it should chance to )be denied in the present doubtful scene of severed friendships and precarious enjoyments. The assurance delivered by our Saviour to his Apostles, — Where I am, there ye shall be also ; — ^his address to the penitent malefactor upon the cross, — Verily, this night thou shall ie mth me in Paradise, — and several other passages in the sacred writings, encourage us to indulge the blessed and pleasing hope, that in a future state of existence we shall be what 416 SERMON XX. We have been, and know one another : — and that from the hymns and liosannahs which swell along the arch of heaven, — from the eternal adoration and gratitude, which, prostrate before the throne of God, it will be our duty, and unspeakable delight, to offer, some inter- vals will be graciously allowed to our affections, for reuniting the ties, which we had drawn together in this lower world. When, therefore, amidst the glories and pleasures of eternity, the parent shall clasp his long-lost child ; — when "brethren shall once more dwell together in unity; — when the new-embodied soul of every friend will rush forth to seek its partner spirit, some inferior satisfaction, it may humbly be expected, will be derived from that re-esta- blished intercourse of respect and attachment, which had subsisted betwixt faithful pastors and their flocks. Finally ; — Brethren, farewell ; — for I can best bear to speak that w^ord, when pondering on such reflections. There is much more that I would say to you ; but just now I am unable : nor is it fitting that I should trespass longer upon your time.—In one word, then, if there be any amongst you, my kind and good hearers, who delight to entertain these con- solatory and refreshing anticipations, see that, by a life of Christian faith and holiness, you THE CHAIN OF THE DOCTRIKFS. 417 assure yourselves of your great recompense of reward. May die grace of God be ever with you. May his favour and blessing attend you and yours. In my last moment, and w^h my latest words in this place, let me express my sincere and ardent wishes for the success of your enrthiy and spiritual concerns. To hear of your happiness, will ever increase mine. To hear of your perseverance in die padis of life, will give me comfort in sickness, in distress, in old age; — will gladden my departing hour, and enable me (if it be allowable to speak thus of any thing earthly) to hope for forgiveness and favour at the tribunal of my Redeemer and Judge.— Farewell. Be perfect:— be of good comfort: — be of one mind: — live in peace: — and may the God of love and peace be with you. Amen, tHi; £nj>. £ £ Printed bj S. Go^njsii,, Little Queca Succt, Locd«n* */•> DATE DUE .--~.^*»' GAYLORD PRINTED IN U S A. ^ %. •>. /-