■y I 
 
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X. X 38 D6i xL 38. "^ST 
 
 OF THE 
 
 THEOLOdlCAL SEMINARY, 
 
 AT 
 
 PROfCETOlV, W. J. 
 
 UONATION /» < 
 
 t> A M r K L A tU N K W , 
 
 iT HHlLiDELPHlA, i- A 
 
 Letter 
 
 JV^o. 
 
 
 |l Case, Djvu^ion ......:....l 
 
 j; .S7/^7/; Section % 
 
 
PaiTi^ed Vy ThaTTO.'psQn. 1810. 
 
 Kngravi'by J-B-Martin, Ri<*limf 
 
 .[UW: J(;.l.L^' D o EJ.AriK.. 
 
SERMONS 
 
 ■% 
 
 COLLECTED FROM 
 
 THE MANUSCRIPTS 
 
 OF THE LATE 
 
 '' That ye be not slothful, but followers of those who, 
 through faith and patience, inherit the promises." 
 
 PRINTED BY SHEPHERD ^ POLLARD. 
 
 1825. 
 

 % 
 
 District of Virginia, to wit : 
 
 Be it remembered, that on the thirtieth day of May, in 
 ,!f*5)f*»3!f**3it the forty-ninth year of the independence of 
 I L. S. j the United States of America, Mary Blair, 
 ********* of the said district, hath deposited in this of- 
 fice, the title of a book, the rio;ht whereof she claims as 
 proprietor, in the words following, to wit : " Sermons 
 collected from the manuscripts of the late Rev. John D. 
 Blair." "That ye be not slothful, but followers of those 
 who, through faith and patience, inherit the promises." 
 In conformity to the act of the Congress of the United 
 States, entitled "An act for the encouragement of learning, 
 by securing the copies of maps, charts and books, to the 
 authors and proprietors of such copies, during the time 
 therein mentioned." 
 
 RD. JEFFRIES, 
 Clerk of the District of Vii^ginia. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 In compliance with the wish of a number of the 
 friends of the Reverend Mr. Blair, his family have 
 selected from his manuscripts, the Sermons which 
 compose the ensuing volume. They would, doubt- 
 less, have appeared much more advantageously, if 
 they had been prepared for the press by his own 
 hand. They are less perfect, too, than they would 
 have been, in consequence of his habit of enlarging 
 before the public, what he had written more briefly 
 in private. Some of them appear to be among his 
 earliest compositions of that kind, while others be- 
 long to a later period. Although they are less fully 
 and less carefully written out than they would have 
 been, had their author composed them for publica- 
 tion, yet they are deemed not unworthy of being 
 read, and are commended to that blessing of Hea- 
 ven, which alone can render them extensively useful. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 ' ' OQ^ 
 
 
 
 cTi. 
 
 V. 
 
 pa. 
 
 I, On the death of Washington, 
 
 Psalms, 
 
 12. 
 
 1. 
 
 3 
 
 JI. On the government of God, 
 
 Psalms, 
 
 97, 
 
 I, 
 
 17 
 
 m. On the condescension of God, 
 
 Psalms, 
 
 8, 
 
 4, 
 
 28 
 
 IV. The remembrance of God, 
 
 Eccles. 
 
 12, 
 
 1, 
 
 35 
 
 V. On Infidefity, 
 
 Hebrews, 
 
 3, 
 
 12, 
 
 51 
 
 VI. Exhortation against sin, 
 
 Hebrews, 
 
 3, 
 
 13, 
 
 64 
 
 VII. Deceitfulness of the heart, 
 
 Jeremiah, 
 
 17, 
 
 19, 
 
 75 
 
 VIII. On the value of the soul, 
 
 Matthew, 
 
 16, 
 
 26, 
 
 82 
 
 IX. ReUgion a reasonable service, 
 
 1 John, 
 
 5, 
 
 3, 
 
 91 
 
 X. Religion the one thing needful. 
 
 Luke, 
 
 10, 
 
 42, 
 
 103 
 
 XI. On anger. 
 
 Proverbs, 
 
 19, 
 
 1, 
 
 110 
 
 XII. The Gospel rule, 
 
 Matthew, 
 
 7, 
 
 12, 
 
 123 
 
 XIII. Common lot of the righteous and wicked, 
 
 Eccles. 
 
 9, 
 
 2, 
 
 134 
 
 XIV. The Divinity of the Saviour, 
 
 John, 
 
 5, 
 
 23, 
 
 144 
 
 XV. The benefit of affliction. 
 
 Psalms, 
 
 119, 
 
 71, 
 
 153 
 
 X"ST. Future punishment, • 
 
 Matthew, 
 
 25, 
 
 46, 
 
 166 
 
 XVII. On the general judgment, 
 
 Acts, 
 
 17, 
 
 31, 
 
 179 
 
 XVin. The uncertainty to us of future events, 
 
 Eccles. 
 
 8, 
 
 7, 
 
 191 
 
 XIX. On prayer, 
 
 Philipp. 
 
 4, 
 
 6, 
 
 203 
 
 XX. On salvation by grace, 
 
 Ephesians 
 
 , 2, 
 
 8, 
 
 217 
 
 XXI. On the glory of the Saviour, 
 
 Revelatior 
 
 ,, 5, 
 
 12 
 
 230 
 
 XXII. Wisdom justified. 
 
 Matthew, 
 
 H, 
 
 19. 
 
 239 
 
 XXIII. Excellency of the righteous, 
 
 Proverbs, 
 
 12, 
 
 26, 
 
 248 
 
 XXIV. On covetousness. 
 
 Luke, 
 
 12. 
 
 15, 
 
 256 
 
 XXV. The character of Christ, 
 
 Matthew, 
 
 22, 
 
 42, 
 
 264 
 
 XXVI. The mystery of Providence, 
 
 Bomans, 
 
 11. 
 
 33, 
 
 273 
 
 XX\TI. The vision of Jesus, 
 
 John, 
 
 12, 
 
 21, 
 
 282 
 
 XXVIII. The Gospel no cause for shame, 
 
 Bomans, 
 
 1, 
 
 16, 
 
 296 
 
 XXXIX. Evil society, 
 
 Psalms, 
 
 1, 
 
 1, 
 
 311 
 
 XXX. The resurrection. 
 
 ICor. 
 
 6, 
 
 u. 
 
 319 
 
 XXXI. Christian heroism, 
 
 n. Tim. 
 
 *, 
 
 6, 
 
 335 
 
SERMONS. 
 
TO THE PUBLIC. 
 
 The following Sermon was delivered and is pub- 
 lished by appointment of the Greneral Assembly of 
 the Commonwealth of Virginia. 
 
 That it met with any favorable reception, from 
 the pulpit, was doubtless owing more to the affect- 
 ing solemnity of the occasion ; to the high sense 
 which the Legislature entertained of the worth of 
 the deceased George Washington, and to their 
 unfeigned sorrow for his death, than to the merit of 
 the performance itself. 
 
 But, since they have been pleased to request the 
 publication of it, it is sent to the press without hesi- 
 tation. 
 
 JOHN D. BLAIR, 
 Chaplain to the House of Delegates, 
 Richmond, January, 1800. 
 

 ON THE DEATH OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 •^ Help, Lord, for the Godly man ceaseth ; for the 
 faithful fail from amons; the children of men J' 
 
 Psalms, 12th chap. 1st verse. 
 
 In the familiar course of human events, we are 
 apt to be regardless of the hand of God, in the usual 
 operations of nature, and in all the ordinary instan- 
 ces of mortality which are presented before our eyes. 
 
 There is no doubt that, upon due consideration, 
 the one of these would be interpreted into clear in- 
 dications of an over-ruling Providence, and the other 
 improved into impressive and affecting mementos of 
 human frailty. Through the familiarity of both, 
 however, we are sufficiently attentive to neither. 
 
 But, when the Supreme Ruler of the Universe 
 makes bare his arm by some signal display of his 
 power, his sovereignty, or his displeasure ; when he 
 visits a city with some deadly contagion, or removes 
 from amongst us such of our fellow-men as were 
 eminently virtuous and useful, who had engrossed 
 our affections, and on whose preservation our inte- 
 rests materially depended ; w hen he makes the 
 Godly man to cease, and the faithful man to fail, 
 he rouses by such high dispensations the attention 
 of all his creatures, and causes them to mourn under 
 the afflictive visitations of his rod. 
 
^.^.^ 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF 
 
 Impressed by such circumstances with a sense of 
 our weakness and dependence, and affected by the 
 occurrence of such sorrowful events, we are brought 
 to perform the duty, and exercise the privilege of 
 nature, by putting ourselves more immediately un- 
 der the guardian care of Heaven, and flying for suc- 
 cour to the throne of Grace. Hence the importu- 
 nate application of the Psalmist in the words of the 
 text. 
 
 Who was the particular subject of his plaintive 
 strains^ it is not material that I should now stay to 
 enquire. They are applicable to the case of all 
 good men ; for, their lives are more or less impor- 
 tant to the peace and prosperity of this world. 
 
 On the present occasion, we understand their ap- 
 plication, alas ! too well. Never did a people meet 
 with so great a loss as that which we deplore. 
 Never was there before so loud a call for earnest 
 supplication to the Father of Mercies. Never had 
 the people of America such cause of funeral grief, 
 as that which has brought us together to-day. The 
 Godly man hath ceased, and the faithful hath fail- 
 ed : — The beloved Washington is no more. 
 
 Often do we behold the sorrows of the afflicted 
 parent, the disconsolate widow, or the helpless or- 
 phan ; but in this sad instance, all America is be- 
 come a house of mourning, and signals of distress 
 appear on every side. The melancholy tidings of 
 his death have deeply afflicted all descriptions of 
 persons. The aged sire and tender matron bow 
 down the hoary head in pensive sorrow ; and the 
 cheek of the ingenuous youth is bedewed with tears. 
 In this numerous assembly I see sadness depicted 
 in every countenance. 
 
WASHINGTON. 5 
 
 On this memorable day, the whole representatives 
 of the people of his native State, by whose appoint- 
 ment these funeral honors are paid, appear in the 
 sable badge of mourning in testimony of their grief 
 for the loss of this illustrious, faithful man ; and 
 every individual citizen sympathises in responsive 
 sorrow. 
 
 It is no wonder ; he was the ^^ hero of liberty, 
 the father of his country, the first of patriots, and 
 the friend of man."* Great is the worth of men of 
 piety and virtue to every commurtity; but when 
 these are found to adorn conspicuous and important 
 stations, it is wholly incalculable. The Godly and 
 the faithful man is not only the most respectable in 
 his private character ; he is not only an honor to the 
 State that gave him birth, and to the race from which 
 he sprang, but he is the brightest ornament, and the 
 most extensive benefactor to the world at large. 
 
 Virtue is not only necessary to the peace and hap- 
 piness of private life, but it is that alone by which a 
 nation can rise to greatness, or enjoy any lastine; 
 prosperity. 
 
 This, in a gi-eater or less degree, is true of all na- 
 tions; but to those which, like ours, are blessed 
 with free republican forms of government, of which 
 virtue is the leading principle, it is of still the grea- 
 ter usefulness, and the more indispensable necessity. 
 It not only reflects upon them their greatest lustre, 
 but is, in truth, their only sure defence. 
 
 When vice and licentiousness, by an injudicious 
 < hoice, or any unfortunate accident, are advanced to 
 
 Mr. M;4ilison's enlo[»iiim in the Assembly. 
 
6 ON THE DEATH OF 
 
 important and influential stations of honor or profit, 
 or of power, they do not confine themselves within 
 the immediate circle of the court, but they diffuse 
 their baneful influence all around, and gradually 
 pervade and corrupt all parts of the community. 
 Encouraged by the practice, instead of being sup- 
 pressed by the influence of those who are in authori- 
 ty, they stalk abroad with hardy front, until finally 
 they triumph over the honor, the dignity, the liber- 
 ties, nay, the very existence of the people. Hence 
 the saying of the wise man in the Proverbs, "when 
 the wicked beareth rule, the people mourn." 
 
 In contrast with this, let us view the Godly and 
 faithful man, in a like situation, and learn hence to 
 estimate the infinite superiority of his character, and 
 his worth to society. 
 
 Walking in the ^^ paths of truth and grace," he 
 is not only himself a most dignified and venerable 
 character, but becomes to others a pattern worthy 
 of all imitation. He exhibits virtue in its native 
 comeliness and purity, and from the eminence of his 
 station he spreads a glory around it. He recom- 
 mends religion by liis example : he restrains vice 
 by his authority. That prevails and rejoices under 
 the patronage of liis smiles ; this flies from his pre- 
 sence, or shrinks at his approach with all the pusil- 
 lanimity of conscious guilt. " When the righteous 
 man is exalted, the people rejoice." In him vir- 
 tue is personified as their representative, and to him 
 their interests, as far as this is necessary, are cheer- 
 fully entrusted. The amiable excellence of his cha- 
 racter acquires their confidence, and his integrity 
 renders the deposit safe. 
 
WASHINGTON. 7 
 
 Surely the death of such a man is justly to be 
 regretted as a great public loss ; and with affecting 
 propriety has it beeu made the s ubject of the Psal 
 mist's lamentations in the passage before us. Such 
 a man, my brethren, was the dear friend whom we 
 have lost. 
 
 He was well tried ; he was thoroughly proved 
 by his country in a long and variegated life. He 
 always held himself ready to obey its call on any 
 emergency, and he ever discharged his trust with 
 the utmost fidelity. He entered into its service in 
 the prime of his life, and he continued in it, with 
 but little intermission, to the day of his death. 
 
 In every station which this great man filled ; in 
 every sphere of life in which he was appointed to 
 move, I might call upon our fellow-citizens from 
 one end of the continent to the other, and with tears 
 of gratitude they would all bear testimony that he 
 invariably exhibited the evidence and maintained 
 the character of a " Godly and a faithful man.'' 
 
 As long as the people of America shall continue 
 blessed with the enjoyment of peace, of liberty and 
 independence, it will not be forgotten, that next to a 
 kind and gracious God, who always made this coun- 
 try his care, they are greatly indebted for them to 
 the manly firmness, the unremitted exertions, and 
 the inviolable fidelity of George Washington, 
 
 Raised up by Divine Providence to defend the 
 liberties and vindicate the rights of his country, he 
 nobly stepped forward in the day of her distress, 
 when oppressed by foreign domination, and bleed- 
 ing from the wounds inflicted by an invading army ; 
 and against a formidable host, led on her little band 
 
8 ON THE DEATH OF 
 
 of patriots. Then did his mighty soul, which nevei 
 brooked oppression, exert its energy. A sincere 
 lover of liberty, and ^* early accustomed to appreci- 
 ate its value," he exchanged the ease of domestic 
 retirement for the field of battle, and fought valiant- 
 ly for the people and for " the cities of his God." 
 Nor from this did he withdraw, until liberty was 
 effectually secured, and its triumphs were proclaim- 
 ed throughout our happy country. 
 
 Through many a wearisome and long campaign, 
 and in all the vicissitudes of war, sometimes pros- 
 perous, and often adverse, he was the uniform, the 
 faithful, and the steadfast friend. 
 
 In his highest prosperity, he entertained no 
 thoughts of ambition ; and in the darkest and most 
 gloomy hour, when the hopes of many were begin- 
 ning to fail, and they were almost ready to give the 
 struggle for liberty up, the steady soul of Wash- 
 ington, firm and unmoved, animated with the pur- 
 est patriotism, and fixing his hopes on Heaven, was 
 stable as a rock. He never for a moment deserted 
 the all important cause, nor suffered himself to des- 
 pair of success. At every hazard he resolved to de- 
 fend the interests of his beloved country, or that he 
 would not survive its downfall, but perish rather in 
 the general ruin. 
 
 If the united voice of America did not render it 
 unnecessary, there are, I perceive in this assembly, 
 not a few who would be ready to attest the justice of 
 the character which I have thus far drawn. Tiiere 
 are those here who were with him in tlie war, al- 
 most from the beginning to the end, who were wit- 
 nesses of his wisdom in the council, and his valor 
 
WASHINGTON. 9 
 
 ill the field ; who were trained to arms in his camp, 
 who have often fought by his side, and whom I see 
 alive this day to the friendship which was contracted 
 in adversity, and cemented by the precious blood 
 of many a fallen and many a surviving patriot. 
 Ask these men ; ask all of this description, to a 
 man, who shall be convened throughout America, 
 on this mournful occasion, what the deceased Wash- 
 ington was ; whether he was always at his post 
 in the hour of danger ; whether he loved his coun- 
 try; whether he wsis faithful to the important trust 
 which she committed to his hands ? And read the 
 answer in their eyes. 
 
 O ! Washington ! now that thou art gone, deli 
 cacy to thy feelings no longer forbids strict justice 
 to thy merits. To thy country thou ever wast a 
 ^^good and faithful servant." 
 
 When the storm of war was over, he took an af- 
 fectionate leave of his brave companions in arms, 
 resigned his commission into the hands of Congress, 
 and returned to the quiet walks of private life. 
 But, there he was not long permitted to enjoy repose. 
 In him were concentered the valour of the soldier, 
 and the wisdom of the sage ; and he was called 
 upon by the unanimous voice of his countrymen, to 
 administer the government which they had ordain- 
 ed, to '• preserve domestic tranquillity,-^ and perpe- 
 tuate the liberty lie had contributed so much to ac- 
 quire. The constitution of the United States was 
 quite a new experiment. It was the result, not only 
 of their united wisdom, but of their mutual couces> 
 sions also, and the administration of it must of ne- 
 cessity have been an arduous task, to which the 
 
 2 
 
10 ON THE DEATH OF 
 
 greatest expericucc, prudence and intelligence alone 
 were adequate. It was in our now deceased friend 
 that these qualities were in the highest degree com- 
 bined, and on his shoulders was imposed the mighty 
 burden. In the capacity of Chief Magistrate, for 
 eight years, he laboured incessantly to promote the 
 public good, which evidently appeared to be the 
 only object of his ambition. 
 
 On the subject of politics, I am but little instruct- 
 ed, and with it, it is still less my inclination to inter- 
 meddle. To say nothing, then, of the acknowledg- 
 ed superiority of the beloved President's talents as 
 a statesman, suffice it to observe, that notwithstand- 
 ing the contrariety of opinion that soon appeared 
 amongst our fellow-citizens respecting government 
 as a science, or the administration of it as an art ; not- 
 withstanding that, upon this subject, brother and 
 brother, father and son, were often found divided 
 against each other ; yet, not the smallest suspicion 
 of George Washington's integrity ever mingled 
 itself with any disapprobation of public measures. 
 
 In March, 1797, he resigned this honorable and 
 important office, and retired once more to his peace- 
 ful abode at Mount Vernon, which had long been 
 the favorite object of his wishes. His resignation 
 was accompanied by an affecting token of his love, 
 in communicating to his fellow-citizens the result of 
 his experience, and in tendering to them his last 
 fatherly advice respecting their sentiments and con- 
 duct towards each otlier, and their true policy as a 
 nation. And then, with all the tenderness of paren- 
 lal fondness, he took an affectionate leave. 
 
WASHINGTON. 11 
 
 If, on this sorrowful occasion, a place could be 
 found for any criticism on his style and composition. 
 1 would just observe, that the writings of Wash- 
 ington, correct without study, elegant without art, 
 resemble a native wood-land flower, which displays 
 numberless indescribable beauties to the eye of every 
 beholder, itself alone unconscious of its charms. 
 While his precious memory shall warm and animate, 
 these will please, instruct and edify the latest pos- 
 terity. 
 
 He now flattered himself, that he had bidden a 
 final adieu to all the troubles and perplexities of pub- 
 lic life, and that he should be permitted to spend 
 the little remainder of his days in peace. But, alas ! 
 the deccitfulness of all earthly prospects! like the 
 Patriarch Abraham, he had to encounter the seve- 
 rest trial in the concluding scene. 
 
 His country, alarmed by the apprehension of fo- 
 reign danger, cast her eyes once more upon her well- 
 tried, faithful General, for her defence, if the cala- 
 mity which seemed to impend, should actually be- 
 fal : 1 have called this the severest trial, because 
 he was now far advanced in years, and his arm was 
 enfeebled by age. Cut, old as he was, though he 
 heard with grief, he obeyed with promptitude his 
 country's call, and prepared himself once more to 
 take the field, whenever necessity should require, 
 and buckle the armour on his weary limbs. 
 
 In this juncture of affairs, it pleased the God of 
 Heaven, whose councils are to us unknown, to take 
 him from us, and release him from all his labours. 
 He called him to put the harness off, and enter into 
 his rest. What fate awaits our beloved country, it 
 
12 ON THE DEATH OF 
 
 belongs to him alone, who can pry iato futurity, to 
 tell. We hope and trust in God, that the olive 
 branch of America will still be regarded, and that 
 our ambassadors abroad and envoys extraordinary, 
 will, by his blessing, succeed in accommodating, on 
 honorable terms, all existing differences, and in per- 
 petuating peace with all the nations of the earth. 
 
 But if not ; if our ears are again to be assailed by 
 the din of arms, and war shall rage, we shall miss 
 this valiant, faithful man; and the anxious enquiry 
 in America will be, where shall we find another 
 Washington? 
 
 In drawing the character of the great and illus- 
 trious, it is not the only object to pay that tribute to 
 merit which justice demands, but especially to ex- 
 hibit their example for the imitation of others. With 
 this view, permit me to add, that our departed friend 
 was not only a faithful, but a Godly man. Fidelity 
 to his country was an amiable and striking trait in 
 his character ; but, to render it complete, we add, 
 piety to God. This, like the oil on Aaron's robe, 
 gives it a sweet perfume ; or, like the mantle of Eli- 
 jah, on the shoulders of Elisha, it spreads majestic 
 grace and glory around it. Such was Washing- 
 ton. Virtue adorned his private life, and his first 
 act of Providential duty was to dedicate himself to 
 God, and commend his country to his Divine pro- 
 tection. This act of piety made the hearts of all 
 good men in America glad, and they rejoiced under 
 the auspices of a chief magistrate who thus paid 
 homage to the Ruler of the Universe. 
 
 But, still more was the piety of their General the 
 ground of their confidence through the more perilous 
 
WASHINGTON. 13 
 
 scenes of war. While his valor and fortitude quali- 
 fied him, above his fellows, for the command of a 
 patriotic army, this not only endeared him to all the 
 wise and virtuous, but made him, as they rightly sup- 
 posed, the peculiar care of Heaven. They were not 
 mistaken. This fortified his integrity, and this se- 
 cured his camp. The valiant Chief, although he 
 was himself an host, and superior in courage and 
 conduct to the opposite commanders, yet knowing 
 that " the battle was not always to the strong," 
 with his eyes directed to Heaven, commended him- 
 self and his army to the guidance of infinite wis- 
 dom, and to the protection of our omnipotent shield. 
 Thus qualified, he went forth nnder the banners of 
 the Lord of Hosts : he fought iu his fear, and con- 
 quered in his name. 
 
 ^•^The first in peace and the first in war," he was 
 a singular example of virtue and piety in both. In 
 the humble sphere of private life, in the more splen- 
 did chair of state, and amidst the confusion and li- 
 centiousness of war, this great man *^ walked with 
 God." His heart was impressed with the highest 
 reverence for his Holy name, and in his presence the 
 mouth of the profane was shut. 
 
 Who of the heroes of antiquity shall compete for 
 fame with the illustrious Chief? Alexander was 
 vain-glorious, and sometimes cruel ; Csesar was am- 
 bitious ; and the life of Cato terminated in an act of 
 suicide. 
 
 But, Washington was not ambitious. Such was 
 his modesty, that but for the trump of fame, the ri- 
 sing generation had not known that he was the 
 "hero of liberty" who rescued them from ])ondage. 
 
14 ox THE DEATH OF 
 
 Guided by the wisdom, and protected by the power, 
 he was also resigned to the will of Heaven. Piety 
 adorned his youth ; it rendered his *^ hoary head a 
 crown of glory," and softened his dying bed. His 
 setting sun went doAvn unclouded and serene, the 
 happy presage of a bright succeeding day. 
 
 Alas ! " The Godly man hath ceased, and the 
 faithful hath failed." 
 
 Heavy and afflictive is the loss wliich the people 
 of America have sustained by the death of this great 
 man. It is only in some measure retrievable by the 
 improvement we shall make of it. Let us, then, 
 under this sore visitation, learn in the first place, 
 humbly to acknowledge and adore the hand of God. 
 He is the sovereign disposer of all events, and he has 
 a right to do whatsoever he will with his own. In 
 his adorable, but to us mysterious providence, he has 
 taken away our Washington ; and though we can- 
 not but mourn his loss, yet, since it is the will of 
 Heaven, we will endeavour not to repine. 
 
 2. To submission to the Divine will, let us add a 
 grateful acknowledgement of Divine goodness. God 
 who hath taken our dear friend away, first gave him 
 to us, qualified for the most important purposes. 
 The whole of his useful life was devoted to the good 
 of his country, and he lived to a good old age. He 
 lived to perform the important work of procuring and 
 establishing the independence of America, and pro- 
 claiming liberty to all her sons. Through all the 
 perils and the fatigues of war ; amidst the dangers 
 of the field of battle, and under the pitched tent on 
 the cold ground by night, the life and health of the 
 illustrious Chief, and of his valiant army, were most 
 
WASHINGTON. 15 
 
 graciously preserved. Many a brave patriot fell ; 
 but the General, on whom so much tlepended, was 
 carefully protected from the "pestilence that walk- 
 ed in darkness, and from the arrow which flew by 
 day." Nor was he taken hence, until he saw his 
 country smiling in peace, and settled under the 
 most excellent constitution that any nation on earth 
 ever enjoyed. For all these mercies, " let the peo- 
 ple praise thee, O God ; let all the people praise 
 thee." 
 
 3. The character of the deceased, while it en- 
 dears his memory, should also be improved into a 
 source of consolation to all who mourn his death. 
 People of America ! aflfectionate fellow-citizens of 
 liis native State ! ye may weep for yourselves, but 
 
 weep not for Washington. He rests at length 
 from all his labours ; and if a mansion be prepared 
 in glory, for piety and virtue, thither I trust he is 
 gone, and there will he shine, as a star in the firma- 
 ment, for ever and ever. " Blessed are the dead 
 who die in the Lord." 
 
 4. Suffer me to recommend the example of our 
 departed friend, to the imitation of his countrymen. 
 It is dignified and lovely, and shews to what per- 
 fection human nature may arrive. In this, although 
 he is dead, he still speaks to us. Ye youth of 
 America, the hope of your country ! ye rising pa- 
 triots of Virginia ! learn that to be truly great, you 
 must be sincerely good. 
 
 Who will now fill the place of the American 
 chief? The expecting eyes of your country are 
 turned upon you. She will have need for you in 
 the cabinet, at least, if not in the field. If you 
 
16 ON THE DEATH OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 would be prepared to do her service, study the cha- 
 racter, cultivate the virtues, and follow the exam- 
 ple of your Washington. 
 
 5. Finally, let us improve this solemn occasion, 
 by serious reflections on our own tendency to dust. 
 AVe have here no abiding city. *' It is appointed 
 to all men once to die," and the temple of this body 
 will soon be dissolved. Let us apply to the Re- 
 deemer of the world for pardon and salvation. Let 
 us implore the assistance of Divine grace, that we 
 may ** so number our days as to apply our hearts 
 to wisdom." Let us cordially imbibe the princi- 
 ples of piety, and steadily pursue the practice of 
 virtue ; so that when this " earthly house of our ta- 
 bernacle shall be dissolved, we may have a build- 
 ing of God, a house not made witli hands, eternal 
 in the Heavens." 
 
ON THE GOVERNMENT OF GOD. 17 
 
 ON THE GOVERNMENT OF GOD. 
 
 ^' The Lord reigneth^ let the earth rejoice : let the 
 multitude of Isles be glad thereof.'^ 
 
 Psalms, 97th chap. 1st verse. 
 
 The state of man on earth, is a state of imperfec- 
 tion and of dependence. Ever anxious about futu- 
 rity, and deeply interested in it, yet unapprised of 
 the events which await him, and which time alone 
 will disclose ; seeing but darkly, and imperfectly 
 comprehending the objects which surround him; 
 an incompetent judge, at best, of what is really 
 good for him in the present state, he would seem, 
 indeed, to walk in a vain show, if he were not di- 
 rected to a power higher than himself. But, when 
 taught to put himself under the guidance of Divine 
 wisdom, and under the protection of an Almighty 
 arm, he will feel himself secure, and will be confi- 
 dent of all necessary support and consolation, con- 
 sidering within himself that ''the Lord reigneth." 
 
 It is much to be lamented, however, that pre- 
 sumption too often accompanies ignorance ; and, 
 that the blindness of men to their own imperfections, 
 renders them Ijlind, also, to their best interests, and 
 to the necessity of looking up for counsel and wis- 
 dom from above. On this account, it is the unhap- 
 py lot of many to live without God in the world : 
 in a state of prosperity, without any sense of obli- 
 gation ; and in the day of adversity, without conso- 
 
 3 
 
18 ON THE GOVERNMENT 
 
 lation or hope. It is surely evident, from the insta- 
 bility of human things; from the great variety of 
 scenes through which we pass ; from the frequent 
 occurrence of untoward events, which we could not 
 foresee, or, foreseeing, were unable to control ; from 
 the failure of the best concerted plans, and from the 
 woful effects which success itself is sometimes found 
 to produce, that the lot of man is not at his own dis- 
 posal. When we see that ^^ the race is not always 
 to the swift, nor the battle to the strong," we are 
 led to contemplate the high dispensations of Divine 
 Providence. Hence, then, it is the duty and the 
 privilege of man, to make the Lord his sanctuary, 
 and place his trust in the rock of his salvation. To 
 this we are frequently encouraged in his word : and 
 in his government is the earth invited to rejoice. 
 
 In the further contemplation of this subject, we 
 are naturally led to consider the attributes of God, 
 as the ground of our trust and consolation in Him, 
 as the Governor of the World. 
 
 1. In the first place, he possesses all power. His 
 arm is strong and mighty. He can do whatsoever 
 he will, and none can hinder him. He ruleth with 
 uncoutroulable sway in the armies of Heaven, and 
 doth his pleasure amongst the inhabitants of the 
 earth. He sitteth on his throne and commandeth 
 all the elements. The lightnings flash, the thunder 
 roars, the earthquake rocks the ground, in obedience 
 to his sovereign orders ; and they are limited in 
 their extent and operation by his controuliug power. 
 He curbs the fury of the tempests, and prescribes 
 their bounds to the billows of the ocean. He re- 
 strains the wrath of man, and at his presence the 
 
OF GOD. 19 
 
 devils flee. Nothing can withstand his power; no- 
 thing resist his will. All created things are in his 
 hand, for he made them all. He, then, who makes 
 the Lord his trust ; who puts himself under the pro- 
 tection of the Almighty, shall stand secure. He 
 shall be established on a rock, and say within him- 
 self, if the Lord be for me, who can be against me ? 
 Dangers may threaten and foes invade ; but dan- 
 gers shall not appal, nor foes prevail against the 
 man whose defence is the munition of rocks. 
 Though weak in himself, he is strong in the Lord, 
 and in the power of his might. The language of 
 the Psalmist, on this subject, is very natural, and 
 highly expressive of that confidence which the pro- 
 tection of God inspires : ^' The Lord is on my side ; 
 I will not fear. What can man do unto me ? The 
 Lord is the strength of my life ; of whom shall I 
 be afraid ? Though an host should encamp against 
 me, my heart shall not fear. Though wars should 
 rise against me, in this will I be confident.^' The 
 favour and protection of an able earthly friend, is no 
 little consolation ; but, it is infinitely better to trust 
 in the Lord, than to put confidence in princes. Many 
 are the exigencies of life, in which none but God 
 can support, or deliver us. His arm is never shor- 
 tened that it cannot save. He is a ready and an 
 all-sufficient help in every time of need. Does the 
 poor man cry ? Is the lonely traveller distressed 
 in the wilderness ? The Lord shall send them food. 
 Is innocence helpless, and in any instance oppres- 
 sed ? Let it not despond ; it shall not be utterly 
 cast down while the Lord reigneth. He can rebuke the 
 oppressor and set the captive free. Let the widow 
 
20 ON THE GOVERNMENT 
 
 rejoice, that the Lord reigneth, for he is the widow's 
 God. Let the stranger rejoice, for God is his sliield. 
 Let the orphan rejoice, for God is liis stay. Let 
 the whole earth rejoice, for *^ the Lord God omnipo- 
 tent reigneth.'' 
 
 2. In God, the Governor of the World, there is 
 infinite wisdom to direct the exercise of Almighty 
 power. If he can do what he will, he will also do 
 what is right. He is not only wonderful in work- 
 ing, but he is wise in counsel. The influence of 
 misguided power might injure or destroy whom it 
 meant to befriend and relieve ; in which case, there 
 might be more cause to fear, than to rejoice. Men, 
 through mere weakness of judgment, may, and of- 
 ten, do, make a destructive display of their power. 
 But, the wise Governor of the World surely will 
 do right. He is perfectly skilled in all the affaii's 
 of his government, and his wisdom directs all parts 
 of his dominions. We cannot survey the visible 
 works of his hand without being impressed with a 
 sense of his wisdom. We may well adopt the lan- 
 guage of the Psalmist, and say, upon a review of 
 the creation, " Wonderful are thy works, O ! Lord, 
 and in wisdom thou hast made them all.'' He who 
 from a dark confused chaos could bring forth the 
 beautiful and well ordered system of the universe, 
 can surely be at no loss for wisdom to conduct 
 it afterwards. He knows how to order all things 
 wisely, and to accommodate all his works to an- 
 swer their respective ends. He can bring light 
 out of darkness, and order out of confusion. The 
 dispensations of his providence may many* times 
 appear to us, to be intricate and mysterious, dark 
 
OF GOD. 21 
 
 and gloomy ; we can neither see the reason of tliem, 
 nor comprehend the design. We may he unable to 
 trace his footsteps : clouds and darkness may ap- 
 pear to be round about him ; and yet, by events, 
 apparently the most unpromising, his own glory, 
 and the happiness of his creatures shall be promo- 
 ted. In all such cases, it is the consolation of good 
 and considerate men, that Grod's providence pre- 
 sides, and that all things are conducted by infinite 
 wisdom. Hence are they encouraged to commit 
 their ways to God, and to ask counsel of him, per- 
 suaded that he will direct their steps. When, 
 therefore, God promises to his people that he will 
 lead them and guide them with his eye ; that he will 
 be a light to them in darkness, and that he will di- 
 rect their steps ; that " he will guide them by his 
 counsel and afterwards receive them to glory," they 
 may confidently commit the keeping of their ways 
 to him. They may rejoice in his government, 
 doubly secured by his power and wisdom. 
 
 3. The Lord is a God of infinite goodness. Ter- 
 rible, indeed, to such guilty siuners as we, would 
 be the strength of the Almighty, if it were not tem- 
 pered with mercy, and a tender regard to the frailty 
 of his creatures. But, he remembereth our frame, 
 that we are but dust ; and our constant experience 
 of his goodness, changes the dread of his power in- 
 to a confidence of his protection. He is good, and 
 he doth good continually. His tender mercies are 
 over all his works. " The Lord God, merciful and 
 gracious, slow to anger, abundant in goodness and 
 truth, forgiving iniquity, transgressions and sins," 
 is his memorial to all generations. He sustains 
 
22 ON THE GOVERNMENT 
 
 the weak ; be relieves the oppressed ; he feeds the 
 poor. His mercy visits the habitations of men ; 
 and there is no living creature that does not partake 
 of his bounty. He is ever disposed to be gracious ; 
 but, to those who are in the greatest need of a help- 
 er, his goodness is most conspicuous, and his provi- 
 dence seems most actively employed. He beholds 
 the falling tear ; he hears the voice of affliction ; he 
 answers the importunate calls of poverty ; he de- 
 lights in rendering happy all the subjects of his go- 
 vernment. Indeed, our sins often render it neces- 
 sary that he should contend with us in judgment, 
 and that the dispensations of his providence should 
 be of the afflictive kind. But, even liere we cannot 
 distrust the goodness of our God, for his tender com- 
 passions always accompany the rod. Afflictions are 
 necessary to reclaim us from sin, which is the only 
 source of lasting sorrow. Under the mild govern- 
 ment of God, they are designed for our good, and 
 are really blessings in disguise. We must acknow- 
 ledge, after all, that our punishment is far less than 
 our iniquities have deserved ; and thus bear our tes- 
 timony to the goodness of God. Considering the 
 character we sustain as guilty sinners, and the situa- 
 tion in which we are placed as candidates for eter- 
 nity, the corrections of his hand are but tokens of 
 his love. Afflictions do not spring out of the dust. 
 We are sure that God doth not willingly afflict the 
 children of men. Judgment is his strange work, 
 and mercy is his delight. If he chastise his people, 
 it is only for their good ; it is that they may be re- 
 claimed from dangerous and destructive courses ; 
 and tliat their lisjht afflictions, which are but for a 
 
OF GOD. 23 
 
 inomeut, may work out for them a far more exceed- 
 ing and eternal weight of glory. In the mean time, 
 he does not abandon whom he finds it necessary to 
 correct. He is with them in six troubles, and in 
 seven he does not forsake them. His displeasure 
 soon passes away, and he changes the plaintive ef- 
 fusions of sorrow into songs of praise. His "an- 
 ger,'' says the Psalmist, " eudureth but a moment. 
 In his favour is life. Weeping may endure for a 
 night, but joy cometh in the morning." 
 
 4. We may rejoice in the government of God, 
 because it is always righteous and impartial. So- 
 vereign and independent, he is no respecter of per- 
 sons, and can be under no possible temptation to 
 give any but a righteous decree. He is not to be 
 flattered by compliments, nor terrified by threaten- 
 ings, nor bribed by gold. It is said, in the book of 
 Proverbs, ^^ that many will entreat the favor of the 
 Prince ;" but it is also added, that '' favor is deceit- 
 ful." When men are umpires in any cause, they 
 are liable to an influence that does not proceed from 
 the merits of the case. The diflferent circumstances 
 of the contending parties : the prospect of advantage, 
 or habits of intimacy with one or the other: or the 
 partial discernment of the Judge may induce him to 
 pervert judgment, or may expose him to the danger, 
 against his inclination, of passing an unrighteous 
 sentence. But this happens not under the govern- 
 ment of God. He suspends an equal scale, and 
 holds the balance even. The injured and oppress- 
 ed may appeal to him with confidence, as the aven- 
 ger of their wrongs. Prosperous wickedness re- 
 ceives no countenance from him; and from the com- 
 
24 ON THE GOVERNMENT 
 
 plaints of poverty he turns not away. He regards 
 not the rich any more than the poor: they meet to- 
 getlier before him on equal terms; for, they are all 
 the work of his hands. It may be alledged, per- 
 haps, that this doctrine, though necessarily true, is 
 not applicable to the present state of the world ; and 
 that it will not bear the test of experience and ob- 
 servation. We see that fraud is practised, and op- 
 pression too often exercised with success, amongst 
 men. To this it may be answered, that the gains 
 of dishonesty, and the reign of oppression, are not 
 of any long continuance : and to an attentive obser- 
 ver of the providence of God, even in the present 
 life, it will probably appear, that in the end, he 
 only, that ^' walketh uprightly, walketh surely.'^ 
 But, however this may be, it is certain that there is 
 a day of retribution approaching, when all these 
 differences shall be finally adjusted ; when the 
 rigliteous shall receive their recompence of reward, 
 and the wicked shall suffer the wages of their iniqui- 
 ty. In the mean time, it is the influence of this im- 
 pression to support the good man in his integrity, 
 and, in some measure, at least, to arrest the designs 
 of the violent and unjust. Let the good man, then, 
 '^ commit his way unto the Lord ; let liim trust in 
 him, and he shall bring forth his righteousness as 
 the light, and his judgment as the noon day." 
 
 5. We may rejoice that the Lord reignetb, be- 
 cause he is every where present. Dependent as we 
 are at all times, upon his care and protection, it 
 should be a ground of consolation to us, that he is 
 continually about our path, a present help in every 
 time of need. He is not like the Gods of the Hea- 
 
OF GOD. 25 
 
 then, "on a journey, or perad venture asleep, or en- 
 gaged about other business," when their votaries call 
 upon them in their distress. The Lord is ever near 
 to them that are in trouble. His ear is never *^ hea- 
 vy that it cannot hear, nor his arm shortened, that 
 it cannot save.'' While we perform the labours of 
 the day, the Lord is our sun and shield ; and when 
 we lie down at night, we rest secure under his guar- 
 dian care, for the watchman of Israel never slum- 
 bers nor sleeps. He presides over the tumults, and 
 defends from the dangers of the populous city : nor 
 is the obscure inhabitant of the sequestered cottage 
 deprived of his presence. Whether we travel the 
 public road, or roam through the pathless desert, 
 the eyes of God are equally upon us, and we are 
 continually attended by the angel of his providence. 
 Among the many incidents of human life, it may 
 happen to be one, that we shall be removed from all 
 our earthly friends ; and, overtaken by calamity, 
 can find none to whom we can make known our ne- 
 cessities, or from whom we can expect relief; but, 
 no change of place or circumstances, deprives us of 
 the notice and protection of God. He is never far 
 from every one of us, for "in him we live and move, 
 and have our being." The tear that falls in secret, 
 and the sigh which heaves the bosom of the solitary 
 mourner, are noticed by him who is every where 
 present. If we should " take the wings of the- morn- 
 ing and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even 
 there would his hand lead us, and his right hand 
 upliold us." In short, whatever we do, or whither- 
 soever we go, we are under the notice and protection 
 of the Ruler of the Universe ; and in this sense we 
 
 4 
 
26 ON THE GOVERNMENT 
 
 may say in the consolatory language of the Psal- 
 mist, " O ! Lord, I am continually with thee." 
 Nor is the sense of the Divine administration a sup- 
 port and comfort to the mind, in the different stages 
 of life only, hut also, in the hour of our final disso- 
 lution. Life and death are equally in his hand. 
 The same staff", which conducts through the former, 
 supports us also in the latter. He, who ruleth in 
 the Heavens, is as much present with us at the close 
 of life, as at our entrance upon it, or our progress 
 through it. Hence the consolation of the Psalmist : 
 " Though 1 walk through the valley of the shadow 
 of death, yet will I fear no evil, for thou art with 
 me." 
 
 6. I shall only mention once more, that it is a 
 ground of rejoicing in the government of God, that 
 he ever livetli. If it be a happiness to be under the 
 Divine government at all, it must be no small conso- 
 lation that it endureth for ever. In the fluctuating 
 state of human things, if we are contented and plea- 
 sed with the administration of an earthly ruler, we 
 anticipate with pain the period of his dissolution ; 
 when he must resign his authority and leave us to a 
 precarious dependence on the whim, perhaps, or on 
 the weakness of his successor. Let the righteous 
 then rejoice in the Lord, " for his kingdom ruleth 
 over all; for, he will guide them by his counsel 
 while they live, and afterwards receive them to 
 glory." 
 
 Let us now consider what improvement is to be 
 made of this subject. Various are the reflections 
 which it suggests ; but that 1 may come to a conclu- 
 sion, I shall content myself with one. 
 
OF GOD. 27 
 
 If the Lortl reigneth, we may learn on our part, 
 the great importance and the indispensable necessi- 
 ty of piety and virtue. It is the exercise of these 
 only, that can warrant us to expect his protection 
 or his favour. Without a consciousness of our own 
 integrity, how can we trust in God ? His mercy 
 will encourage the penitent ; his power uphold the 
 upright, and his justice reward tlie faithful ; but, he 
 will by no means clear the guilty. 
 
 If our own hearts condemn us not, we may have 
 confidence towards God ; but, to this a sense of 
 guilt, unaccompanied by repentance towards God, 
 and faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, must always 
 prove an insuperable barrier. Let us, then, think 
 upon our ways, and turn our feet to the testimonies 
 of God. Let us apply to the blood of sprinkling, 
 that our consciences may be cleansed from dead 
 works. Let us keep our hearts with all diligence. 
 Let our conversation be as it becometh the Gospel 
 of Christ ; that, instead of trembling because a righ- 
 teous God reigns over us, we may rejoice in his go- 
 vernment, now and forever. 
 
28 ON THE CONDESCENSION 
 
 ON THE CONDESCENSION OF GOD. 
 
 " What is man, that thou art mindful of him 7 And 
 the son of man, that thou visitest him ?" 
 
 Psalms, 8th chap. 4th verse. 
 
 It was a survey of the creation, displayed before 
 the eyes of the Psalmist, that drew from him the ex- 
 clamation in the text. At the time, without doubt, 
 a consciousness of his own insignificancy and un- 
 worthiness, combined with the splendour and mag- 
 nifi.cence of the scene he was contemplating, to fill 
 his mind with wonder. ^^ When I consider," says 
 he, " thy Heavens, the work of thy fingers ; the 
 moon and the stars which thou liast ordained, what 
 is man, that thou art mindful of him ? And the son 
 of man, that thou visitest him V 
 
 When he considered the structure of the Heavens 
 in all their order and beauty, and all their appen- 
 dages ; the dazzling sun, the silver moon, and all 
 the twinkling stars of light, he could speak of them 
 with less emotion ; because, nothing less could be 
 expected as a manifestation of the power and wisdom 
 of the Great Architect of Heaven and Earth. Ac- 
 cordingly, in the 19th Psalm, he speaks of them in 
 all the composure of a devout philosopher : ^^ The 
 Heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament 
 sheweth his handy work. Day unto day uttereth 
 speech, and night unto night sheweth knowledge. 
 There is no speech nor language, where their voice 
 is not heard. Their line is gone out through all 
 
OF GOD. 29 
 
 the earth, and their words to the end of the world. 
 In them hath he set a tabernacle for the sun/*' But, 
 when he comes to consider for whom all these splen- 
 did preparations were made ; for whose use they 
 were intended and continued, then, as might well 
 be expected, he is lost in astonishment. Can it be, 
 that all these were intended for the accommodation 
 of man ! If, with the Psalmist, we take a survey 
 of the visible works of God, and bear in mind, while 
 we are doing so, for whose use they were designed, 
 and to whose accommodation they were all adapted, 
 we shall find reason, and feel a disposition, it is 
 hoped, to join with him also, in his strains of admi- 
 ration. To this, the subject naturally conducts us. 
 The survey, however, shall be a brief one ; because, 
 for one reason, the theme is inexhaustible ; but, 
 chiefly because, however stupendous and splendid 
 should be the objects that might meet our eyes, we 
 should be called to contemplate in the history of 
 man, more wonderful things done for him, by his 
 gracious Creator, than the earth, or sea, or air, or 
 sun, or moon, or all the host of Heaven, or all con- 
 joined in one, would be able to exhibit to our aston- 
 ished view. We shall, however, first pursue the 
 train of reflection pointed out to us in the words of 
 the text, and a few of the verses which follow. Be- 
 fore man was formed, we cannot read, but with won- 
 der, tlie grand preparations, and the magnificent 
 mansion which God was making for his reception. 
 In these works, although the Almighty might have 
 spoken them all into existence in an instant, by the 
 word of his power, he was pleased to advance by 
 progressive steps. The angels, who are afterwards 
 
30 ON THE CONDESCENSION 
 
 represented in the gospel, as prying with out- 
 stretched necks into the mysteries of the babe of 
 Bethlehem, we may well suppose, were spectators 
 of the Almighty's works, in the gradual creation of 
 the world, for the residence of man. With won- 
 der, when they saw the earth without form and void, 
 and darkness was upon the face of the deep, they 
 heard the sovereign mandate, and beheld its instan- 
 taneous effect, when God said, " let there be light :" 
 M'hen they saw him dividing the light from the dark- 
 ness, and thus concluding the iirst day's work. And, 
 when at the end of the fifth, they beheld the work 
 completed ; the sun, the moon, the stars, the earth, 
 the sea and the air, all beautifully arranged, and 
 teeming with birds and fish, and flocks and animals 
 of every description, that were calculated for use, 
 how high must have been their anticipation of the 
 purposes for which they were intended ! Behold, 
 they were all prepared for the reception and accom- 
 modation of man. On the sixth day, God said, 
 '^ Let us make man," and he created him in his own 
 image, and gave him the dominion over the fish of 
 the sea, and over the fowls of the air, and over every 
 living thing that moveth upon the earth. The Al- 
 mighty is then represented in Holy writ, as taking 
 a survey of the works of his hand, and pronouncing 
 them all very good. Then the morning stars sang 
 together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy. 
 
 All these grand preparations were made for man, 
 before his introduction into his terrestrial paradise. 
 The sun, the brightest natural image of the great 
 Creator ; the moon, that rules by night ; the earth, 
 that yielded spontaneous fruits and flowers; the 
 
OF GOD. 31 
 
 flocks, that were clestitied to skip on the mountains, 
 or graze in the valley, with all beasts, both tame 
 and fierce ; the birds, that cleave the air or warble 
 in the grove ; all fish, that swim in the sea, from the 
 leviathan to the smallest tribe — in short, all the ani- 
 mal and vegetable kingdoms were, all of them, cre- 
 ated subservient to the use, and subject to the con- 
 trol of man. And what is man ? A creature of yes- 
 terday, whose breath is in his nostrils ; yet, never • 
 theless, by the appointment of God, the mighty mo- 
 narch of the land and of the sea ; the monarch, in 
 short, of all that he surveys. The sun, who like a 
 giant rejoices to run his race, rises but for the re- 
 freshment, and sets but for the repose of man. It 
 enlightens, warms and invigorates him, through all 
 the business of the day; and when it is time to rest, 
 behold, he retires ; the evening shades prevail, the 
 curtains of the night are drawn around him, and all 
 nature is hushed to silence, that nothing might in- 
 terrupt the slumbers of this great lord of all things 
 here below. For him, the forests tower ; for him, 
 the mountains rise ; for him, the valleys sink ; for 
 him, the fertilizing and refreshing shower descends; 
 for him, the meadows are perfumed with flowers ; 
 for him, the garden blooms ; for him, are the blos- 
 soms of spring, the shade of summer, and the fruits 
 of autumn ; for him, the whole earth was created to 
 yield her increase. 
 
 Having exhibited man principally as lord of this 
 lower world, we will now consider him with respect 
 to the moral qualities and the intellectual powers 
 with which he was endued at his creation, his pre- 
 sent state, and future prospects. Could we draw 
 
32 ON THE CONDESCENSION 
 
 ail adequate description of man in these parts of bis 
 character, we should exhibit a picture which woubl 
 produce very different emotions ; a portrait well cal- 
 culated to excite our wonder, our regret, our grati- 
 tude and our praise. 
 
 From the present state of man, it is difficult to con- 
 jecture, and impossible to ascertain exactly, what he 
 originally was; because, our powers, enfeebled by 
 the fall, are inadequate to describe in full, what we 
 are capable of realizing only in part. Yet, as from 
 the fragments of a ruined palace we may behold the 
 vestiges of its original grandeur, so from what re- 
 mains of the faculties of reason, the powers of geni- 
 us and the hopes of immortality, we may form some 
 faint conceptions of primeval man. From the w ord 
 of God, however, we learn, that he held an exalted 
 rank in the scale of his works, capable of conversing 
 with angels, and made but a little lower than they ; 
 nay, capable of maintaining a familiar and holy in- 
 tercourse with Him who created them all. Like 
 the second Adam, the great restorer, the first, also, 
 when he came from the hands of his Maker, was 
 without sin ; he was pure and undefiled. When 
 the rest of the works of creation were completed, 
 and God was about to create man, as if omnipotence 
 required aid, or infinite wisdom lacked counsel, he 
 is represented in his word as calling a council in 
 Heaven on the occasion : " And God said, let us 
 make man in our image, after our likeness ; and 
 let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, 
 and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and 
 over all the earth, and over every creeping thing 
 that creepeth upon the earth. So God created man 
 
OF GOD. 33 
 
 in his image, in the image of God created he him ; 
 male and female created he them. And God blessed 
 them ; and God said unto them, be fruitful and mul- 
 tiply and replenish the earth and subdue it, and have 
 dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the 
 fowl of the air, and over every living thing that 
 moveth upon sthe earth." And forthwith, to con- 
 fer an honor upon Adam, and vest him with this 
 sovereignty, God was pleased to cause every fowl 
 of the air, and every beast of the field to pass in re- 
 view before him, " to see what he would call them ; 
 and whatsoever Adam called every living creature, 
 that was the name thereof;" Gen. 2, 19. Thus 
 was man created in the image of God, in dignity and 
 honor, in righteousness and holiness, with dominion 
 over the creatures. O, highly honored ! 0, happy 
 human pair ! In paradise they walked with God, 
 and held delightful communion Avith him, entirely 
 conformed to his image. Man was not reduced to 
 the necessity of earning his bread by the sweat of his 
 brow; briars and thorns did not then infest the 
 ground : but, while the earth produced for man 
 spontaneous fruits and flowers ; all that was plea- 
 sant to the eye and savoury to the taste, he employ- 
 ed the exalted capacities of the enraptured soul, in 
 contemplating the glorious perfections of his Maker, 
 in celebrating the riches of his grace, and admiring 
 the beauty of his holiness. These, indeed, were 
 gladsome times ; then did peace and happiness 
 abound on earth. Concord and harmony subsisted 
 amongst all the works of God. Then did "the 
 wolf dwell with the lamb, and the leopard lie down 
 Avith the kid ; and the calf and the young lion, and 
 
 .5 
 
34 ON THE CONDESCENSION OF GOD. 
 
 the fatting together;" Isaiah, 11, 6. Then was 
 n.0 danger to be apprehended from the asp, nor from 
 the cockatrice's den. Bat, above all, the supreme 
 love of God filled and transported the heart, and 
 holy ajffections of God's intelligent creature, man ; 
 and no human passion excited any other emotions 
 than those of wonder, gratitude and praise. 
 
 This will be, in some measure, the state of things 
 again, in the reign of the Redeemer, who will bring 
 in an everlasting righteousness, and cause religion 
 to dwell on earth once more. 
 
 In the mean time, alas, a most distressing reverse 
 of things presents itself to our view, in the history 
 and state of man. Who could suppose, that in the 
 midst of all the unspeakable happiness which he 
 enjoyed, and the bright prospects and promises that 
 were placed before him, he w^ould ever have with- 
 drawn his allegiance from his Maker ?* 
 
 * The manuscript of this sermon is incomplete. It was 
 manifestly the author's intention, wliich he executed in de- 
 livering the sermon, to describe the fallen state of man and 
 its consequences, as illustrative of the condescension and 
 compassion of God, in bestowing on him, not only the bles- 
 sings of this life, but of salvation through Jesus Christ. 
 
THE REMEMBRANCE OF GOD. 35 
 
 THE REMEMBRANCE OF GOD. 
 
 '' Remember now thy Creator^ in the days of thy 
 youthJ^ 
 
 Eccles. 12th chap. 1st verse. 
 
 When we consider the nature of God, and the 
 condition of man, we find from the comparison, that 
 the happiness of the latter was the design of his 
 creation. He who inhabits eternity and the praises 
 thereof; who is completely blessed in the enjoyment 
 and contemplation of his own perfections, cannot be 
 supposed to have derived his happiness from the 
 creature which he made ; and he whose darling at- 
 tribute is mercy, and whose goodness is over all his 
 works, could have no other view in bringing thou- 
 sands into existence, than the advancement of his 
 declarative glory in the happiness of his creatures. 
 The different orders of God's creation are calculated 
 for different degrees and different kinds of happi- 
 ness. The desires of the inferior orders are satis- 
 fied by temporal enjoyments, and circumscribed by 
 the narrow bounds of time. But, man seems calcu- 
 lated for more refined enjoyments than mere sensual 
 pleasures, and has more extensive desires than can 
 be satisfied by the perishable objects of time and 
 sense. His rational nature is not satisfied witli 
 bare meat and drink ; but, whilst animal nature is 
 supported by them, his soul must feed on intellectu- 
 al pleasures, or otherwise he is not happy. He as- 
 
36 THE REMEMBRANCE 
 
 pires to tilings more refined than material substance, 
 and more lasting than time. In a word, he is des- 
 tined to immortality, and this instruction seems en- 
 graven on his nature, as well as inculcated in his 
 catechism, *' that the chief end of man is to glorif;^ 
 God and enjoy him forever." 
 
 This being the case., it is evident, that man has 
 more noble employments in the practice of his duty, 
 and more reiined pleasures, as the object of his 
 pursuits, than the inferior orders of the works of 
 God : not to insist on the exalted nature of his in- 
 tellectual powers, the very time and manner of his 
 creation denote his superior eminence. For, after 
 the Almighty Creator had, as it were with a word, 
 spoken all other creatures into existence, when he 
 w as about to create the Lord of his lower world, 
 whom he intended to endue with reason, and to 
 make in his own image and likeness, as if it were a 
 work of too much importance for infinite wisdom to 
 contrive mthout deliberation, he said, *' Come, let 
 us make man." The human race is not a tumultu- 
 ous and unthouglit-of work ; they were designed 
 for eternal existence, and created with powers suit- 
 ed to the final end of their destination. Surely, 
 then, man should be more rational in his conduct, 
 and more aspiring in his pursuits, than the irration- 
 al creatures ; as he has, by nature, a more excellent 
 inheritance than they. He alone is endued with 
 reason, and made capable of knowing and remem- 
 bering his Creator. But, alas, it is hard to say, 
 whether he is more distinguished by his privileges, 
 than he has distinguislied himself by the mis-im- 
 provement of them. He only, of all the works of 
 
OF GOD. 37 
 
 God on earth, lias not answered the end of his creation. 
 By nature he is but a little lower than the angels, and 
 by practice but a little higher than the irrational 
 herd. How strange and unaccountable a being is 
 man ! How high ! How low ! How noble ; yet 
 how mean ! At once almost a God and brute. 
 Through the allurements of present objects, he be- 
 comes entirely engaged in the pursuit of temporal, 
 perishable things, and mistakes his principal inter- 
 ests, the eternal interests of his soul. He lives, as 
 if this were his ultimate place of residence, and as 
 if he were not destined to eternity, and were not cal- 
 culated for purer enjoyments beyond the grave. In- 
 stead of engaging in the earnest pursuit of those ration- 
 al pleasures, for which men by nature were intend- 
 ed, they are wholly given up to the gratification 
 of sensual appetites, temporal honors or emoluments. 
 The volnptuous place their happiness in pampering 
 the body ; which, instead of being the source of 
 health and happiness, is generally the source of 
 disease and misery. They forget, that the body is 
 the less noble part of man ; that it is fast hastening 
 to decay, and that the more, by the very pains they 
 take in nursing it ; and that at best they only render 
 it a richer prey to worms. Surely God has endu- 
 ed men with reason in vain, if they only employ it 
 in pursuit of enjoyments which are common to tiiem 
 with the brutes, and in which it is probable the 
 brutes surpass them. The ambitious climb the 
 steep ascent of honor, not considering that it is but 
 an imaginary bubble, that depends upon another's 
 breath, easily lost and hard of acquisition, and that 
 they only fall the lower, in proportion to the height 
 
38 THE REMEMBRANCE 
 
 to which they ascended. Others, more irrational still, 
 lay claim to happiness in rioting and dissipation, 
 M'hich they call pleasures. How eager are they in 
 the pursuit of intemperance and disease ! Prepos- 
 terously they pervert the order of nature, and waste 
 the season which indulgent Heaven allotted for the 
 repose of man, in scenes of wickedness. View 
 these votaries of pleasure arising in the morning 
 from the vigils of the card-table, morose and peevisli 
 for the loss of money or the want of rest. What 
 horrid spectacles will you then behold ! What 
 meagre faces ! What hollow eyes and ghastly 
 looks ! The countenance as pale and lifeless, as if 
 they had just risen from the grave. Unable to dis- 
 charge the most ordinary functions of life, they shut 
 their lifeless eyes upon the sun ; go with the plea- 
 surable owls to bed, and as they had misspent the 
 night, they also waste the day in sleep. And is 
 this the happiness of a rational creature ? 
 
 It is only God, and the things of religion, that 
 are a competent portion for the soul, the better part 
 of man, and unless to these objects we direct our 
 aim, we shall forever lose the happiness to which 
 our natures are adapted. Try all the arts of the 
 world in the prosecution of artificial happiness, and 
 you will iind them fruitless, because they are unna- 
 tural. We may pronounce upon them all, in the 
 judgment of the preacher, " vanity of vanities, all 
 is vanity." 
 
 Let me recommend to you, then, the opinion of 
 the wise man, who knew the full value of human 
 enjoyments : " Fear God and keep his command- 
 ments, for this is the whole duty of man ;" that is? 
 
OF GOD. 39 
 
 the whole duty, and the whole happiness of man. 
 Similar to this, is the direction given in the text : 
 '' Remember thy Creator in the days of thy youth." 
 
 In the further prosecution of this subject, I shall 
 endeavour, in the first place, to explain what it is 
 to remember our Creator. 
 
 In the second place, to enforce the obligations we 
 are under to remember God ; and 
 
 In the third place, to consider the propriety of 
 beginning this work in the days of our youth, as 
 the most favourable season of our lives. 
 
 It is very common in the sacred Scriptures, to see 
 single, comprehensive expressions used to denote the 
 substance of religion ; such as faith, wisdom, the 
 fear of the Lord, and the knowledge of the Holy. 
 
 More particularly to remember our Creator, is, 
 in the first place, to have a habitual sense impres- 
 sed on our minds, of the nature, perfections and om- 
 nipresence of God, and of our relation to, and de- 
 pendance upon Him. Necessarily connected with 
 these reflections, is the performance of the duties 
 which we owe to him, as our Creator, Preserver, 
 Benefactor, Redeemer. 
 
 The impression of the greatness and majesty of 
 God, will fill us with becoming awe and adoration, 
 and the sense of his goodness will excite our love 
 and gratitude. To remember God, is, in a woril to 
 acknowledge him in all our ways, and to pay our 
 homage and adoration to him. It is for want of this 
 remembrance, that mankind, in general, are so care- 
 less and unguarded in their conduct. Did they en- 
 deavor to entertain just notions of God, of his pu- 
 rity and holiness, and of his omniscience and omni- 
 
40 THE REMEMBRANCE 
 
 presence; if they considered that he was, as it wercy 
 an eye witness of all their actions, and that he was 
 of purer eyes than to hehold iniquity, and would . 
 bring them to a severe account, they surely would 
 not dare to sin. It is the glory and happiness of 
 man^ that he is capable of knowing his Creator, 
 The irrational creatures know him not; they are, 
 indeed, sustained by the common bounties of his 
 providence, and are, as well as men, the constant 
 beneficiaries of his goodness ; but they are not capa- 
 ble of looking up to the author of their mercies, and 
 not knowing to whom they are indebted, they feel 
 not those noble and exalted pleasures, which the 
 lively sensations of gratitude afford. The recol- 
 lection of our relation to God, and our dependance 
 on him, will, in another view, point out the duties 
 which also are included in the remembrance of him. 
 Is he our Maker? We will then ol)ey him. Is he 
 our Father ? We will love and fear him. Is he 
 our Benefactor? We will be grateful to him. Is 
 he our Redeemer? We will confide in him, and 
 devote ourselves to him. 
 
 This leads me, in the second place, to enforce our 
 obligations to remember God. 
 
 Nothing, certainly, more naturally points out ob- 
 ligation, than the idea of Creator. We are his, for 
 he has made us, and not we ourselves. He chal- 
 lenges an especial propriety in us, and to him our 
 services are justly due. But, how apt are proud, 
 presumptuous men to forget their Creator, and to 
 contend that they are rather the effect of chance ! 
 The idea of Creator implies obligation, and inferi- 
 ority ; and, in consequence of obligation, they are 
 
OF GOD. 41 
 
 accountable for their actions. But, such is the pride 
 of the heart of man, he is not contented with being 
 the Lord of tlie lower creation, but he wishes, also, 
 to own no superior, in Heaven or Earth. Adam, 
 their stock, aspired to an equality with God, and 
 the corrupted branches seem to have inherited the 
 dreadful contagion. Plunging into the depths of 
 Philosophy, falsely so called, and availing them- 
 selves of all the chicanery of scepticism, they fool- 
 ishly endeavor to account for the formation of the 
 world, and all its inhabitants, by a blind, fortuitous 
 concourse of atoms, drawn together by 1 know not 
 what imaginary impulse. Tliat the system of the 
 world was formed by a concourse of atoms, is strict- 
 ly true; but they proceeded according to a plan de- 
 vised by Infinite wisdom, and carried into execution 
 by Almighty power. If it were not so, it would be 
 diflBcult to say, why we never see a commodious 
 and stately ediiice erected by this unaccountable 
 jumble of atoms. Besides, whence came these 
 atoms, or who created them ? 
 
 The combined order and harmony of God's works, 
 and our security in the world, is another obliga- 
 tion on us, to remember our Creator. It is by his 
 bounty, not only that we were at iirst created, but 
 also, that we are constantly preserved. The same 
 power that first produced the inanimate parts of the 
 creation, still preserves them in their revolutions: 
 and he who first created man, upholds him still in 
 being. Miserable would be our lot, were we to for- 
 get our Creator, or let go our dependance on him. 
 If to blind chance, we ascribed our creation, we 
 should have no security for our continuance in life, 
 
 6 
 
42 THE REMEMBRANCE 
 
 but would be under constant apprehensions, lest 
 another Idind, unlucky chance, should throw into 
 confusion the works of her creation, and crush us 
 in the general wreck. When, therefore, we consi- 
 der our wondrous frame, and view the works of 
 nature, let us, with reverence and adoration, remem- 
 ber our Creator. Alas, it is the consciousness of 
 guilt that compels men to deny God, and in order 
 to avoid the consequences that would follow, if 
 they acknowledged hira, and to allay the terrors of 
 a future judgment, they endeavor to argue, or rather, 
 to stupify themselves into the absurd belief, that all 
 things come by chance, until at length '* the fool 
 hath said, in his heart, there is no God." But, 
 is the sluggard to learn a lesson from the industri- 
 ous ant ? So let those who refuse to remember their 
 Creator, learn instruction from the most stupid and 
 slu2:2:ish of the irrational herd. "The ox knows 
 his owner, and the ass his master's crib, but Israel 
 doth not know, my people do not consider.'' 
 
 Again, if the idea of God as our Creator, is not 
 a suflBcient obligation to remember him, let us then 
 try the force of gratitude, while we consider him as 
 our bountiful benefactor. Had he created us only 
 to make us wretched, and to answer cruel purposes 
 by our slavish subjection, the bare idea of Crea- 
 tor, might perhaps, fail to impress us. But, for 
 our own happiness did he create us ; by his kind 
 providence he upholds us in life, and he daily feeds 
 us with his loving kindness. He clothes the lilly 
 of the valley and feeds the young ravens Avhen they 
 cry; and particularly he is ever mindful of the 
 children of men ; he feeds and clothes, and gives us 
 
OF GOD. 43 
 
 * 
 
 all things richly to enjoy. He is good, and does 
 good continually, making his sun to shine and the 
 rain to fall upon the evil and upon the good. The 
 husbandman commits his seed into the furrow, but 
 it is God that giveth the increase. He gives us rain 
 from Heaven and fruitful seasons, filling our hearts 
 with joy and gladness. He graciously brings forth 
 the fruits of the earth, and in due time, blesses us 
 with a plenteous harvest, abundantly providing for 
 man and beast; and surely when his people eat, 
 they should not forget him. With his helping hand, 
 he is ever near us to supply our wants. Verily, my 
 brethren, " he is not far from every one of us, for in 
 him we live and move and have our being." 
 
 There is no living creature who has not experi- 
 enced the sweetest emanations from this benign and 
 blessed fountain. The guardian angel of his provi- 
 dence, is ever nigh us to direct our steps, and de- 
 liver us from troubles aud impending danger. When 
 our enemies invade us, with his own right hand he 
 repels the blow and gives us peace ; making us to 
 sit down under our own vines and our own fig trees, 
 having none to make us afraid ; he turns tlie swords 
 into plough-shares, and spears into pruning-hooks. 
 The people of this land, my brethren, have the 
 greatest reason to remember God, who pleaded their 
 cause against their powerful enemies. With a lit- 
 tle variation, we may thankfully adopt the praises 
 of the Psalmist, ^^ If it had not been the Lord, who 
 was on our side," may America now say, '* If it had 
 not been the Lord, wlio was on our side when men 
 rose up against us, tlien they had swallowed us up 
 (pjickly, when their wrath was kindled against us." 
 
44 THE REMEMBRANCE 
 
 Did the children of Israel look back to the twelve 
 stones which Joshua erected as a monument of the 
 goodness of (jod, in conducting them safely through 
 the river Jordan ? So let us, also, look back to 
 the right hand of God, which fought our battles in 
 the late oppressive war, and conducted us safely 
 through a sea of blood, to the land of peace and 
 freedom. Shall we, then, not remember God, who 
 has done so great things for us ? Surely we will 
 make mention of his goodness. O ! clap your hands 
 together and sing praises, all ye people. But, why 
 enumerate particular obligations ? Our whole lives 
 are the monuments of the goodness of our Creator. 
 Young and old have reason to remember him. 
 Young men and maidens ! Remember him who 
 made you his care in your helpless infancy, and 
 guides you through the slippery paths of youth. 
 Old men and matrons ! Look back to that gra- 
 cious hand that has supported you from the very 
 womb ; whose good providence has followed you 
 through every period of your lives ; has given you 
 the honor of a hoary head, and is still the staif of 
 your old age. Every day we have fresh cause to 
 remember our Creator ; he is ever multiplying his 
 mercies, though, alas ! we are too unthankful ; he is 
 daily increasing our obligations to him for his good- 
 ness, and has engraven, as it were, on all our enjoy- 
 ments, the most affecting mementoes. 
 
 Once more ; we are not only under obligations, 
 gratefully to remember our Creator for the bounties 
 of his providence, but more particularly for the espe- 
 cial blessings of his grace, and the hopes of ever- 
 lasting salvation through Jesus Christ. God, in 
 
OF GOD. 45 
 
 his gracious providence, bad provided for man be- 
 fore be made bim. He settled bim in tbe beautiful 
 garden of Eden, wbere be found all tbings ready to 
 his band and appropriated to bis use. He honored 
 him with tbe title and rank of Lord of tbe Creation ; 
 and tbe Earth, of her own accord, produced all 
 things for hiui. But, even in this deliglitful situa- 
 tion, be abused the goodness of God, and lifted up 
 his heel against tbe band that made bim, and loaded 
 him with kindnesses and tender mercies. But, so 
 merciful was our Creator, that be did not destroy 
 man, as in justice be might, but still bad mercy on 
 tbe work of bis bands. His soul, which bore tbe 
 moral image of its Creator, was precious in bis 
 sight, and be provided for its recovery through Je- 
 sus Christ. Thus, to tbe bounties of his providence, 
 he added the last and most costly gift of his own 
 dear Son. Surely, then, that love requires the most 
 grateful remembrance, which moved God to pay so 
 great a price for our salvation. Had all nature 
 smoked on tbe altar of Heaven, in atonement for 
 the sin of man, it would have been nothing to tbe 
 costly blood of the eternal Son of God. Surely that 
 Saviour deserves our warmest love, who, for our 
 sakes, left the bosom of bis Father and all the joys 
 of Heaven, to take upon himself tbe burden of our 
 sins, and die upon the cross, that he might purchase 
 life for us. Surely he must be lost to every sense 
 of gratitude and every tender feeling, who could for- 
 get such boundless love. What were we, or what 
 our fathers before us, that God should do such great 
 things for us ? Had one of our fellow-men done us 
 essential service, we should be accounted vile, did 
 
46 THE REMEMBRANCE 
 
 we not endeavour to make some compensation. But, 
 the grateful remembrance of his favours, is all 
 tlie return we can make to the Almighty ; it is 
 all that he requires, and surely we should not be 
 deficient in that. The sufferings of our innocent 
 Siiviour, borne on our account, call for our remem- 
 brance. Look back to the agonies of Gethsemane's 
 garden, where he sweated great drops of blood. 
 Follow him to Calvary, and view him toiling up the 
 hill with the weight of his cross upon him ; think 
 what he suffered when his God forsook him ; think 
 what lie suffered when they nailed him to the ac- 
 cursed tree, and his precious side was pierced with 
 the spear ; then see salvation streaming from every 
 vein, for the sake of guilty men. Was it not ama- 
 zing pity ? Was it not love beyond degree, that in- 
 duced our blessed Jesus to endure all this ? Surely, 
 then, we must ever hold him in the most grateful 
 and affectionate remembrance. Surely, if we have 
 tears to shed, we must shed them here ; if we are 
 capable of the sense of gratitude, this spectacle 
 must call it forth. 
 
 The bloody garment of Julius Caesar, who was 
 stabbed iu the Senate house, kindled afresh the re- 
 membrance of his friends, and called forth all their 
 pity. But, what is the blood of a desperate man, to 
 the costly blood of the Sou of God ? Turn your 
 eyes to that sad spectacle which we just contempla- 
 ted on Calvary's hill. Who is this that cometh 
 from Edom with garments rolled in blood ? It is 
 Christ the Lord. See in his side the stab that was 
 given by the accursed spear, and mark how the 
 blood of Jesus follows it. And whence, my breth- 
 
OP GOD, 47 
 
 reii, are all these sufferings ? Let us ever remember it 
 with heartfelt gratitude ; let us call forth all the 
 powers of our souls, to bless and magnify the Lord ; 
 it was for the sake of guilty men. 
 
 The benefits which we derive from the sufferinsrs 
 of our blessed Lord, also call loudly for our grate- 
 ful remembrance. These are no other than Heaven 
 and everlasting happiness. He has obtained a com- 
 plete victory for us over death, the last and great- 
 est enemy of our souls. As he formerly divided 
 the' floods of Jordan for his chosen people to pass 
 through to the promised land, so does he also, by his 
 
 grace, divide the swelling floods of that cold Jordan 
 which separates between the world of misery and the 
 Heavenly Canaan, and opens a passage to the pro- 
 mised land of everlasting rest. 
 
 I proceed now, in the last place, to consider, in a 
 few words, the propriety of remembering our Crea- 
 tor, or begiuning the duties of religion in the days 
 of our youth. 
 
 It has ever been remarked, that youth is the most 
 favorable period for qualifying ourselves, to sustain, 
 with ease and dignity, the offices of future life : what- 
 ever be the occupations which we are to follow, and 
 whatever the character we are to sustain, we must 
 be trained to them while the mind is pliant. The 
 oak is not easily bent, after it has grown stubborn 
 with age ; but in whatever direction we would have 
 the tree to grow, we must bend it in the twig. Thus 
 is youth a favorable season, in which to form the 
 mind to religion : it then is young and tender, easily 
 susceptible of Divine impressions : it has not yet 
 been infected with the vices of the world, nor ren- 
 
48 THE REMEMBRANCE 
 
 tiered obstinate and inflexible by long habits of sin. 
 If we begin, when young, to regard the things of 
 religion, and practice its duties, it will become easy 
 and desirable, and by custom it will become, as it 
 were, a second nature. With good reason did the 
 •wise man advise to train up a child in the way in 
 wliich he should go, and when he is old, he will not 
 depart from it. 1 am well aware, that religion is 
 represented by a wicked world, as too melancholy 
 a thing to be engaged in, in our youth, and as it is 
 necessary, they allow it a place at some more con- 
 venient season, which convenient season, perhaps 
 never, never comes. Religion is deferred to be the 
 companion of old decre.pid age, or the last refuge of 
 a dying bed : but these are both unfavorable seasons; 
 old age is too lifeless for vigorous exertion, and a 
 death-bed repentance is a fatal delusion, by which 
 thousands have perished. When nature is exhausted 
 by disease, or our bodies racked with excruciating 
 pains and our weeping friends surround our beds, ex- 
 pecting in a few days to follow our breathless corpses 
 to their long home; Avhen the powers of our minds as 
 •well as bodies, are almost worn out; is this a time, 
 think you, to work the great work of our salvation, 
 and make our final peace with God, only because 
 •we can no longer indulge ourselves in sin ? 
 
 Besides, what is called a death-bed repentance, 
 is generally delusive and insincere. In the hour of 
 our dissolution, when the soul looks through the 
 veil to the world of spirits : when the consc iousness 
 of guilt, in neglecting God, preys upon our minds, 
 and the awful terrors of the Almighty are unfolding 
 to our view, then, indeed, we liiel compunction of 
 
OP GOD. 49 
 
 heart and a dreadful kind of repentance, but not a 
 repentance which is unto life. It proceeds not from 
 real sorrow on account of sin, but on account of the 
 punishment of it ; not from unfeigned love to God, 
 but from the fear of his wratli and indignation. Alas, 
 we have too many instances of this kind of repen- 
 tance, in those who apparently were drawing near 
 to the gates of death. What earnest supplications 
 did they make to God, that he would not cut them 
 off? What solemn promises did they make, that 
 they would amend their lives, and devote the remain- 
 der of their days to him, if he would be pleased to 
 spare their lives and raise them from the bed of lan- 
 guishing? And, when in his mercy he heard their 
 prayers and restored them again to strength, how 
 soon have they forgotten their promises, and return- 
 ed to their former wicked courses, as the dog to his 
 vomit, or the sow that was washed, to her wallow- 
 ing in the mire ? Let me advise you, trust not to a 
 death- bed repentance. 
 
 And what can be your prospects in putting off tlie 
 care of religion to old age, which is too cold and 
 lifeless to enter warmly into the pursuit of it ? Do 
 you suppose that old age of itself, will inspire reli- 
 gion, or that your propensity to evil will be more 
 easily broken, when you have, as it were, become 
 veterans in sin, and are confirmed in it by long habitu- 
 al custom ? After you have spent your whole life in 
 sin, and have arrived at that period when exhausted 
 nature will no longer afford fuel to your desires • 
 will you then devote the miserable refuse of your 
 days to God? And, have you then reason to be- 
 lieve, that he will accept the offering at your hands, 
 
 7 
 
50 THE REMEMBRANCE OF GOD. 
 
 when you thought your youthful days too good to 
 be spent in his service? He has given us reason to 
 believe the contrary. "Because 1 have called/' 
 says he, " and ye refused ; I have stretched out my 
 hand and no man regarded; but ye have set at naught 
 all my counsel, and would none of my reproof: 
 I, also, will laugh at your calamity, I will mock 
 when your fear cometh : when your fear cometh 
 as desolation, and your destruction cometh as a 
 whirlwind ; when distress and auguish cometh up- 
 on you, then shall you call upon me, but 1 will not 
 answer you ; they shall seek me early, but they shall 
 not find me;" Prov. 1, 24. But, lastly, supposing 
 that old age was the most favourable season for the 
 business of religion, let me ask you what security 
 have you, that you will ever arrive at it? Consult 
 your own observation, and you will find the chance 
 is much against you : it is comparatively but a few 
 who arrive to three score years and ten. What, 
 though your hill seems at present to stand strong, 
 and length of days is promised by your ruddy coun- 
 tenance ? Think not that nothing but old age can 
 cut you off. You are every day exposed to a thou- 
 sand snares, and in the midst of life you are in 
 death. If he, who has the issues of life, only with- 
 holds his supporting hand, or sends forth his com- 
 missio!! to the king of terrors, the stoutest of you, 
 my young friends, w ill fall as easily a prey to death,, 
 as the old boary head, which blossoms for the grave, 
 and already bows to salute his kindred dust. 
 
ON INFIDELITY. 51 
 
 ON INFIDELITY. 
 
 ^^ Take heed, brethren, lest there be in any of you, 
 an evil heart of unbelief in departing from the 
 living God.^^ 
 
 Hebrews, cliap. 3, I2tb verse. 
 
 The connexion which subsists between principle 
 and conduct, gives rise to the requisition of faith, so 
 frequently made in the Gospel, and sufficiently shews 
 its necessity. It is not, I presume, that there is any 
 peculiar merit in the thing itself, but that it is the 
 principle which prompts obedience to the Divine 
 Will. If Abraham obeyed God, it was because he 
 believed the record which God had given. It may 
 also be said of faith, that it not only leads to the per- 
 formance of what is required of us, but that, in a 
 moral sense, it ascertains the character of every ac- 
 tion thus performed. And hence it is said, that 
 without faith, it is impossible to please God. Ac- 
 tions in themselves, are, strictly speaking, I believe, 
 neither good nor bad ; and it is not peculiar to theo- 
 logy, but common to that with every approved sys- 
 tem of human etiiics, that their value should be es- 
 timated by the motives which gave them birth. 
 
 If such be tlie nature and necessity of faith, we 
 need not be surprised at the caution which is given 
 us by the Apostle in the text. 
 
 If faith be necessary, unbelief must be fatal. If 
 without faith it be impossible to please God, the in- 
 
52 ON INFIDELITY. 
 
 fijlcl must perish. Unbelief is assigned in the pas- 
 sage before us, as the reason why, any wlio came 
 out of Egypt by Moses, did never enter, however, 
 on the promised land of rest. On the contrary, we 
 are told, that the carcases of some of them fell in 
 the wilderness. The account which is given of 
 them by the Apostle, together with his comment 
 upon it, is in the following words: "Wherefore I 
 was grieved w ith that generation, and said, They do 
 always err in their heart ; and they have not known 
 my ways. So 1 sware in my wrath, they shall not 
 enter into my rest." 
 
 " But, with whom," says the Apostle, " was he 
 grieved forty years ? Was it not with them that 
 had sinned ; whose carcases fell in the wilderness ? 
 And to whom sware he, that they should not enter 
 into his rest, but to them that believed not ? So 
 we see," says he, »^ that they could not enter in, 
 because of unbelief." 
 
 Thus, on the one hand, we behold faith and obe- 
 dience associated together, and their reward is eter- 
 nal Life ; on the other, infidelity and sin, and their 
 consequence is Death. 
 
 The contrast thus drawn, between these two de- 
 scriptions, has prepared the way, for the execution 
 of my purpose, in the present discourse; which is, 
 in general, to enforce the admonition given us by 
 the Apostle. 
 
 This is an age of general and anxious inquiry in 
 the Christian world. The Scriptures of the old 
 and new Testament, purport to be of sacred autho- 
 rity, and to contain a revelation of the will of God 
 to man. The judgment we pass upon this book, 
 
ON INFIDELITY. 53 
 
 will, no doubt, involve the most important conse- 
 quences. Our final happiness may depend upon 
 our embracing it : and to reject it, may involve us 
 in everlasting ruin. It is not my object now to ex- 
 amine the evidences which accompany it, for this 
 has often been done already, by eminently wise and 
 virtuous men ; but only to submit some considera- 
 tions which should administer caution in the inves- 
 tigation of tlie subject, and also point out the dan- 
 gerous conseqences of a wrong decision. 
 
 1. One consideration which entitles it, on the first 
 appearance, to the highest respect, and the most can- 
 did examination, is the high authority on which it 
 claims our attention. It addresses itself to us, not 
 as tlie word of man, but as the word of God. Every 
 precept which it injoins, and every threat that it de- 
 nounces, is delivered to us under no less a sanction 
 than this : ^* The mouth of the Lord hath spoken 
 it." To reject it, then, upon slight and insufficient 
 reasons ; to contemn its authority and disobey its in- 
 junctions, is to run the dreadful hazard of being 
 ** found fighting against God." It is no less than 
 to say, " Who is the Lord, that he should reign 
 over us?" I by no means intend to insinuate, that 
 the pretensions m hich the Scriptures make to a Di- 
 vine original, are, of themselves, a satisfactory evi- 
 dence that they are genuine. I only insist, at pre- 
 sent, that this circumstance renders them respectable 
 and important to us, and calls for the utmost can- 
 dor and impartiality in determining upon the recep- 
 tion which we shall give them. If we should reject 
 them, without examination, or examining them with 
 prejudice, should reject them without evidence of 
 
54 ON INFIDELITY. 
 
 their falsehood, would not the error of our conduct, 
 and our punishment too, be aggravated by this con- 
 sideration, that God had called, .and we had refused ; 
 that the Lord had spoken, and we would not hear! 
 We treat not thus the edicts of earthly rulers : what- 
 ever comes to us under the sanction of their autho- 
 rity, we receive with respect ; nor do we disown its 
 obligation upon us, until we are convinced by indu- 
 bitable testimony, that it is the fabrication of some 
 impostor. In such case, if any man were to tell us 
 that it was only a cunning fable, contrived for the 
 sole purpose of imposing on our credulity, or per- 
 haps, for something worse, and should advise us to 
 disbelieve it, or to resist its authority, we should 
 think it prudent, 1 imagine, to considei', seriously 
 and impartially, the proofs which he offered ; we 
 would weigh every circumstance; we would see 
 what the edict contained ; we would examine into 
 the character of the man ; we would enquire, whe- 
 ther he himself miglit not be an impostor ; whether 
 he might not have some sinister object himself in 
 view ; and we should think it neither wise nor safe 
 to follow his advice, unless we were thoroughly con- 
 vinced by his arguments. Shall we treat with less 
 respect, then, the higli authority of God ? Shall we 
 hastily reject what comes to us in his name ? A 
 thorough, and even a scrupulous investigation, is not 
 to be condemned. This is the province of our rea- 
 son, and to this we are invited. 
 
 Let us examine the Scriptures, then ; for every 
 principle of duty and interest requires this of us; 
 and let us not reject them, without first deliberating 
 before we conclude ; let us convict before we con- 
 
ON INFIDELITY. 55 
 
 ileum. Let us be able to demonstrate, by the most 
 incontestable documents, that the Scriptures are 
 spurious, and the belief of them a delusion ; and 
 when we have done this, let us reject them. Let us 
 not be so inconsistent, as to disdain the prescriptions 
 of the most high God, and at the same time suffer 
 ourselves to be led blindfold, by those of wicked 
 and designing men. The venerable authority on 
 which they claim to be delivered, demands from us 
 the most reverential attention, and strongly enforces 
 the caution in the text, ^* To take heed, lest there 
 be in any of you, an evil heart of unbelief." 
 
 2. The contents of the sacred Scriptures are of 
 such a nature, as to be highly interesting to us, and, 
 therefore, it is of much moment that we judge right- 
 ly concerning them. They give an account of the ori- 
 ginal rectitude, and the subsequent lapse and aposta- 
 cy of man. They inform us that all are now in- 
 cluded in unbelief; that all flesh have corrupted 
 their ways, and are, of consequence, exposed to the 
 wrath and displeasure of God. They inform us, 
 that He so loved the world as to send his Son to 
 seek and save that which was lost. They proclaim 
 to us through Him, the offers of peace and pardon ; 
 and they declare, that there is no other name given 
 under Heaven, amongst men, whereby we can be 
 saved, but the name of Jesus Christ ; that whoso- 
 ever believeth in Him, shall ha\e everlasting life, 
 and that he who believeth not, shall not see life, but 
 the wrath of God abideth on him. If any thing can 
 command attention, or inspire caution, surely it is 
 that which is contained in the Scriptures. If the 
 statement which they give of the situation of man be 
 
56 ON INFIDELITY. 
 
 true, then it is truly said of the Scriptures, that they 
 contaiu the words of everlasting life. VVIieu we 
 consider tliis, tlie frivolous conceit of a late plagiary 
 infidel, in comparing these with the writings of Ho- 
 mer, must dwindle into insignificance, or sink into 
 contempt. What, if the Grecian poet wrote, or did 
 not write the history of the Trojan war? And 
 what, if the facts which he records be either true or 
 false? What, if we believe them, though they be 
 but fictions ? Or what though we disbelieve them, 
 if they are even true ? It is a matter of the most 
 perfect indifterence. W^e gain nothing on the one 
 hand ; we forfeit nothing on the other. But, ran 
 the same be said of the sacred Scriptures ? Are 
 they only to be considered as works of genius ? If 
 they were, it would, indeed, be of no great importance 
 "whether we gave credit to their authenticity or not. 
 We might content ourselves with admiring the in- 
 imitably sublime description which they give of the 
 lion, the leviathan, and the war-like horse. But, 
 it is not their object to please the fancy, but to save 
 the soul. W^e find in them these very serious 
 words, or words to this effect : ^* Whoso belie veth 
 shall be saved, and he who believeth not shall be 
 damned." 
 
 Suppose, then, for a moment, the Scriptures to be 
 true, and we refuse them credit : suppose that a Sa- 
 viour is provided for us and we reject him : suppose 
 that Jesus Christ is tlie Son of God; that he will 
 one day judge the world in righteousness, and we 
 call him an impostor : the consequence is serious 
 indeed. There is no hope of salvation for us : we 
 must perish. We may so conduct ourselves here, 
 
ON INFIDELITY. 57 
 
 as to be miserable hereafter, if the Scriptures be 
 false ; but, if they be true, and we reject them, we 
 must be undone. 
 
 You will be pleased to bear in mind, that I am 
 not asserting the authenticity of the Scriptures, nor 
 attempting to prove it. 1 leave this to the decision 
 of those, who have not yet decided. But, I think 
 that the considerations which they suggest, are of 
 sufficient importance to invite an inquiry, and to for- 
 bid a hasty judgment. It is possible, that some to 
 whom I am addressing this discourse, may already 
 have taken up an unfavorable opinion. It is possi- 
 ble, too, that they may have taken it up rashly ; 
 thiit they may have never read the Bible, nor the 
 evidences of truth, with which it is attended ? that 
 they may have examined but one side of the ques- 
 tion ; nor, even that thorouglily, but taken it on 
 credit. It is possihle, that most of our modern infi- 
 dels are of this description ; and if so, their conduct is 
 irrational in the extreme. They proudly refuse 
 their assent to truths, that are proved to the satis- 
 faction of every impartial inquirer, and yet impli- 
 citly believe in unbelief itself. They fulfil one part 
 of the Scripture, which they affect so much to de- 
 spise, in straining at a gnat and swallowing a 
 camel. Yet, in this we might be indulged,' if it 
 were not as unsafe as it is irrational. It is certainly 
 most dangerous, if the Scriptures be true; and with- 
 out inquiry, we cannot tell whether they are so or 
 not. And, as they involve considerations so ex- 
 tremely serious, it is both our duty and our interest 
 to give them a fair and thorough examination, and 
 
 8 
 
58 ON IXFTDELITY. 
 
 to take heed lest there be in any of us, an evil heart 
 of unbelief. 
 
 3. There is reason also, for the utmost caution 
 and circumspection, lest in determining upon this 
 subject, we substitute prejudice in the room of con- 
 viction. It is worthy of attention, that the Ajjostle 
 speaks in the text of " an evil heart of unbelief,'' 
 which seems to imply that it is more the depravity 
 of our aflPections, than any defect in our understand- 
 ing, that leads to error. In most instances, per- 
 haps, we are too prone to consult our inclinations 
 in preference to our judgment. We easily yield 
 our assent to w hat we would wish to be true : but 
 it is with the utmost reluctance, that we will be per- 
 suaded to admit unwelcome truths. It is no won- 
 der, then, tliat we should be averse to the Gospel 
 which so universally thwarts and opposes us. No- 
 thing can be more repugnant to the propensities of 
 depraved nature, tiian the purity of its precepts, or 
 the rigor of its restraints. They require of us mor- 
 tification and self-abasement. They stand directly 
 opposed to every inordinate desire, and to all licen- 
 tiousness of manners ; to the designs of injustice, and 
 the projects of ambition ; to every purpose of re- 
 venge, and to all the unruly passions, in short, w hich 
 agitate the human mind. All these claim an in- 
 dulgence which the Gospel denies, and, therefore, 
 it is reasonably to be expected, that they should set 
 themselves in array against it. This is tlie very 
 reason why it is embraced with so little cordiality 
 by many who yet believe it to be true ; who acknow- 
 ledge its authority, but do not relish its precepts. 
 
ON INFIDELITY. 59 
 
 Is there not some cause of suspicion, then, that what 
 we call disbelief, may resolve itself, at last, into 
 nothing more than an ill-judged opposition to its 
 truth? Hence it may be, that we so readily sub- 
 scribe to the blasphemies of infidels. We are plea- 
 sed to hear them revile what we ourselves dislike, 
 and receive them as our prophets, because they ap- 
 pear to be our friends. In more familiar instan- 
 ces, we see that men, when filled with prejudice, 
 will extol a character whom they believe to be base, 
 for the express purpose of traducing whom they 
 know to be innocent. If such malignity, then, be 
 found in the human mind, ought we not, with cau- 
 tion, to listen to the objections which it may rea- 
 sonably be supposed to suggest against the Christian 
 religion ? It must not escape observation, upon this 
 subject, that it represents the heart of man as natu- 
 rally prone to evil. A persuasion of the truth of 
 this assertion, may be derived from other sources, 
 than Divine revelation. We carry tlie evidences 
 of it in our own bosoms : and he who would call 
 it in question, must contradict the testimony of uni- 
 versal experience. It is a difficult matter, then, for 
 men to indulge themselves in the practice of iniquity, 
 as long as they believe the truth of Christianity. A\'e 
 could w ish, therefore, the Scriptures were not true, 
 very falsely calculating, that in that case, we should 
 be released from every unwelcome restraint. Ought 
 we not, in reason, then, to be distrustful of ourselves? 
 Is there no cause to suspect, that on this account 
 alone, we are so disposed to embrace the forlorn 
 hopes of infidelity, and that, in order to spare our 
 lusts, we endeavour to discard our faith ? 
 
60 ON INFIDELITY. 
 
 4. It seems to be an inquiry worth making also, 
 whether our interest does not lie, if it could be done, 
 in exploding the Gospel. I mean, whether our con- 
 duct hitherto has not been stamped with such moral 
 turpitude, as to leave us neither part nor lot, in the 
 promises which it contains, but expose us only to 
 the threatenings it denounces. This is a possible 
 case ; and if it be ours, we are not to be considered 
 as very impartial judges. A good and upright man 
 would wish, at least, the Scriptures might, in the 
 end, prove true ; but the interest of the wicked and 
 licentious lies another way, and therefore, their in- 
 clinations accompany it. They fain would hope 
 the Scriptures are a fiction ; and upon the same prin- 
 ciple, and on equal evidence, " the fool hath said, in 
 his heart, there is no God." We cannot but sus- 
 pect, I think, if we will judge with candor, that there 
 must be something or other wrong in that system, 
 which would place the utmost hopes to which a man 
 could aspire, in total annihilation. It is true, in- 
 deed, that a late infidel has expressed a hope of 
 happiness in a future world ; but his imitative dis- 
 ciples do not seem so sanguine in their expectations, 
 either as to themselves or him ; and, tlierefore, they 
 have added to their creed, that there is no hereafter. 
 In tliia, they are the more consistent of the two ; but, 
 surely, when we have brought ourselves to this pass, 
 it is time to make a pause, and consider, seriously, 
 whether we are not building on a sandy foundation, 
 and whether we may not possibly find, to our loss, 
 that we shall be immortal. 
 
 But, tliat I may not seem, which, indeed, is not 
 my intention, to draw any advantage from the very 
 
ON INFIDELITY, 61 
 
 vulnerable character to which I have just now allu- 
 ded, it is but fair to acknowledge, that there are, 
 also, men of good moral character who think unfa- 
 vorably of the authenticity of the Scriptures. Yet, 
 this is a matter of no moment to those whose duty 
 it is to examine for themselves. If the Scriptures 
 be false, we can only reject them with safety ; that 
 is, without guilt, when we know them to be so : and 
 if they be true, the authority of their opinions will 
 afford us no protection. But, it may be asked, 
 What could induce men of good character to reject 
 the Scriptures, but a conviction, upon sufficient evi- 
 dence, that they are spurious ? To this 1 answer, 
 that the question proceeds from a misconception of 
 the doctrines which are contained in the Gospel. 
 The pride of those who call themselves Philoso- 
 phers, by no means tallies with that humility which 
 is so characteristic of the Christian temper. He 
 who would be wise to salvation, must be clothed 
 with humility, and be contented to sit, like Mary, 
 at the feet of Jesus, and hear his words. You may 
 judge, then, that this would be received as a hard 
 saying by those who are ever wise in their own con- 
 ceit, and that of course, they would be as much dis- 
 posed as any description of men whatever, to dis- 
 credit, or at least to reject, a system of discipline 
 which would so effectually mortify their pride and 
 rob them of all their glory. This is the reason why 
 true knowledge is represented, in Scripture, as hid- 
 den from the wise and prudent, and revealed unto 
 babes. Another consideration is, tliat if the Scrip- 
 tures be true, these men who thus reject them, are to 
 be considered only as persons devoted to destruction. 
 
62 ON INFIDELITY. 
 
 There is an ignominy in punisliment, which always 
 changes pity into contempt for the sufferers. What 
 consideration, more powerfully than this, could ex- 
 cite enmity against the gospel, which denounces such 
 punishment on men, who are too proud to bear the 
 yoke of a crucified Saviour, and too wise to be in- 
 structed in tlie things which belong to their peace. 
 These considerations are suggested, only to caution 
 against the influence of particular names, which 
 have probably made more infidels than all the so- 
 phistical arguments which made infidels of them- 
 selves. 
 
 5. I observe, once more, that in determining upon 
 the credit which we shall give to the Scriptures, we 
 should see to it, that we do not rt^ect them for ob- 
 jections which lie equally against other writings, 
 which we yet receive as genuine ; and that we do 
 not discard them against evidence, equal, or in gene- 
 ral, superior to that on which we admit the genuine- 
 ness and truth of other authorities and institutions. 
 To admit one thing as true, and reject another as 
 false, when the circumstances attending them are 
 precisely similar, is an arbitrary mode of deciding, 
 to AA hich no mati is entitled, and at the same time, 
 such an evidence of prejudice as cannot fail to im- 
 peach the soundness of his judgment, or the integ- 
 rity of his views. If we reject the Scriptures as 
 spurious, from the silly conceit, for instance, that 
 Moses could not have been the author of the books 
 which are ascribed to him, because Moses spoke of 
 himself in the third person, we should consider 
 whether we do not admit the genuineness of other 
 books; under circumstances precisely similar. Ex- 
 
ON INFIDELITY. 63 
 
 amples of this kind are numerous, but one of com- 
 mon notoriety will suffice. The genuineness of Cai- 
 sar's commentaries has never been called in ques- 
 tion. They pass under the name of Caesar, and lie 
 is universally admitted, I believe, to have been the 
 author of them ; and yet, he every where speaks of 
 himself in the third person. It is always " Caesar 
 carried the war into Gaul ; Caesar said, that he 
 would march with the tenth legion.'^ Now, to pro- 
 claim with an air of triumph, that Moses is an im- 
 postor, because, in the writings ascribed to him, he 
 is spoken of in the third person, whilst we admit the 
 genuineness of other writings similarly circumstanced, 
 is to proclaim our own folly. We need not wait to 
 be reproached with insincerity ; we have every rea- 
 son to suspect it of ourselves. Indeed, a man of 
 common liberality would be ashamed of such a piece 
 of criticism on any human composition. And, in an 
 age of reason, properly so called, one would hardly 
 expect to find it admitted against the word of God; 
 but, with some sort of men,* it would seem that 
 impiety and blasphemy can supply, with full effect, 
 the place of argument. 
 
 * Of Thomas Paine's stamp. 
 
64 EXHORTATION AGAINST SIN. 
 
 EXHORTATION AGAINST SIN. 
 
 '^ But exhort one another daily^ while it is called to- 
 day, lest any of you he hardened through the de- 
 ceitfulness of Sin.'^ 
 
 Hebrews, 3d chap. 13th verse. 
 
 It is a very great misfortune attending sin, that 
 whilst it is both odious in its nature, and ruinous in 
 its effects, it is often plausible in its pretensions, and 
 delusive in its appearances. It flatters at the time 
 that it betrays ; it presents an alluring bait, the more 
 effectually to conceal the fatal hook ; it hardens, as it 
 corrupts the heart. On this account, the Apostle's 
 admonition to the Hebrews was given to exhort one 
 another daily. For, the practice of iniquity is so 
 contrary to every just sentiment of what is right, 
 and so destructive of man's best interests, his hap- 
 piness in the world to come, and as I hope to shew, 
 bis peace and comfort in that which now is, that 
 its danger would be inconsiderable, as long as the 
 conscience was tender and susceptible of religious 
 impressions, open to the conviction of what is true, 
 and faithful to the approbation of what is good. 
 The mutual exhortations of Cliristians, are of infi- 
 nite service in this respect, inasmuch as by them, 
 just sentiments of religion are kept alive ; motives 
 to perseverance in duty, are constantly renewed ; 
 temptations to sin are avoided, and its delusions most 
 effectually detected, because they have been prac- 
 tised upon all, and by many completely baffled. 
 
EXHORTATION AGAINST SIN. 65 
 
 By these means, religion is cherished and promot- 
 ed ; sin maintains its dominion only over the callous 
 mind. The tendency of mutual exhortations to pro- 
 mote the purposes intended by them, will be taken 
 first under consideration, in the progress of this dis- 
 course. And, secondly, the danger that must be 
 incurred by the neglect of them, of being hardened 
 through the deceitfulness of sin. 
 
 1. With respect to the first of these propositions, 
 it may be remarked with much truth, I believe, that 
 mankind, taking them in general, have some sense 
 of religious obligation. That we are naturally prone 
 to evil, is indeed a very explicit doctrine of the 
 Scriptures ; but, this doctrine is not inconsistent 
 with the truth of this remark, in the sense in which 
 it is made ; for, wiien men indulge tliemselves in the 
 practice of sin, this will be found, I think, to pro- 
 ceed, not from the conviction of tiie judgment in its 
 favour, but from the want of consideration ; from the 
 impetuosity of passion ; from the arts of seduction, 
 or from the contagion of evil examples ; or, perhaps, 
 more or less, from all. When we are exhorted to 
 remember our Creator in the days of our youth, it is 
 not merely because it is at all times our duty to do 
 it, but because youth is the most favourable season 
 for imbibing the principles, or beginning the prac- 
 tice of religion. The mind is then more pliant and 
 tender ; it is more susceptible of almost any impres- 
 sion ; it may be more easily trained up to virtue, or 
 seduced and allured into the dangerous paths of 
 vice. From hence, then, we may see the high im- 
 portance, and presage the happy eflfects of the sea- 
 sonable and repeated advice and exhortation of reli- 
 
 9 
 
66 EXHORTATION AGAINST SIN. 
 
 gious friends. They encourage to the filial fear and 
 to the reasonable service of God ; tliey represent the 
 evil and the danger of sin ; they guard from that evil 
 communication which corrupts good manners. — 
 Whatsoever things are honest; whatsoever things 
 are true ; whatsoever things are lovely ; whatsoever 
 things are of good report ; if there be any virtue ; if 
 there be any praise, to these they invite them, and they 
 would often succeed, if religious exhortations were as 
 frequent and fashionable as solicitations to sin. 
 From the unhappy influence of wicked companions, 
 and from the p(»wer of the temptations which pro- 
 ficients in vice are ever throwing before the young 
 and unwary, we have often seen that the religious 
 education of early years has been entirely marred, 
 and many a promising youth been allured to his ru- 
 in. If, then, instead of these, religious friends 
 should interfere ; if they should cultivate the morals 
 of youth ; if exhortation to piety were frequently 
 given, we might reasonably expect the most happy 
 effects. Many temptations would be avoided, which, 
 for want of assistance, often prove too strong for the 
 young; or, if not entirely avoided, they would, at 
 least, be counteracted, and every good resolution 
 would be strengthened and encouraged. It is some- 
 times urged, indeed, that religious instruction of 
 every kind, is improper, and that the mind should 
 be left entirely free to choose for itself, whether re- 
 ligion shall be embraced or not. But, these coun- 
 sellors observe not the rule which themselves pre- 
 scribe. On the contrary, there are many appearan- 
 ces of a most unhappy combination amongst wicked 
 men, to engage as many as possible in the same de- 
 
EXHORTATION AGAINST SIN. 67 
 
 structive courses which themselves pursue. None 
 shall be permitted to consult the dictates of their 
 own reason and judgment, or to practice the duties 
 of a religious life, if any exertion of theirs can pre- 
 vent it. They constantly spread before them the 
 delusive charms of vice, and represent any attention 
 to religion, and every sentiment of virtue, as the pre- 
 judice of education, or as a mark of a weak and 
 timid mind. That they unhappily succeed in this, 
 the present Age of Reason,* as it is called, is an 
 ample proof. But, in this, I trust, they could not 
 succeed, if those who fear God were as active and 
 zealous in recommending the pure and holy religion 
 of Jesus Christ, and conducting others into the paths 
 of pleasantness and peace. Religion would then 
 gain ground, and vice and infidelity, so generally 
 companions, would hide their heads. 
 
 2. Again, the religious exhortations of Christians 
 would not only have a tendency to dissuade others 
 from entering upon evil courses, but, also, to reclaim 
 tliose from them who had been seduced into them. 
 The commands of God carry with them an awful 
 sanction ; not only in the rewards which are pro- 
 mised to the obedient, and the denunciation of his 
 displeasure against those who do wickedly, but also^ 
 in the testimony of a man's own heart, and those 
 severe compunctions of conscience by which a de- 
 parture from duty is either accompanied, or very 
 shortly succeeded. This, in all probability, is al- 
 ways the case, in the first deviation into the paths 
 
 ■ Preached after the publication of Thomas Paine's Age 
 of Reason. 
 
68 EXHORTATION AGAINST SIN. 
 
 of sin. At such a juncture, then, when the influence 
 of a better education is not entirely lost, ami when 
 the heart is sorely wounded by a sense of guilt, the 
 affectionate remonstrances and the tender persua- 
 sions of a religious friend^ would be seasonable, in- 
 deed, in all probability welcome; and in that case, 
 might be productive of the happiest consequences. 
 The tenderness of rebuke, accompanied, as it would 
 be, by the sincerest expressions of regard ; the evil 
 of sin clearly represented, and at the same time the 
 goodness of God, and his willingness to forgive, 
 brought into view, would be likely to have the most 
 powerful influence on the ingenuous mind. Such 
 considerations proposed to the tender heart, could 
 scarcely fail, one would think, so far as means are 
 concerned, to draw forth* the most undissembled 
 tears of contrition ; exciting at the same time, the 
 most determined resolution to return to God, and a 
 lively hope of acceptance through Jesus Christ. The 
 short experience he has had of the reproaches of a 
 guilty conscience, aided by the advice and encourage- 
 ment of Godly men, would prove to him a very use- 
 ful lesson, and set him more upon his guard against 
 seduction to sin, than he had been before. But, if 
 he be deserted by his friends ; if he be left alone to 
 endure the pangs of a wounded spirit, which no man 
 can long bear, he will probably be disposed to seek 
 relief some other way. He will be exposed to the 
 danger of falling into the hands of greater proficients 
 in vice than himself, who will not fail to play the 
 most seducing arts to encourage him to dispel his 
 squeamish fears by mirth and wine, and allure him 
 through the enchanted circle of unlawful pleasures, 
 
EXHORTATION AGAINST SIN. 69 
 
 until his conscience sliall become callous and effec- 
 tually hardened, througli the deceitfulness of sin. 
 By such wicked arts, have thousands been brought 
 to ruin. If religious men were half so industrious, 
 might not many be saved ? Let them hearken, in 
 the mean time, to the affectionate advice of Solomon : 
 *^ My son, if sinners entice thee, consent thou not." 
 3. The mutual exhortations uf religious men are 
 of great advantage to themselves, inasmuch as they 
 respect the most important objects, and propose to 
 their ambition the highest honors and the most re- 
 fined and exalted pleasures. Religion, like every 
 other attainment, requires care and cultivation. — 
 Converse with the world, and an attention to the 
 necessary demands of the present life, together with 
 a becoming deference to tlie opinions and sentiments 
 of others, are apt, generally, to produce a conformi- 
 ty to their principles and maxims. If these, then, 
 as is too much the case in the present day, happen 
 to savor but little or nothing of the spirit of religion, 
 it will, in all probability, decay. There is a con- 
 tagion in example, whether it be good or bad, with 
 which we become infected before we are aware : it 
 insensibly creeps upon us : by degrees we insensi- 
 bly imbibe the principles and become assimilated to 
 the manners of those with whom we converse. It 
 is, therefore, of much importance, and of the great- 
 est use, that those who profess the religion of Christ, 
 and are solicitous to work out their salvation, should 
 be guarded at this point ; that they should maintain 
 communion together; that they should exhort one 
 another to walk worthily of the high vocation where- 
 with they are called ; that motives to constancy and 
 
70 EXHORTATION AGAINST SIN. 
 
 perseverance should be proposed, and mutual assist- 
 ance given. These considerations will apjiear to be 
 of the greater usefulness, and the more indispensa- 
 ble necessity, if it be taken into the account, that it 
 is not from the world only that religion is assailed. 
 The temptations of Satan, and the corruptions of the 
 human heart, occasion many conflicts and difficul- 
 ties in the progress of the Christian life, with wliicli 
 none but religious men are fully acquainted, and in 
 which they alone are qualified to instruct. Yet, 
 there is hardly any situation, in which some one or 
 other, in the small circle of religious men, has not, 
 at some time or other, found himself placed, and 
 from which he has not been delivered, through the 
 assistance of Divine grace. Such cases very fre- 
 quently occur : and one can hardly estimate the ad- 
 vantage that is to be derived from the experience of 
 each, and from the encouragement and exhortations 
 of all. Besides, it is a great pleasure and satisfac- 
 tion to every good man, to perceive, that there are 
 others who are walking ia the same road, and en- 
 gaged in the same pursuits with himself. Mutual 
 exhortations, making for one thing, this discovery, 
 afford a consolation to the mind, when religion is 
 flourishing, and still more so wiicn it declines. The 
 followers of Christ, like those of Eneas, on the sack- 
 ing of Troy, (if I may be permitted such a compa- 
 rison,) rejoice to find, here and there, a cluster of 
 their friends, however small their number, or how- 
 ever fallen their hopes. They find themselves, in 
 some sense to be in an enemy's country, w here their 
 interest is small ; where it seems to be borne down 
 by a torrent of vice ; where they themselves are con- 
 
EXHORTATION AGAINST SIN. 71 
 
 sidered as a sort of spies, and are obliged, in some 
 measure, to observe as much caution and reserve, as 
 if they really were so ; but, w^hen they meet toge- 
 ther, their hopes revive. They are a little band of 
 friends, which stick closer than a brother ; they en- 
 courage and support one another; they bear each 
 other's burdens, dispel their doubts, encourage their 
 hopes and dissipate their fears ; they assist the weak 
 and cheer the disconsolate. In this lamentable age 
 of reason, for instance, he who pursues the road to 
 Heaven, must consider himself almost as a solitary 
 pilgrim : but if he, perchance, meet with others by 
 the way, and they are permitted to commune toge- 
 ther, he feels as if surrounded by a cloud of wit- 
 nesses, and is encouraged to run, with patience, the 
 race that is set before him. 
 
 Such, then, is the propriety, and such are the ad- 
 vantages of religious exhortations. 
 
 We recur now to the particular reason on which 
 the exhortation in the text seems to be founded. It 
 is this : " Lest any of you be hardened through the 
 deceitfulness of sin.'' 
 
 There are so many instances of this, that I shall 
 not pretend to enumerate them all ; but content my- 
 self with two or three. It has been observed in this 
 discourse, that the commission of sin, in the first in- 
 stances especially, is ever accompanied or followed 
 by the remonstrances of conscience, and the con- 
 demnation of our own hearts. There must needs, 
 then, be some delusion or other practised, to account 
 for the habitual practice of it afterwards. One rea- 
 son, I suppose to be, that being more appalled by 
 the fears of punishment, than shocked or disgusted 
 
72 EXHORTATION AGAINST SIN» 
 
 at the demerit of tlie crime, we set our ingenuity at 
 work, to extenuate it : when our alarm has subsided, 
 and the next temptation occurs, the offence is sup- 
 posed to have been exai^gcrated by our own appre- 
 hensions, when, in itself, it was really small and 
 trivial. All things considered, we cannot but hope, 
 that it was very pardonable, and it is possible we 
 may consider ourselves as entitled to some little cre- 
 dit, that we were guilty of nothing worse. 
 
 The circumstances of the case; the temptation 
 which was thrown in our way; the natural impetu- 
 oshy of the passions, and the suddenness of sur- 
 prise, are all offered, on reflection, in palliation of 
 the offence. These considerations must certainly 
 entitle us to some indulgence. By these reasonings, 
 we begin to conclude that we are not so guilty as 
 we at first imagined. It is well, indeed, if we do 
 not exculpate ourselves entirely, and lay the blame 
 on some of our companions, or the peculiar circum- 
 stances in which we were placed. 
 
 Again, a comparison of ourselves with others, has 
 a very natural tendency to divert our minds from a 
 serious consideration of our own guilt. The moat 
 that is in our own eye, is permitted to escape obser- 
 vation, when we behold a beam in the eye of our 
 brother. These things are suggested, in order to 
 administer peace to the mind ; and, in consequence 
 of them, from melancholy reflections on our own bad 
 conduct, and from the apprehension of its unhappy 
 consequences, we become quite secure, and are plea- 
 sed to find that we are superior to so many others. 
 Thus, a less degree of guilt is converted into a kind 
 of negative virtue, and we transfer our fears to the 
 
EXHORTATION AGAINST SIN. 73 
 
 over-balance of other mens' sins. By such falla- 
 cious arts, we are persuaded to dispel the gloominess 
 of our minds ; we magnify the offences of others, to 
 diminish our own. This passes for a detestation of 
 sin, and we become prepared, in the end, to join 
 with the Pharisee in the temple, in thanking God 
 " that we are not as other men are." 
 
 Again, if the original depravity of human nature 
 is admitted, that depravity is offered, if not as a full 
 justification, at least as a sufficient excuse. This 
 consideration, humiliating as it is, and most cer- 
 tainly true, we have the ingenuity to turn to our 
 account, by giving it the appellation of a misfortune, 
 rather than of a fault. We conclude, that all men 
 have their failings, and that there is no such thing 
 as perfection in the present life. This is, indeed, a 
 melancholy truth ; but, it must needs be a subtle ar- 
 gument that could produce any consolation from it. 
 Yet, so it is, that whilst the honest mind regrets its 
 many imperfections, and seeks improvement from 
 the influences of Divine Grace, the deceitful heai't 
 is contented to take shelter under the unpromising 
 banners of human infirmities. The grossest enor- 
 mities are but constitutional evils. There are many 
 virtues, besides, to counterbalance them, and we are 
 apt to flatter ourselves, upon the whole, that we 
 have a very good heart. 
 
 Another deception which sin practises upon us, 
 is, the sanction which it is always wont to claim from 
 specious names. The contempt of God and of his 
 word, has learned to disclaim the harsh and odious 
 name of infidelity, and to arrogate to itself the softer 
 name of reason. We indulge the utmost licentious- 
 
 10 
 
74 EXHORTATION AGAINST SIN. 
 
 iiess of principles, from our high veneration for libe- 
 rality of sentiment. If we approve or justify, in 
 any instance, the libertine conduct of others, though 
 it be really for no other purpose than to give some 
 countenance to our own, yet we do it from a princi- 
 ple of Christian cliarity. An avaricious disposition 
 invites the patronage of frugality, and the most cri- 
 minal profusion is called generosity. Thus, for 
 whatever vice men sutter themselves to be addicted 
 to, they invent a respectable plea ; for, it is sure to 
 put itself under the protection of some splendid 
 virtue. 
 
 But, perhaps the more common deception of sin 
 is, that which it practises upon us in early life. 
 AVhen we first enter on its career, we please our- 
 selves with the prospect of many days. We soon 
 learn that youth is the time for amusement ; and we 
 fondly hope that we may be indulged in a few juve- 
 nile follies, and the fashionable vices of the times. 
 And, that we may indulge ourselves in them, we 
 first form a resolution that we will repent at a cer- 
 tain time hereafter. And, though this is really 
 nothing more than a determination to defer repen- 
 tance for the present, yet it serves as a sufficient 
 lure. In this delusion we pass through life ; every 
 day more corrupted and more hardened by sin, un- 
 til, if we are spared, we arrive at old age, the time 
 allotted for our repentance. But, here we are still 
 deceived. For this period sin seems to have reserv- 
 ed its master-piece of fraud. Those evil days are 
 now come, when they may say experimentally, that 
 they see no pleasure in them. Their eyes grow dim 
 with age ; their desire fails, and they have no more 
 
EXHORTATION AGAINST SIN. 75 
 
 fuel with which to rekindle it. But, behold ! when 
 they have outlived their vices, they are persuaded 
 to believe that they have abandoned them. They 
 fondly flatter themselves, that they have at length 
 come to a ri;:;ht way of thinking ; that they have 
 entirely forsaken their vices, when in reality their 
 vices only have forsaken them. 
 
 Thus, sin deceives ; thus, it hardens ; and thus, 
 it destroys. 
 
 DECEITFULNESS OF THE HEART. 
 
 •^ The heart is deceitful above all things.^' 
 
 Jeremiah, 17lli cliap. 9lli verse. 
 
 Innumerable are the temptations, to which we 
 are in this world exposed, and almost insurmounta- 
 ble the obstacles which obstruct our happiness. 
 They are so far an over- match ; the one for our vir- 
 tue, and the other for our strength, that it is only 
 by supernatural aid that we are enabled to resist, 
 and finally to overcome. No sooner did man come 
 from the hand of his Creator, and was placed in a 
 peaceful and happy state, than a snare was laid for 
 his destruction. He was plied with temptations by 
 the great deceiver, and fell an unhappy victim to 
 
76 DECEITFULNESS OF THE HEART. 
 
 their power. Ever since, their number has in- 
 creased, and the ability to resist diminished. "With 
 departed innocence we lost our best defence, and by 
 the corruption of his nature, man has become di- 
 vided against himself. There is a law in his mem- 
 bers warring against the law in his mind. With- 
 out, the roaring lion is ever seeking to devour him, 
 and a strong party is formed against him within. 
 Sin has introduced an innumerable train of foes. 
 The world itself is become a snare ; it is full of de- 
 ceit ; for, in its very friendship there is the greatest 
 danger. On every hand we are beset with enemies. 
 Who would suppose that our bosom friend, the 
 heart, was amongst the number ? Alas ! it is com- 
 bined in the league against us too. It betrays us 
 under the most specious pretences ; it flatters us to 
 our ruin ; it is one of the worst enemies we have ; it 
 throws open the door to every invader; and, "is 
 deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked." 
 That we may be on our guard against this dan- 
 gerous enemy, it will be worth our pains to trace it 
 through its various windings, and endeavor to ex- 
 pose to light its dark intrigues. Our own experi- 
 ence may assist us in the search, and serve as a clue 
 to this mysterious labyrinth. Our case is singular, 
 if it has not frequently practised its delusive arts up- 
 on us. It has secretly undermined our best reso- 
 lutions, diverted us from our duty by the most sub- 
 tle artifices, and allured us to the commission of 
 crimes, by varnishing them over with a specious 
 gloss. So crafty is it, that we seldom suspect the 
 cheat, until we experience its effects ; till a more 
 honest conscience challenges our faults, and we are 
 
DECEITFULNESS OF THE HEART. 77 
 
 constrained to take up the fruitless lamentation, " O! 
 mine enemy, thou hast prevailed against me." 
 
 A more minute detail of some particulars, will 
 employ the remainder of this discourse. It will 
 bring to remembrance our past experience, and may 
 serve as a warning to us hereafter. 
 
 First, then, we may safely ascribe it to the de- 
 ceitfulness of our hearts, that we have so often and 
 so soon broken through our resolutions to correcl 
 our errors and amend our lives. We may recol- 
 lect when, in a serious hour, we had retired from the 
 tumultuous scene, or were satiated with the vain 
 pleasures of the world, the duties and necessity of 
 religion made their claim. Then we determined 
 that we would listen to their plea, and follow their 
 advice. Or, when uneasy by the conscious sense of 
 some forbidden wickedness, or harrassed by the 
 gnawings of a guilty conscience, we resolved that 
 we would amend our ways in future. This is so com- 
 mon, that we may presume it has been the case, at 
 times, with every one in this assembly ; and yet, 
 perhaps, it is as universally true, that these good 
 purposes have not been kept. We have frequently 
 resolved, and as often relinquished our resolutions. 
 A wicked heart, like a deceitful companion, has 
 drawn us aside, and given to our mind a diflferent 
 turn. It has suggested to us the most fallacious ar- 
 guments ; accommodated some to our youth, some 
 to our health and strength of body, some to our con- 
 dition in life, and all to the pitiable depravity of 
 human nature. It knows full well what advantage 
 to make of all these sources of deception, and is 
 well versed in the subtle artifice of sophistical de- 
 ductions. 
 
78 DECEITFULNESS OP THE HEART. 
 
 Tlic young, imtaught by experience to be wary 
 and suspicious, are ever credulous to the plausible 
 and fair. They listen, with pleasure, to the fond 
 idea, that they have many days to live, aud are 
 easily persuaded to put off, for the present, the so- 
 ber concerns of religion, and wait a more conveni- 
 ent season, which shall l)e better adapted to them. 
 "When life is young, (the deceitful heart suggests,) 
 it is to be expected that it will bear some marks of 
 folly and extravagance. They are, therefore, fond- 
 ly persuaded, that a little indulgence in the plea- 
 sures and fashionable vices of the times, cannot be 
 very criminal. They take the indulgence which 
 their hearts desire : they enter into the enchanted 
 circle of folly, noise and fashion, in which all things 
 appear very differently from what they really are. 
 They become capti\ ated and deceived by their fas- 
 cinating charms, and take their leave of all their se- 
 rious thoughts. By such gradual process, are the 
 youthful and unwary led estray. 
 
 As to the middle aged, they may, perhaps, be 
 supposed to walk with cautious circumspection. — 
 Years may have communicated wisdom, and the 
 various scenes through which they passed, given 
 them experience. But, they are not yet secure 
 against the temptations of a wicked heart. They 
 do not yet suspect it. It claims to be an old and 
 tried friend. They have followed its counsels all 
 along, and what is past of their journey, has proved 
 pleasant enough. By its artful management, they 
 have out-lived those qualms of conscience which 
 disturb the repose of novices in vice. They were 
 afraid, at first, that judgment would be executed ; 
 yet, they find all things continuing as they were. 
 
DECEITFULNESS OF THE HEART. 79 
 
 All these grounds of security, it cunningly sug- 
 gests. It admonishes them, too, that their hill is 
 still unshaken : they have yet a sound and vigorous 
 constitution, and their strength is unimpaired. This 
 being the case, it is with no great reluctance that 
 they are again persuaded to put off the evil day ; and 
 the deceitful, wicked heart, still cheers them up, 
 through the succeeding period. With this, then, 
 it must be presumed, that its good offices will end. 
 Its deceitfulness must, surely, be detected. In their 
 old age, the dream begins to vanish ; their strength 
 fails them ; their bodies are worn out ; the brawny 
 muscles are shrivelled away ; every nerve unstrung ; 
 and the hoary lock admonishes them that their race 
 is over. Ey what possible artifice are their spirits 
 now to be supported, when they stand on the verge 
 of eternity, and look back on a mis-spent life? It 
 would seem, that they cannot now be buoyed up 
 by distant hope, and one would think that the wily 
 heart itself would not presume on flattering them. 
 But, for this last, concluding scene, it has reserved 
 its master-piece of fraud. Those evil days have 
 come, when they may truly say, they see no plea- 
 sure in them ; their desire fails, and they have no 
 more fuel to re-kindle it ; and when they have out- 
 lived their vices, they are persuaded to believe that 
 they have abandoned them. They would fondly 
 flatter themselves, that they have forsaken their vi- 
 ces, when, in truth, their vices have forsaken them. 
 This is the subterfuge to which they are driven. — 
 O, this wicked heart of our's ! It deceives us from 
 first to last. 
 
80 DECEITFULNES8 OF THE HEART. 
 
 Having pursued it through the several stages of 
 youth, manhood and old age, we will now return 
 and take a short view of its manoeuvres in some in- 
 termediate steps. I intended, indeed, to hold up to 
 view the subtleties of the heart, in accommodating its 
 temptations to the various conditions of life in which 
 men are placed, considering them as prosperous or 
 unsuccessful, as private or as public characters. It 
 has wiles to prastice on each of these ; but, from 
 the example which has been already exhibited, we 
 may learn them all. Let us, then, in what remains 
 of this discourse, confine ourselves to the discovery 
 of such dangers as are common to every station and 
 every period of life. Notwithstanding all the al- 
 lurements to a wicked life, there is no man, perhaps, 
 that has persisted in it without many interruptions 
 from the remonstrances and checks of conscience. 
 It is well worth while to consider the deceitful sug- 
 gestions of the heart, on such occasions. Like a 
 ready counsel, it is ever at hand to appear for the 
 criminal at the bar, and plead his cause. It leaves 
 no subtle art untried to justify him to himself, and 
 thereby appease his conscience. The offence, in 
 the first place, is represented as small and trifling. 
 All things considered, it is very pardonable ; and, 
 indeed, it is very meritorious that we were guilty of 
 nothing worse. 
 
 If this art fail, there is another ready. The cir- 
 cumstances of the case ; the temptation which was 
 thrown in our way ; the impetuosity of the passions, 
 and the suddenness of surprise, are all offered in 
 palliation of the crime. These considerations, sure- 
 
DECEITFULNESS OF THE HEART. 81 
 
 ly, entitle us to some indulgence. Any other per- 
 son, in our situation, would have acted as we did. 
 By such reasoning, we begin to think that we are 
 not so guilty as we at first imagined ; and it is well 
 if we do not exculpate ourselves entirely, and lay 
 the whole blame on some of our companions, or the 
 peculiar circumstances in which we were placed. 
 A comparison of ourselves with others, is another 
 very flattering plea, which is submitted to our con- 
 sideration ; and this affords at least an indirect sa- 
 tisfaction to our minds. From a melancholy review 
 of our conduct, and from a dejection of spirit, from 
 the apprehension of its dreadful consequences, we 
 rise, all at once, to a superiority over many others. 
 We are persuaded to transfer our fears to the over- 
 balance of other mens' sins. We have some fail- 
 ings indeed ; but, in comparison of others, we are 
 quite innocent. So ingenious is the heart of man, 
 that it converts a less degi'ee of guilt into a virtue. 
 By such fallacious arts, we are taught to dispel the 
 gloominess of our minds. And before all is over, 
 we are apt to join with the Pharisee in the Temple, 
 in thanking God, that we are not as other men are. 
 Again, the depravity of human nature offers us its 
 aid, when we are at any loss for a ground of justifi- 
 cation. This consideration, humiliating as it is, we 
 turn to our account. If we are guilty, we ask, 
 "And who is innocent? All men have their fail- 
 ings ; and there is no such thing as perfection in this 
 life." This is, indeed, a melancliuly truth ; and it 
 must needs be a subtle reasoner, that could draw 
 any comfort from it. Yet, so it is, that whilst the 
 
 11 
 
82 THE VALUE OF THE SOUL. 
 
 honest mind regrets the many imperfections, the de- 
 ceitful heart takes shelter under the deceitful doak 
 of human infirmities. 
 
 ON THE VALUE OF THE SOUL. 
 
 *^ For, what is a man profited, if he should gain the 
 whole icorld and lose his own soul ? Or, what 
 shall a man give in exchange for his soul ?" 
 
 Mattliew, 16lh cliap. 26th verse. 
 
 In the two preceding verses, our Lord acquaint- 
 ed his disciples with the terms of that salvation 
 which he was to procure for his followers, and fi- 
 nally to bestow. And, as these appeared somewhat 
 hard, he took occasion, in the words of the text, to 
 obviate any objection that might be raised on that 
 account. 
 
 The conditions were, that "if any man would 
 come after him, he should deny himself, and take up 
 his cross and follow him : for," says he, '* whoso- 
 ever will save his life, shall lose it ; and whosoever 
 will lose his life, for my sake, shall find it." 
 
 If there be any hard sayings in the Gospel, it 
 must be acknowledged, that these are certainly 
 within that description. To deny ourselves; to 
 
THE VALUE OF THE SOUL. 83 
 
 resist and forego our own inclinations ; to give up 
 all our favourite pursuits ; to take up our cross, anil, 
 finally, to resign life itself, are sayings, indeed, 
 which few men can bear. They seem to imply the 
 loss of every thing that is worth having, and to place 
 us in a worse situation than we would otherwise be 
 in. 
 
 Such, at first view, appears to be the amount of 
 these conditions. But, before we thus decide upon 
 them, we are called upon in the text, to make use of 
 our reason, in a thorough investigation of the pre- 
 mises, and thence to draw our conclusion : ^' What 
 is a man profited, if he should gain the whole world 
 and lose his own soul?" 
 
 The question is stated, it must be allowed, in the 
 most favourable light, on the side of earthly posses- 
 sions. Perpetually engaged as men are, in contend- 
 ing for the goods of life, it is to be expected, that 
 the portion of them which may fall, in the end, to the 
 lot of any one, cannot be very large. 
 
 But, the supposition is, that a man shall be so 
 successful as to get the whole world into his posses- 
 sion ; and, with this is contrasted the loss of his 
 soul. 
 
 This is the state of the case, as exhibited by our 
 Lord, and on tliis we will now join issue. 
 
 I beg leave, in this place, to make two remarks, 
 on the truth of which the decision of this question 
 will depend. The first is, that the ultimate advan- 
 tage of any possession, to the owner, is not to be es- 
 timated by the quantity of the article itself, but by 
 the balance that shall be found in his favour, after a 
 deduction of all expenses, and the final settlement of 
 
84 THE VALUE OF THE SOUL. 
 
 the account. Secondly, that when any two ohjects 
 are put in competition, it* we cannot enjoy them both, 
 it is alto^^ether reason;il)le to give the preference to 
 that which is of the greatest value, whilst wisdom 
 is empU)ycd in prosecuting the means which may be 
 necessary to the attainment of it. If these obser- 
 vations be well founded, it will become no difficult 
 task to decide upon tlie present question. 
 
 In order to obtain a fair and unbiassed judgment 
 upon this subject, I will, in the first place, consider 
 what sacrifices we are called to make, for the salva- 
 tion of the soul. 
 
 Secondly, what may be the value of the soul it- 
 self. This, in the third place, will induce the com- 
 parison which our Lord has stated, between the 
 value of the soul and that of all temporal posses- 
 sions and enjoyments. 
 
 The first consideration is, the sacrifices which we 
 are called to make, in order to the salvation of our 
 souls. This will occupy the present discourse. 
 This enquiry is not only fair and proper in itself, 
 but is particularly authorised by the directions of 
 our Lord. If a man have a mind to build an house, 
 he recommends that he first sit down and count the 
 cost. So, also, in recommending to men the care 
 of their souls, as the one thing needful, he prefaces 
 it with this information, that they must deny them- 
 selves, take up their cross, and even hold their lives 
 cheap for his sake. These terms of admission into 
 his kingdom, have been sometimes aggravated, and 
 sometimes, 1 believe, too much mitigated. 
 
 The first of them, indeed, if 1 understand it pro- 
 perly, seems to admit of no qualification. We must 
 
THE VALUE OF THE SOUL. 85 
 
 deny ourselves. If we would make religion our 
 choice and adhere to the ways of Holiness, which 
 alone lead to happiness, we must begin by restrain- 
 ing and mortifying our own natural desires and in- 
 clinations. The obvious reason of this is, that our 
 affections are depraved, and that the natural man sa- 
 voureth not of the things of God. Human nature 
 is said, in Scripture, to be prone to evil as the 
 sparks fly upwards. Tliis propensity to evil, then, 
 must in no instance be indulged, because it renders 
 us unworthy, as well as wholly unfit to hold that 
 communion with God, either here, or hereafter, in 
 which the happiness of the soul consists. The 
 grace of God, which hath appeared to all men, 
 teaclies, that denying ungodliness and every fleshly 
 lust, we should live soberly, righteously and Godli- 
 ly, in this present evil world. 
 
 Were I asked how far this injunction extends, 1 
 would say that it extends to the prohibition, not only 
 of all criminal pleasures absolutely, but even of 
 such more innocent amusements as might be substi- 
 tuted in the room, or obstruct the progress of true 
 and practical religion. I will endeavour to explain 
 my meaning by one example, which I select from 
 many others, because the most familiar, and, all 
 things considered, perhaps the most dangerous of 
 any. That propensity which many have to jovial 
 companions, revelling and intemperate mirth of every 
 kind, if it be indulged and unrestrained, stands di- 
 rectly opposed to our safety, and is highly injurious 
 to the interests of religion. If we would be follow- 
 ers of our Heavenly Master, we must carefully guard 
 ourselves against too great an indulgence in these, 
 
86 THE VALUE OF THE SOUL. 
 
 and exchange them for the company of such as fear 
 God, and for the more vSober, yet not less cheerful 
 duties of a virtuous life. In a word, we are requir- 
 ed to turn from every evil way, and, having done 
 inicjuity, to do so no more. 
 
 The example which 1 have chosen, may, perhaps, 
 appear but trivial ; yet, as we are commanded to 
 avoid a conformity to the world, I am persuaded 
 it is of great importance, as far as the principles of 
 religion are concerned ; and particularly so, in the 
 consequences with which it is usually attended. — 
 When men have set their invention to work, to find 
 out how far they may, with safety, give in to the 
 fashionable follies and merriments of the day ; how 
 far religion may be consistent with a conformity to 
 the maxims and manners of the age, they have sel- 
 dom stopped short of an extreme, in abating more 
 than they ought, I think, of that steady adherence 
 to the principles and practice of virtue, which our 
 Lord himself has seen proper to enjoin. 
 
 To tlie other part of the conditions which respect 
 the renunciation of the profits of the world, and the 
 losing of our lives for the sake of Christ, the Scrip- 
 tures admit of certain limitations. Such as have re- 
 tired from all the busy and industrious scenes of life, 
 and rendered themselves useless, if not burthensome 
 to society, under pretence of renouncing the world, 
 have no doubt been guilty of an error. In this they 
 have been influenced by a mistaken zeal, neither 
 warranted by Scripture, nor directed by knowledge. 
 The same principle, carried to its extent, would al- 
 so lead them to put an end to their existence. It 
 has sometimes happened, too, that piously disposed, 
 
THE VALUE OF THE SOUL. 87 
 
 but misinformed men, have been oflRcious in incur- 
 ring the hatred, and provoking the insults of a con- 
 temptuous world, that they might have the honor 
 of suflering reproach and scorn for the sake of their 
 Master. Every thing of this kind seems evidently 
 to imply a w^ant of that prudence which should be- 
 long to a Christian ; and I do suppose that no man 
 was ever called to it. Indeed, when a sense of 
 known duty calls upon us, if we would attend to 
 the precepts and imitate the example of our Divine 
 Master, we should never shrink from it through fear 
 of opposition, reproach or suffering, but be ready to 
 meet and contented to bear them. Yet, if it be in 
 our power, it is doubtless our duty to avoid reproach, 
 and not to court ill usage, because, as our Saviour 
 has expressed it, suflficient unto the day is the evil 
 thereof. 
 
 But, the time has been, (and it may be again,) 
 when it was the indispensable duty of Christians, 
 to give up all their worldly possessions, and even to 
 lay down their lives for the sake of Christ. Peter 
 and the rest of the disciples, left all and followed 
 him. So also, when persecution raged against the 
 Church ; when those who professed the doctrines 
 and observed the duties of the Christian religion, 
 were accounted worthy of death, they were dragged 
 as sheep to the slaughter. I should rather say, in- 
 deed, that they went cheerfully to the stake or scaf- 
 fold, and sealed their testimony with their blood. 
 
 Should such circumstances occur again, our duty 
 certainly would be to follow their example. 
 
 But though, in the providence of God, we possess 
 a goodly heritage, and are totally delivered from 
 
88 THE VALUE OF THE SOUL. 
 
 the feavs of any such violence, we are, nevertheless, 
 not altogether discharged from the exercise of the 
 same duties. It has I)een said, and 1 think with 
 great propriety, that every faithful Christian is an 
 intentional martyr : that is to say, that if he were 
 called upon, in the providence of God, he would, in 
 the last extremity, think it his duty rather to resign 
 liis life, than to renounce his faith, and the testimo- 
 ny of Jesus Christ. 
 
 It is easy to see how the same application ex- 
 tends to the good things of the world. These, 
 though, indeed, of inferior value, are yet by no 
 means despicable in the estimation of a religious 
 man. It is his duty, industriously to procure, and 
 thankfully to enjoy them. But, the glory of God, 
 and the interests of his own soul, must be uppermost 
 in his esteem ; and with respect to all things else, 
 he must be comparatively indifferent. If, in times 
 of danger and necessity, it would be incumbent on 
 him to part with the gifts of fortune, and even his 
 life, certainly a total deliverance from such urgent 
 circumstances, though it should make him thankful, 
 would, by no means, justify him in giving these 
 things the highest place in his affections. 
 
 It appears, then, that the exercise of tliese duties, 
 enjoined by our Saviour, will be found to consist in 
 the temper and disposition of the mind. The tran- 
 sitory enjoyments of time and sense, of whatever 
 kind they may be, whether houses, lands or rela- 
 tions, are to be held by Christians in perfect resig- 
 nation to the will of their Heavenly Master, and 
 they should be prepared to give them up without re- 
 pining, whenever he is pleased to call for them. 
 
THE VALUE OF THE SOUL. 89 
 
 What shall we say of the conduct of those, who, 
 having met with disap[)ointincnt in their worldly pro- 
 jects, or loss of their goods by fire, or by storms, 
 suffer their grief and mourning to increase to such 
 a pitch as to render them quite miserable and fretful 
 while they live, and perhaps drive them, in the end, 
 to destroy their own existence? It is certainly an 
 evidence that they esteemed these things too highly, 
 a.id were too much wedded to their idols. 
 
 When, in any instance, men are dissatisfied and 
 unhappy under the hand of God, in the disposal of 
 their worldly affairs, it is clear that they are desti- 
 tute of the qualifications of those wlio shall inherit 
 his kingdom. 
 
 The same thing is also to be sai<l of that eager and 
 unwearied pursuit, in vvliich too many are engaged 
 after the profits of the world. 1 1 seems to be their only 
 study to heap up wealth, and their only inquiry, who 
 will shew us any earthly good ? This seems strongly 
 to indicate, that they consider these things as the most 
 valuable portion ; and, if so, they are in the great- 
 est danger of bartering for them the more precious 
 interest of their souls. When this is the case with 
 any of us, my brethren ; when we find ourselves ea- 
 ger in the pursuit of the goods of fortune, or undu- 
 ly attached to the possession of them, we are, 1 think, 
 in very great jeopardy, and have placed ourselves 
 nearly in the situation of the young man in the Gos- 
 pel, who went away sorrowful, wlieu he was direct- 
 ed to part with his estate, and refused to exchange 
 it for all the treasures of Heaven. The influence of 
 sensible and present enjoyments on the mind, is so 
 exceedingly strong, and the danger from this quar- 
 
 12 
 
90 THE VALUE OF THE SOUL. 
 
 ter is so great, that the disciples of our Lord thought 
 it almost impossible that any could be saved. There- 
 fore, there is great need that we endeavour to guard, 
 ourselves against them with the utmost caution, and 
 deny ourselves to them with the most Christian for- 
 titude and resignation. If any man love the world, 
 says our Lord, he cannot be my disciple. The ex- 
 tent and meaning of this, is more fully expressed in 
 a passage in the 10th of Matthew: "Hethatloveth 
 father or mother, more than me, is not worthy of 
 me ; and he that loveth son or daughter more than 
 me, is not worthy of me. And he that taketh not 
 his cross and followeth after me, is not worthy of 
 me. He that findeth his life shall lose it, and he 
 that loseth his lil'e for my sake, shall find it." 
 
RELIGION A REASONABLE SERVICE. 91 
 
 RELIGION A REASONABLE SERVICE. 
 
 ^*And his commands are not grievous J^ 
 
 1 John, 5th chap. 3d verse. 
 
 Christianity has suffered much in the world, by 
 the misrepresentations of its enemies, as well as by 
 the blind zeal of some weak friends and advocates. 
 There is scarcely a reproach which has not been 
 cast upon it ; nor an evil which has not been charg- 
 ed to its account, by the malevolence of the one, or 
 through the ill judged zeal of the other. 
 
 Our blessed Lord, himself, notwithstanding the 
 peaceful and temperate life which he led, was charg- 
 ed with attempting to subveri the civil government, 
 by forbidding to pay tribute to Caesar; saying, 
 that he himself was Christ, a King; of being a 
 wine-bibber and a friend of publicans and sinners ; 
 and his Apostles were accused of introducing dis- 
 orders in the world, though their doctrines had a di- 
 rect tendency to promote peace and harmony ; ^' those 
 that turn the world up-side- down, are come hither 
 also." But, these charges were not of the most dan- 
 gerous kind ; for, their falsehood was too obvious 
 for them to impose, even on the weakest. 
 
 Amongst the many objections which the enemies 
 of Christianity have raised against it, none is more 
 common or more unfriendly to its interests, than that 
 of a gloomy, severe and unsocial spirit, which is 
 often attributed to it by its enemies, and to which 
 
92 RELIGION A REASONABLE SERVICE. 
 
 the conduct of some of its professed friends, seems to 
 give some weight. By a severe and gloomy exte- 
 rior, they have created unhappy prejudices against 
 Christianity in the minds of others. 
 
 If we embrace this religion, say they, we must^ 
 with it, embrace this austere way of living ; we must 
 assume this solemn air, and this sadness of counte- 
 nance, which precludes even the most innocent and 
 temperate enjoyments. 
 
 Adieu, then, to all the social pleasures, the cheer- 
 ful look and joyful countenance ; in fine, we must 
 banish all but gloom and solitude. 
 
 Without the social pleasures ; without cheerful- 
 ness ; without joy ; Avhat is life ? It is worse than 
 death itself; and that religion which forbids us those 
 innocent enjoyments for which nature has chiefly 
 fitted us, however it may suit the gloomy and mo- 
 rose, is certainly very improper for us, and as such^ 
 we do well to reject it. 
 
 It is with a view to obviate this objection, and to 
 expose its injustice, that I have chosen the words 
 now read in your hearing, as the subject of this ad- 
 dress ; in the progress of which, I propose to shew : 
 
 1st. That the difficulties which occur in the prac- 
 tice of the duties of Christianity, proceed not from 
 any thing in the nature of the requisitions, but from 
 the temper of our minds. 
 
 2d. That those commands of the Gospel the most 
 loudly complained of, are such as are the most salu- 
 tary in their nature, and such as we would the most 
 willingly perform, if we had a proper sense of our 
 own interest. 
 
RELIGION A BEASONABLE SERVICE. 93 
 
 3d. That Christianity is so far from being an 
 enemy to innocent enjoyments, that it gives a higher 
 relish to them. 
 
 It would be endless to enumerate all the com- 
 mands of the Gospel, which have, by men of differ- 
 ent tempers of mind, been complained of as harsh 
 and unreasonable ; but, that we may do ample jus- 
 tice to this subject, we will select a few which ha^ e 
 been the most general subjects of complaint. 
 
 " If thy right hand off'eud thee," says our Lord, 
 *^ cut it off; if thy right eye offend thee, pluck it 
 out." These are amongst the hard sayings of the 
 Gospel ; and if any of its precepts may be complain- 
 ed of for their severity, these certainly may. It is 
 here to be observed, that these are figurative expres- 
 sions ; and that by cutting off a right hand, or pluck- 
 ing out a right eye, the mortifying and subduing our 
 reigning passions are pointed out. Yet, by this 
 explanation, the nature of tlie command is no way 
 softened ; for, in this sense, they are still hard say- 
 ings to carnal men. 
 
 Though the power of sinful passions is great in 
 every unregenerate mind, yet, the same passions do 
 not prevail in every mind ; and further, the ruling 
 passion of the mind may, in some good measure, 
 subdue, if not entirely eradicate, all the others. — 
 Where this is the case, those commands of the Gos- 
 pel are well received which do not interfere with 
 this *' master passion," as the poet expresses it ; but 
 such as are levelled at it, are sure to be received as 
 a hard saying. 
 
 We have an illustration of this observation, in the 
 case of the young man in the Gospel, who came to 
 
94 RELIGION A REASONABLE SERVICE. 
 
 our Lord to know what he must do to be saved. 
 Our Lord refers him to the law, the leading precepts 
 of which were recited ; and as nothing, yet mention- 
 ed, was opposed to his leading passion of avarice, 
 they sat easy enough on his mind, and he replies, 
 " All these 1 have kept from my youth." Yet, says 
 our Lord, '' Lackest thou one thing; sell all that thou 
 hast, and give to the poor." This was a severe 
 blow ! This was lopping off a right hand, or pluck- 
 ing out a right eye. Any thing but this ! He would 
 honor his father and mother, as much as our Lord 
 would require ; or he would live as peaceably, as 
 temperately, and as chastely, as could be wished; 
 indulge him in this favorite vice, and in other re- 
 spects he would be very virtuous. Why so? Is 
 avarice so much harder to subdue than any other 
 vice of the mind? IS'o; but his heart was particu- 
 larly weak in that quarter ; avarice had corrupted 
 his mind, and probing that wound, gave him infinite 
 pain. Had sensuality, or ambition, or pride, or re- 
 venge, been the ruling passion of his mind, he would 
 have gone away just as sorrowful, on being forbid- 
 den the pursuit of them. 
 
 Tell a proud man, that he must, if he would be a 
 Christian, be just, sincere, benevolent, and even de- 
 vout : why ! all this is well ; he has observed all these 
 from his youth. But, tell him he must deny him- 
 self and take up his cross, and you send him away 
 sorrowful. 
 
 The sensualist will subscribe to any thing, which 
 will leave him in possession of his good cbeer. 
 
 So, that you see the diificulty of obeying all 
 Hiese precepts of the Gospel arises from the temper 
 
RELIGION A REASONABLE SERVICE. 95 
 
 of our mind ; otherwise, the same command would 
 be equally grievous to all. If the difficulty lay in 
 the nature of the duty to be performed, all would 
 find it difficult. But, you see what is most grievous 
 to one, is easy to another, just as the temper of our 
 mind happens to be. 
 
 The only way to make our duty easy to us, is to 
 have these inordinate affections subdued, and the 
 temper of our minds rectified, which is the very thing 
 the Gospel professes to do for us ; and this leads to 
 the second thing proposed, to prove, that those com- 
 mands of the Grospel the most loudly complained of, 
 are the most salutary in their nature, and such as 
 we would most willingly practice, if we had a pro- 
 per sense of our own interest. 
 
 It is plain, from the constitution of the human 
 mind, that reason was designed to be the ruling 
 power in it, to which all the passions were to be 
 subordinate. It is the business of reason to give 
 the passions their proper direction, and to moderate 
 them in the pursuit of their objects ; to restrain us in 
 the pursuit of what is hurtful, and quicken our en- 
 deavors in the attainment of what is proper and salu- 
 tary. 
 
 Whilst reason is thus at the helm, the mind is 
 tranquil and happy, and the character virtuous and 
 respectable. 
 
 liut, when this order of things is deranged ; when 
 the passions cease to submit to the guidance of rea- 
 son ; when we pursue with eagerness, what is most 
 hurtful ; when we relax in the pursuit of what is 
 more beneficial ; and, further, when different pas- 
 sions impel us in different directions, so as to dis- 
 
96 RELIGION A REASONABLE SERVICE. 
 
 tract the mind by engaging us in pursuits quite in- 
 compatible, it is easy to see what a scene of disorder 
 and misery must ensue. Indeed, it is scarcely pos- 
 sible to couceive, of any thing, more wretched than 
 such a state of mind. 
 
 And, the longer this disorder continues, the more 
 it increases. The moral powers, by being diverted 
 from their proper object, become unfit for any thing 
 good or virtuous, and the soul sinks, at last, into a 
 degree of depravity, which manifests itself in the 
 most ilagitious and shameful pursuits and enjoy- 
 ments. And, what adds greatly to the misery of 
 such a state of mind, is a sense of the Divine dis- 
 pleasure, resulting from a consciousness of having 
 lived in the violation of the laws which God had 
 impressed on their minds and revealed in his word. 
 
 That we are not mistaken in reasoning thus, from 
 the constitution of our minds, scripture and experi- 
 ence both clearly evince. If we consult the former, 
 we find the restless and agitated state of the sinner's 
 mind painted in all that beauty and force of lan- 
 guage, so peculiar to the sacred writings : *' To the 
 wicked there is no peace ; they are like the troubled 
 sea, when it cannot rest ; they travail with pain, all 
 their days ; trouble and anguish prevail against 
 them ; terrors make them afraid on every side ; a 
 dreadful sound is in their ears ; and they are in 
 great fear when no fear is." 
 
 Nor is the depraved and corrupt state of the sin- 
 ners mind less forcibly represented in the sacred 
 writings, when it is compared to a cage of unclean 
 birds. 
 
RELIGION A REASONABLE SERVICE. 97 
 
 Nor is the feeble and relaxed state of the moral 
 powers less forcibly represented in these words, 
 **the whole head is sick, and the whole heart is faint." 
 
 And, when we consult the experience of past ages, 
 we are but the more confirmed in the truth of those 
 conclusions, which we have draAvn from reasoning 
 on the nature of the human mind. The history of 
 mankind in all ages ; the whole series of their trans- 
 actions, however dignified by being recorded as the 
 intrigues of statesmen or the exploits of conquerors, 
 shews nothing more than the efforts of this restless 
 and agitated state of mind which we have been de- 
 scribing, and thestruggles of jarring passions amongst 
 unhappy men. 
 
 But, the wretched state resulting from the disor- 
 ders of the passions, is but half described, unless 
 we take into consideration the miseries which await 
 the unregenerate in a future life, which will be 
 infinitely heightened in degree and endless in dura- 
 tion. From this scene of misery, both present and 
 future, Christianity proposes to deliver us, and that, 
 too, in the only way in which we can be delivered ; 
 by restoring the rectitude of our nature and calming 
 the disorders of the passions. 
 
 How unreasonable, then, to complain of the very 
 means of our recovery ; whilst under the tyranny of 
 sinful and disorderly passions, it is impossible we 
 should ever be happy. How, then, should we wel- 
 come religion as our deliverer from so wretched a 
 state ? And, if we understood our own best interests, 
 how cheerfully, nay, how eagerly should we practice 
 those precepts of the Gospel, which have a tenden- 
 cy to break the power of those violent passions which 
 
 13 
 
98 RELIGION A REASONABLE SERVICE. 
 
 enslave us ? And, how would we aspire to that state 
 of liberty in which the Gospel would place us? And, 
 if through Divine Grace we ever attain to a state of 
 Gospel liberty from the tyranny of sinful passions, 
 how much pleasure should we, then, have in the 
 practice of those very precepts which once appeared 
 so irksome and disagreeable to us ? How should we, 
 like the Psalmist, exclaim, " Oh ! 1 love thy law, 
 'tis sweeter to my taste than honey from the honey 
 comb :" then should we, like the converts of old, 
 have joy and peace in believing. And this leads to 
 the third head of our doctrine, that Christianity is 
 so far from being an enemy to any innocent enjoy- 
 ments, that it gives them a higher relish. 
 
 Chequered as the life of man is with good and evil ; 
 various and diversified as our conditions in this world 
 are, there are two states in life which take in all the 
 children of men ; 1 mean those of prosperity and 
 adversity, on both of which religion has the most 
 happy effects. 
 
 Let us compare the situation of the righteous and 
 of the wicked, in these two states of life, and then 
 we will see how the Christian triumphs, whilst the 
 wicked man desponds in adversity ; and in prosperi- 
 ty, we will see how all his enjoyments are heighten- 
 ed to the Christian, whilst to the ungodly, prosperi- 
 ty has scarcely any real enjoyments. 
 
 The power of the great, the wisdom of the wise, 
 and the riches of the wealthy, have, in all ages, been 
 employed to secure their state against the approach- 
 es of adversity, or to defend them against its attacks. 
 Power has tried to keep it at a distance ; philoso- 
 phy to conquer it by patience, and wealth to allevi- 
 ate it by pleasures. 
 
RELIGION A REASONABLE SERVICE. 99 
 
 But, experience has shewn how ineffectual all 
 these precautions have been. Religion has not been 
 inattentive to this important object. Of all the con- 
 siderations which can enter the mind, in the season 
 of distress, none can have so soothing an influence 
 as the belief of an interest in the favour of Him who 
 has the disposal of all events. Accordingly, we find 
 that Christianity has erected a pavilion, a secret 
 place in the tabernacle of the Most High, to which 
 her votaries are invited to resort in tlie time of trou- 
 ble; that the Almighty spreads a shield and a 
 buckler before them, to cover them from the terror 
 by night, and from the arrow that flyeth at noon 
 day. 
 
 Every form of religion has proposed to mankind 
 an interest in the favor of Heaven ; but, it was re- 
 served for Christianity to point out clearly, how tiiat 
 was to be obtained by a mediator and an atonement. 
 Christianity prepares the mind for adversity, by in- 
 structing us in the nature of true happiness ; it les- 
 sens our estimate of the value of the things of this 
 world, by shewing us their vanity. But, here I may 
 be asked, whether we are likely to be made happier 
 by being disgusted with the objects which surround 
 us ? My answer is, that religion secures our hap- 
 piness by pointing out sublimer enjoyments and no- 
 bler pursuits ; using the things of this world with 
 moderation, when they fall to our lot, but never re- 
 pining at being deprived of them, knowing and re- 
 flecting before- hand on their fading and transitory 
 nature ; so that when our earthly treasure fails us, 
 we have recourse to that inheritance which is eter- 
 nal and fadeth not away, reserved for the Saints in 
 light. 
 
100 RELIGION A REASONBLE SERVICE. 
 
 On the other hand, the man who has chosen this 
 world lor his inheritance, has no resource in the loss 
 of liis goods and possessions ; but falls a sure prey 
 to repining and discontent. The moral powers of 
 his mind are so weakened and enfeebled by vice, 
 that he cannot bear up against the pressure of ad- 
 versity ; but sinks under its weight, joining in the 
 abject complaint of the man of Ephraim, '^ they have 
 taken away my Gods, which 1 have made, and what 
 have I more ?" 
 
 If pain or sickness assail the Christian, he consi- 
 ders these as the chastenings of his Heavenly Fa- 
 ther, and is so far from fainting under the rod, that 
 he considers it as a proof of his adoption, knowing 
 that whom a father loveth, he correcteth, and chas- 
 teneth every son that he receiveth ; and with the 
 Apostle, believing that " these light afflictions, which 
 are for a moment, work out for him a far more ex- 
 ceeding and eternal weight of glory." 
 
 But, how different are the reiiections and views 
 of a wicked man, under the pressure of sickness, or 
 at the approach of death. The gay illusions which 
 flattered his senses are now dissipated by the rays of 
 truth. The view which he now lias of his past life, is 
 painful ; that of futurity is big with terror; and hope, 
 which could only befriend, is gone forever. Fain 
 would he now take refuge in the sanctuary of reli- 
 gion, but that, alas! is shut. 
 
 Where, O ! where, then, for shelter, shall the 
 guilty flee. 
 
 People in general are ready enough to allow re- 
 ligion the office of a comforter in sickness, and ad- 
 versity; whilst they consider it as an unwelcome 
 guest in the season of health and prosperity. But, 
 
RELIGION A REASONABLE SERVICE, 101 
 
 a little reflection will convince us, that as it allevi- 
 ates the suflerings of one state, so it heightens the 
 enjoyments of the other. 
 
 The mere possession of wealth, or any of the 
 gifts of fortune, is far from ensuring us the enjoy- 
 ment of thera. Solomon tells us of some to whom 
 God had given wealth and prosperity, but had not 
 given them an heart to enjoy them. As there is 
 something in the temper of our minds, which may 
 alleviate the ills of adversity, so there is, likewise, 
 that which may enhance the enjoyment of prospe- 
 rity. 
 
 Gratitude to God contributes, in an high degree, 
 to the enjoyment of prosperity. " Gratitude is a 
 pleasing emotion ; the sense of being distinguished 
 by the kindness of another, gladdens the heart, and 
 warms it with a mutual aifection.'' We have a 
 double relish for any thing, when we consider it as 
 the gift of a friend. How often do we see that single 
 circumstance give an immense value in the minds of 
 many, to what would otherwise have had little or 
 none ? How much more ought gratitude to God to 
 warm our hearts, under a sense of his favors, which 
 are invaluable in themselves, without this considera- 
 tion ? If, to gratitude for the past, we add a cheer- 
 ing sense of God's favor for the present, the emo- 
 tion will still be the more pleasing. What a ra- 
 tional, what a sublime pleasure it must be, to be able, 
 on good grounds, to class ourselves in the number 
 of those to whom these words are addressed : "Go 
 thy way, eat thy bread with joy, and drink thy 
 wine with a merry heart, for God now accepteth thy 
 works ?" Our pleasure is still increased, if, to gra- 
 
102 RELIGION A REASONABLE SERVICE. 
 
 titude for the past, and a sense of the favor of Hea- 
 ven for the present, we join comfortable hopes for the 
 future, and are enabled, with the Psalmist, to enter- 
 tain an humble confidence that goodness and mercy 
 will follow us all our days, and that we shall dwell 
 in the house of the Lord forever. 
 
 But, prosperity is doubled and multiplied to us 
 without end, when we make a generous use of it. 
 Happiness is reflected back on us in smiles, from 
 the faces of those whose hearts we have gladdened ; 
 we then feel the exalted pleasure of doing good ; and 
 the prayers of the widow and orphan ascend to 
 Heaven in our behalf, and draw down on us the 
 blessing of the Hearer of prayer. 
 
 We have a beautiful description of the joy which 
 Job experienced in the days of his prosperity, by 
 relieving the wants of the necessitous, and dispens- 
 ing happiness around him. " When the ear heard 
 me, it blessed me : when the eye saw me, it gave 
 witness to me, because 1 delivered the poor that cri- 
 ed, the fatherless, and him that had none to help 
 him ; the blessing of Him that was ready to perish, 
 came upon me, and I caused the widow's heart to 
 sing for joy." From this view of the subject, it is 
 plain, that religion is so far from lessening the real 
 enjoyments of life, that it is impossible to have any 
 without it. The wicked, on the other hand, are so 
 continually haunted with a sense of guilt, that no- 
 thing can aftbrd them any real enjoyment. 
 
 What, I beseech you, in the pleasures of the ball 
 room, the card table, or the theatre, where the intoxi- 
 cated senses are unfitted for the enjoyments pre- 
 pared for them, or the temper is soured by ill sue- 
 
RELIGION THE ONE THING NEEDFUL. 103 
 
 cess; what, in the loud laugh or vacant mind, 
 can compare with the rational enjoyment of the 
 Christian, who uses the world as not abusing it; and, 
 supported by the goodness of God under every af- 
 fliction, is pressing on to an eternal inheritance in 
 Heaven? 
 
 ^:io 
 
 RELIGION THE ONE THING NEEDFUL. 
 
 ^^ But one thing is needfuV 
 
 Luke, lOth chap, 42d verse. 
 
 In considering the frame and constitution of hu- 
 man nature, we find it to be composed of two parts, 
 the soul and the body. These are of a different na- 
 ture, yet have a mutual influence on each other; 
 and both of them demand a careful attention, ac- 
 cording to their various wants, and their respective 
 value. The former is undoubtedly the more excel- 
 lent of the two, and is, therefore, entifled to the 
 first and highest consideration. Upon this princi- 
 ple our Saviour Itas recommended a particular at- 
 tention to religion, which he calls " the one thing 
 needful." The particular occasion of his delivering 
 the words of the text, was a difference which he ob- 
 served in the conduct of Martha and her sister 
 
104 RELIGION THE ONE THING NEEDFUL. 
 
 Mary : whilst the latter " sat at his feet and heard 
 his word," the former was ** cumbered about much 
 serving." Upon this, he said to her, '< Martha, 
 Martha, thou art careful and troubled about many 
 things ; but one thing is needful." 
 
 From this connection of the passage, it might 
 possibly be supposed, that there was something cri- 
 minal, or improper, in the conduct of Martha, upon 
 this occasion ; and that this language is an indirect 
 condemnation of all worldly pursuits. But, this 
 certainly cannot be a true conclusion, because it 
 would be contrary to the general tenor of the Gos- 
 pel. Two things, then, may rationally be conclu- 
 ded : one of them probable enough ; the other, I 
 think, certain. One is, that the great attention of 
 Martha to her domestic concerns, was, at this time, 
 unseasonable, as it is probable, that our Lord was 
 discoursing to his hearers on very important sub- 
 jects, and such as nearly concerned both their pre- 
 sent and their future happiness. The other is, that 
 our Saviour only took an opportunity, from this inci- 
 dent, to impress on the minds of his liearers, the 
 superior importance and necessity of spiritual attain- 
 ments, representing them, by way of eminence, as 
 the one thing needful. And then, the more neces- 
 sary the provision was, which Martha was making, 
 of the greater moment religion would appear, as be- 
 ing more needful than any thing else. In the same 
 maimer of speaking, we call the sacred records of 
 God, emphatically, the Scriptures : although all 
 other writings may be, strictly speakiug, Scriptures 
 also. In this view, I shall now consider the sub- 
 ject, as best according with our Saviour's general 
 
RELIGION THE ONE THING NEEDFUL. 105 
 
 instructions. If, in any instance, he appears to dis- 
 approve of an attention to our worldly interests, it 
 will be found to be oiily where there was an unrea- 
 sonable solicitude about them. When he cautions us 
 against any great anxiety about what we shall eat 
 and drink and wear, he does not represent these 
 things as unlawful or unnecessary; but informs us, 
 that such provision is made for them, in the course of 
 nature and the providence of God, that there is no 
 necessity, in the pursuit of them, to neglect the more 
 important concerns of our souls. " Your Heavenly 
 father," says he, " knoweth that ye have need of 
 these things ; but, seek ye first the kingdom of God 
 and his righteousness, and all these things shall be 
 added unto you." And, that we might not distrust 
 the goodness and care of God, in this respect, he 
 states a comparison between our situation and that 
 of the fowls of the air. The latter sow not, neither 
 carry into barns : yet, they are provided for. How 
 much more, then, may we be free from any painful 
 apprehensions of want, when in the exercise of com- 
 mon industry, we can sow, and in due season carry 
 into our barns, a sufficient stock of provisions for the 
 whole year ? These things seem to be thus ordered 
 in the wisdom of God, that we who have such im- 
 portant interests at stake, may not neglect them. 
 
 The condition in which we are placed in this 
 world, seems to represent an attention to religion 
 emphatically as the one thing needful. Indeed, 
 were we always to continue here, as our only place 
 of residence, the cultivation of our minds by the prin- 
 ciples of piety and virtue, would be essentially neces- 
 sary to our own peace and comfort, as well as to that 
 
 14 
 
106 RELIGION THE ONE THING NEEDFUL, 
 
 of the world at large. He who, in that case, should 
 turn his attention entirely to the amassing of earthly 
 treasures, would forego the best and noblest enjoy- 
 ments of which a rational mind is capable. How 
 much more, then, is this the case, when we consider 
 that we are but sojourners here, and that we are 
 travelling to another country? It is not from the 
 Avord of God only, but by the desires of nature, the 
 dictates of reason, and the properties of the mind, 
 we are informed that we are all candidates for eter- 
 nity. We know to a certainty, that there is no con- 
 tinuing here in any one stay : the things of the world 
 are in the most constant fluctuation, and man lives 
 but a few years to be pleased with the enjoyment of 
 them, or engaged in their pursuit. At the same time, 
 the high powers of reason which we possess ; our 
 great desire of knowledge, and our progressive ad- 
 vances in it; the aspirations of the soul after higher 
 attainments, and the imperfect state to which at best 
 we can arrive here, are very plain indications, that 
 we are now only laying the foundations for another 
 life, which must be happy or otherwise, according 
 to the improvement which we shall have made of 
 this. Every thing teaches us, that in this world we 
 are but in a state of probation, and, that our princi- 
 pal business and our most important interest is to 
 prepare ourselves for that whicli is to come. It is 
 impossible that the next life should be happy, if 
 the present have not been virtuous. As we sow, so 
 we must reap. The success of tlie harvest depends 
 on the putting in of the seed ; and, the blossoms of 
 the spring arc a necessary prelude to the fruits of 
 autumn. When we sec men eagerly engaged in the 
 
RELIGION THE ONE THING NEEDFUL. 107 
 
 pursuit of earthly treasures, at a time of life which 
 seems to be the best calculated for mirth and enter- 
 tainment, we cannot but think the preference e;iveu 
 to labour before pleasure to be judicious and right, 
 when we are told that it is with a view to the pro- 
 viding of a comfortable and secure retreat for the 
 wants and infirmities of advanced years. 
 
 On the other hand, an idle and dissipated youth 
 is generally considered as the very probable, if not 
 certain fore-runner of a reproaciiful and indigent 
 old age. This life, then, is to be viewed as the 
 youth, (I was going to say,) but certainly as the pre- 
 lude only, to that eternal existence which awaits 
 us hereafter. '^Vha one thing needful, then, in the 
 present life, is to secure the happiness of the next. 
 To urge tlie necessity of care and attention to the 
 necessary concerns of the present life, in order to 
 justify or palliate the neglect of religion, is to invent 
 a frivolous and unreasonable excuse against our own 
 interest. It is to separate two tilings, which the will 
 of God, and the very condition of our nature, have 
 joined togetiier, and which are perfectly consistent. 
 It is very evident, from the general tenor of the Gos- 
 pel, as indeed from the very nature of the thing, that 
 religion does not forbid, but injoin a due attention 
 to the affairs of this world ; and that it does not mar, 
 but rather has a tendency to insure the success of 
 any lawful calling. These things, then, we ought 
 to do ; but, surely, not to leave the other undone. 
 In other matters, we reason more correctly, if two 
 objects cannot both be obtained at once, we are sel- 
 dom at a loss in our conclusion, to resign that which 
 is of the least importance. It is not very common 
 
108 RELIGION THE ONE THING NEEDFUL. 
 
 to see men much engaged in religion ; but when it 
 does iiappen, how often do we bear the neglect of 
 their worldly matters charged to their account? It 
 is very possible to be too remiss, and to neglect our 
 duty in this respect ; but certainly we must be greater 
 losers, when, by an eager and unremitted pursuit of 
 earthly treasures, we neglect the more important 
 concerns of our souls and forfeit every hope of salva- 
 tion. If, then, it were so, that we could not gain this 
 world, and that which is to come, it would yet be 
 much the wiser choice to make our calling and elec- 
 tion sure. The superior importance of the soul 
 would fully justify the above conclusion, if it were 
 even true that religion was that solitary, and for the 
 present, comfortless possession, which so many seem 
 to think it is. If it imposed the necessity of resign- 
 ing every thing else, it would still be the pearl of 
 great price, the one thing needful, inasmuch as it 
 alone could procure our future and eternal happi- 
 ness : but, it is saying much more in its favor, if it 
 may with propriety be added, that it looks with a 
 benign aspect on all our worldly pursuits, and con- 
 tributes very much to the enjoyment of all that we 
 possess. As it teaches and inculcates the duties of 
 justice, temperance, labor and frugality, it seems to 
 point out the straightest road to wealtli and prefer- 
 ment. While the hand of the diligent has a ten- 
 dency to make rich, religion directs to more ex- 
 alted objects, and presents to the good man's view, 
 a more excellent inheritance. A sense of the Divine 
 presence dignifies his mind : the experience of Di- 
 vine goodness fills him with gratitude : a dependence 
 on Divine providence supports his hopes, and dis- 
 
RELIGION THE ONE THING NEEDFUL. 109 
 
 pels, or rather prevents, any apprehensions of being 
 deserted in future. David certainly considered all 
 needful blessings as included in his charter, both for 
 time and eternity, when he expressed himself in one 
 of his Psalms, in the following words : " The Lord 
 is my Shepherd; 1 shall not want. He maketh me 
 to lie down in green pastures : he leadeth me beside 
 the still waters, lea, though I walk through the 
 valley of the shadow of death, yet will I fear no 
 evil ; for, thou art with me : thy rod and thy staff, 
 they comfort me. Thou preparest a table be- 
 fore me in the presence of mine enemies ; thou 
 anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. 
 Surely, goodness and mercy shall follow me all the 
 days of my life, and 1 will dwell in the house of the 
 Lord forever." 
 
 Surely a sense of the favour of God ; the experi- 
 ence of past goodness, and a confidence in its con- 
 tinuance, cannot fail to enhance the value, and in- 
 crease the relish of every present comfort. It se- 
 cures from the restlessness of fierce, and from the 
 anguish of distp pointed ambition ; for, it makes the 
 rich man humble. It prevents the forebodings of 
 adversity, and renders him far superior to fruitless 
 murmurs and complaints ; it makes the poor man 
 thankful ; it enlivens the pleasures and alleviates the 
 burdens of every situation in life ; it cheers our 
 abode upon earth ; it softens the bed of death ; it 
 gives us a passport to Heaven. If, then, we would 
 secure the happiness of the present life ; if, as we 
 often hear, we would strew the way over with flow- 
 ers, we must engage in its pursuits with moderation, 
 
110 ON ANGER. 
 
 and season its enjoyments with religion ; while this 
 course is recommended by the superior motive, that 
 it leads to everlasting happiness. 
 
 ON ANGER. 
 
 " The discretion of a man deferreth Ms anger, and 
 it is his glory to jJuss over a transgression,^' 
 
 Proverbs, 19th chap. 1st verse. 
 
 The experience of almost every man will, no 
 doubt, have evinced the error and inconvenience of 
 a hasty spirit. Anger and passion are ever evil 
 counsellors. Often perverting, and always aggra- 
 vating the truth, (if 1 may so speak,) they urge men 
 on to unreasonable and excessive resentments, which 
 often prove ruinous to others, beyond the power of 
 remedy, and to themselves, the inexhaustible source 
 of the most painful sensations. Incompetent judges 
 of the measure of injury received, and over-looking 
 the rational means of redress, their effects are sel- 
 dom such as escape the censure of regret and of cool 
 reflection. Hence, it is the part of discretion in a 
 man, to defer his anger. '^ Anger" is said to " rest 
 in the bosom of fools ;" but, he that is wise, will by 
 
ON ANGER. Ill 
 
 all means endeavour to suppress its emotions ; will 
 listen with caution and distrust to its suggestions, 
 and will, at any rate, defer the execution of its 
 plans. 
 
 To enumerate some of its baneful effects, and pro- 
 pose some considerations which may have a tenden- 
 cy to overcome it, are the objects which I have in 
 view at present. Perhaps it is proper, first to ob- 
 serve, that anger, in a certain degree, is not con- 
 sidered criminal. God himself is represented in 
 Scripture as being angry : and this direction isgi>en 
 even to us, "i5e ye angry and sin not.^' By this 
 we are to understand, probably, the marked displea- 
 sure with which God beholds iniquity, and which 
 it ought also to excite in us. But, the sense in which 
 1 am now to consider it, and in which 1 suppose it 
 is intended in the text, is the same that we general- 
 ly understand by quick resentments, or hasty pas- 
 sions. 
 
 1. If it were attended with no other effect than 
 the perturbation and distraction of mind which it 
 occasions, it would, in this view, demand our seri- 
 ous attention. If it be true that the countenance is 
 an index of the mind, which is pretty generally the 
 case, we may be assured, that he is in a state of 
 wildness, disorder and uneasiness, in whom anger is 
 permitted to bear the sway. The representation of 
 the furies, in Heathen Mythology, must have been 
 taken, one would imagine, from the countenance of 
 a choleric man. lleason and judgment are dethron- 
 ed, the reins are thrown upon the neck of passion, 
 and the man is caiTicd away into every absurdity 
 and extravagance through its resistless impetuosity. 
 
112 ON ANGER. 
 
 It gives no time for reflection ; it lias no prudence 
 as its guide. It discards the ties of nature : it is an 
 out-law against the rules of politeness : it violently 
 outrages the laws of society. The rational charac- 
 ter is degraded and the judgment is impaired by the 
 dominion of passionate anger, which is emphatical- 
 ly said in the book of Proverbs, to be outrageous. 
 It distorts all the features of the face, and gives to 
 the eye a terrible aspect. It is justly said of anger, 
 that it is a transient madness. He that is under its 
 influence is not at his own command, but at the mer- 
 cy of every blind and violent impulse. A man in 
 the heat of passion, is not open to the conviction of 
 truth, except it be only to increase his rage. Hence, 
 he is deaf to the remonstrances of reason ; and in 
 debate, he answers argument with invectives. When 
 his anger is once kindled, he is no longer master of 
 himself, but unhappily is made a wretched slave to 
 his irascible temper. 
 
 This grow ing upon him by every indulgence, soon 
 ac(piires an absolute controul, and sets every rea- 
 sonable consideration at defiance. It is often not to 
 be soothed even by concession ; but yields only to 
 the fatigues of nature, when its victim sinks down 
 into an unhappy debility both of body and mind. 
 It resembles the fury of an angry tempest, which is 
 not to be appeased but by being exhausted. 
 
 2. Again, the feuds and animosities which fre- 
 quently obtain amongst neighbors and friends ; and 
 all their mischievous effects, originate for the most 
 part, from hasty and uncontroled anger. It magni- 
 fies every trivial ofi'ence, and precludes, at the same 
 time, all reasonable accommodation. There is a 
 
ON ANGER. 113 
 
 sympathy in human nature in almost every instance. 
 A soft answer turneth away Avrath ; but hasty re- 
 sentments commonly provoke the same. Hence, 
 while violence and passion exaggerate every trifling 
 offence, or perhaps, create them where none were 
 intended, they impart the same spirit also to the 
 real or supposed aggressor, and prevent such con- 
 cessions as his faults might demand, or reason would 
 accept. Hence are men liurried on to extremities 
 at once, without prudence or discretion. To this 
 cause, almost all the petty strifes and quarrels which 
 obtain amongst men, owe their original. Hence fre- 
 quently wars arise amongst nations ; and hence, the 
 boastful sons of courage take the field for single com- 
 bat. They call it honor; but, if you examine it 
 narrowly, and trace it to its source, you will find it 
 to proceed from the impetuosity and madness of a 
 quick and inflammable temper. If you enquire why 
 the doughty champions are equipped with the im- 
 plements of death and thirst for each other's blood, 
 you will find, perhaps, that but the day before they 
 were cordial friends, and that the unhappy differ- 
 ence arose from some unguarded, or misconstrued 
 expression, or from some innocent jocularity, over 
 the intoxicating bowl. Did they take time to re- 
 flect, or defer their anger for a moment, all would 
 be well. But, intoxicated at once with the liquor 
 and with rage; taking fire at the phantom of an 
 heated imagination ; too blind to distinguish, too im- 
 patient to deliberate, and too hasty to admit of de- 
 fence or palliation, they provoke each other to the 
 last extremity, from which their honor, as they ima- 
 gine, forbids them to recede. The last conclusioa 
 
 15 
 
114 ON ANGER. 
 
 is neither judicious nor rational, but it leads me to 
 observe, how often it happens, that men under the 
 influence of passion, will utter reproaches, or com- 
 mit acts of violence, which are not to be remedied or 
 atoned for through tlie whole course of their lives. 
 Many a friend has been estranged forever by a has- 
 ty, intemperate and groundless invective. A neigh- 
 bour, in a gust of passion, will destroy both the life 
 of his neighbor and the support and happiness of his 
 family. A choleric master will often maim or slay a 
 servant by an unlucky blow; and by the same means, 
 a parent, through the instigation of passion, will 
 destroy the intellects of an innocent and promising 
 child. Indeed, when anger is indulged without dis- 
 cretion or control, no man can tell where it will end, 
 or what tragical events will not ensue. He cannot 
 say to the raging tide, thus far shalt thou go and no 
 farther. The consequences with which it is often 
 attended, are such as is not in our power to redress 
 as long as wc live. We may feel, indeed, the most 
 lively regret, and profess or experience a great deal 
 of sorrow, but all our compunctions will be insuffi- 
 cient to dry up the sorrows of the widow or orphan, 
 or restore to life a deceased friend, whom our vio- 
 lence has brought low. We may wish we had de- 
 ferred our anger, and be convinced that it would 
 have been our glory to pass over a transgression, 
 but tills is all too late, after we have vented our pas- 
 sion in fury and destruction. 
 
 No serious person can reflect on the growing 
 practice of duelling, but with sincere regret. It is 
 a sad mark of the prevalence of infidelity in the ri- 
 sing generation, who seem unhappily to discard the 
 
ON ANGEB. 115 
 
 influence of religion, disown its authority, and re- 
 move the fear of God from before their eyes. At the 
 same time, it is one of those vices which almost 
 every body condemns, yet it is one which almost 
 nobody has the magnanimity to discountenance by 
 his own example. Surely no man has a right to 
 dispose, as he pleases, of the life which God has 
 given him ; and his command is, ^' Thou shalt not 
 kill.'- The laws of civil society, too, forbid a man 
 to be his own avenger. But, then, the Avorld will 
 call you coward, if you refuse to give or to accept a 
 challenge ; and, as long as you are in the world, you 
 must conform to the laws of honor. Indeed ! And 
 is it come to this, that a decree of Heaven's High 
 Chancery is to be reversed by an appeal to your 
 petty court of honor ! ! O ! thoughtless, desperate 
 young man. You are not afraid of oifending God, 
 but you are afraid of incurring the displeasure, or 
 exciting the ridicule of a fantastic, sinful world. I 
 pray you, can your court protect you against the 
 sentence of that High Tribunal, at which you must 
 at last appear, and against the vengeance of the Al- 
 mighty, which ^^ burns hotter than an oven.^' 
 
 It is at best, a serious, solemn thing to die ; but, 
 surely it must be the height of madness, guilt and 
 desperation, to rush into the presence of your Great 
 Judge, with your guilty hands reeking with your 
 own blood, by an act, the very perpetration of which, 
 might preclude all possibility of repentance. 
 
 In every point of view, this practice is wholly un- 
 justifiable and inexcusable in the young. But, when 
 an amiable man, advanced in years, falls unhappily 
 a victim to this wretched point of honor, who can 
 
116 ON ANGER. 
 
 sufficiently reprobate it, or bewail its consequences? 
 An instance of this kind lately occurred in Hanover, 
 where you may, indeed, behold a house of mourn- 
 ing. Go now, then, ye honorable men ; go, view 
 the melancholy feat your valour has achieved. Go, 
 feast on carnage. Go, enjoy the pleasure; nay, 
 revel in the luxury of beholding the widow whose 
 husband you have slain, at once frantic and dumb 
 with grief, and a large number of unoffending chil- 
 dren, sons and daughters, in a moment rendered 
 fatherless, by one hasty, wicked, cruel, irrevocable 
 deed. If this be honor, " 0.' my soul, come not 
 thou into the secret.^^ 
 
 But, what is to be said of these subordinate cham- 
 pions who are called seconds ? The law of the land, 
 I believe, considers them equally guilty with their 
 principals, and has ordained for them the same ig- 
 nominious punishments ; yet, all things considered, 
 they appear, in reality, to be far the most culpable. 
 A second has no offence to complain of; no irrita- 
 tion to plead in his excuse : and, on this account, 
 he may, probably, be pronounced more a murderer 
 than the principal himself. But, I must return from 
 this digression. 
 
 3. Another certain effect of intemperate anger, is 
 the self-condemnation and regret with which it is 
 always succeeded. Like all other vices, it leaves a 
 sting behind it. When the violent agitation of mind 
 subsides, and calm reflection takes place, we recol- 
 lect what has passed with the most uneasy sensa- 
 tions. We review with mortification and abhor- 
 rence, the spectacle we exhibited while under the 
 dominion of passion. We are sensible that we have 
 
ON ANGEK. 117 
 
 degraded the rational character ; that we have ex- 
 posed ourselves to the pity of our friends, the scoffs 
 of our enemies, and the contempt of the wise and 
 temperate. We recollect the wildness of our looks, 
 and the childish extravagance of our words and ac- 
 tions. When in the moment of cool reflection, we 
 consider the cause of all this disorder, we find the 
 offence which the heat of passion had magnified so 
 much, is dwindled into a very trifle ; or, perhaps 
 there was none at all, but what was occasioned by 
 our own mistakes. Yet, we are mortified to find 
 that we suffered ourselves to be transported with 
 rage ; and, very probably, to our utter confusion 
 that we have vented it indiscriminately, on friend 
 and foe ; on the offending and inoffensive ; on the 
 innocent and guilty. We have traduced the cha- 
 racter and estranged the affections of a steadfast 
 friend, by hasty insinuations which anger suggested, 
 and at the same time discredited. We have wound- 
 ed the feelings, or abused the person of a faithful 
 servant, who had been guilty of no wilful offence, 
 who had toiled for us many years, and was grown 
 grey in our service. And what was the offence ? 
 Why, perhaps no other than the natural slowness 
 or decrepitude of advanced years. We forgot the 
 respect and denied the indulgence which are due to 
 age ; and were lost to every sense of gratitude for 
 the fidelity and services of youthful days. In our 
 families we have acted the tyrant, and have made 
 our helpless and unoffending children feel the fierce- 
 ness of our anger. It is a painful task which is de- 
 volved on parents, to inflict the rod upon their chil- 
 dren, when reason and duty make it necessary. — 
 
118 ON ANGER. 
 
 What, then, must be the sensations of a man, when, 
 after a fit of rage, he casts his eye upon a dutiful and 
 affectionate child, smarting under the undeserved or 
 excessive correction of an angry father? In short, 
 we are obliged to condemn almost every thing we 
 said and every thing we did. All that we can say 
 is, we hope to be forgiven, because we were in a 
 passion ; when, if the plea were admitted, we could 
 not forgive our own folly and madness. Thus is 
 the choleric man successively at variance, at first 
 with others, and at last with himself. 
 
 II. I come now to offer some considerations that 
 may assist us in our endeavours to correct this dan- 
 gerous evil. 
 
 1. The cultivation of humility is specially calcu- 
 lated to effect this purpose. We are extremely prone 
 to entertain a fond and partial opinion of ourselves, 
 and to look for such indications of respect and obei- 
 sance as we may consider as an acknowledgment of 
 it from others. Hence, we are vulnerable from every 
 quarter. Our sensibility is tender to the smallest 
 indignity, and the least neglect is tortured into an 
 indirect affront. Every instance of this kind, is ag- 
 gravated far beyond the demerifc of the thing itself, 
 by the high sense we entertain of our own impor- 
 tance. Humility, on the other hand, is slow to 
 anger ; it is modest and unassuming. If overlook- 
 ed by others, it is not discomposed, because it ex- 
 acts nothing from them. It is contented with a lit- 
 tle, aid is not suspicious. And, as it is least affect- 
 ed by neglect or injury, so it is, also, our surest de- 
 fence against both. 
 
ON ANGER. 119 
 
 All seem rather concerned to honor, than reproach ; 
 to exalt, than depress the meek and lowly man. — 
 They say to him in their hearts, " Friend, come up 
 higher J' It, is, therefore, an excellent advice which 
 is given us in Scripture, not to be high-minded, nor 
 to think more highly of ourselves than we ought to 
 think. 
 
 2. It will also prove a security against the sallies 
 of intemperate anger, to accustom ourselves to medi- 
 tate frequently on its dangerous tendency and its ex- 
 treme inutility. It is generally productive of the 
 most serious evils ; and, on the other hand, it an- 
 swers no good purpose whatever. It does not in- 
 crease, but diminish the dignity of our character : 
 it does not increase, but diminish the weight of our 
 authority. If any purpose is to be accomplished ; 
 if differences are to be accommodated, or redress ob- 
 tained, to be calm and temperate, promises the most 
 certain and complete success. Outrageous anger, 
 on the other hand, is sure to defeat its own intentions, 
 and makes matters infinitely worse than they were 
 before. At the same time, it exposes us to the ridi- 
 cule and contempt of the world. When a man has 
 once established his character as peevish and pas- 
 sionate, he meets with a thousand wanton provoca- 
 tions from others, who practise upon his temper for 
 their own amusement. They will "use him for 
 their mirth, yea, for their laughter, when he is was- 
 pish." On the other hand, a command of temper, 
 which is more or less in every person's pow er, adds 
 a dignity to his character, and procures very general 
 esteem. 
 
120 ON ANGEU. 
 
 3. It will contribute much to the acquiring of a 
 dominion over passion, to fix a resolution that we 
 will not be under its control. If, on former occa- 
 sions, we have been in a ferment of temper, we no 
 doubt have recollected afterwards many extravagan- 
 ces both in words and actions which we must can- 
 didly condemn. It is the part of a sensible and pru- 
 dent man to determine in future to be more upon his 
 guard. Nor is it so difficult a matter as some would 
 imagine. Experience in many instances has evin- 
 ced, that the most hasty and refractory temper will 
 yield to resolute and steady discipline. By the mere 
 aid of philosophy, men who w ere naturally quick 
 and vehement, have, by habit and restraint, acquired 
 such an evenness of mind, that their natural temper 
 has not been known but by their own confession. 
 To say we cannot help it, is to invent an excuse to 
 encourage and defend it. Men who have habituated 
 themselves to swearing profanely, have often said 
 the same; yet, we know that many, from a conside- 
 ration of its folly and wickedness, in their cooler 
 moments, have desisted from it entu*ely. With re- 
 spect to passion, we know that we can restrain it, in 
 the company of those whose good opinion we count 
 upon having obtained, and would wish to preserve. 
 This shows, then, that it is not invincible, but that 
 it yields to the umpire of reason and good sense. 
 By a little discipline and fortitude, we may become 
 in private what we would appear in public ; for, by 
 these, the most refractory spirit will become tame 
 and manageable. It is most certain, that the more 
 we indulge or excuse our anger, the more it will in- 
 
ON ANGER. 121 
 
 crease upon us. It grows the more outrageous the 
 oftener it is kindled, and upon every fresh occasion, 
 it will be the more easily excited. Let us only in- 
 dulge it a little, and it will soon bring us to that 
 pass, that we shall fume and fret at every trifle. — 
 In this view, it may be compared to tinder, which 
 is the more inflammable, for having once been burnt. 
 If, then, when anger begins to rise, we fix a resolu- 
 tion to suppress it, we shall find, to our satisfaction, 
 that the work is already more than half accomplish- 
 ed. And, indeed, it is so troublesome and torment- 
 ing, that it is worth a little pains to overcome it. 
 
 4. It will be of singular benefit, also, to reflect on 
 the infirmities of human nature, and especially to 
 entertain a due sense of our own. Many things that 
 we call oflFences proceed oftener from the weakness 
 of others, than from any malevolent design. How 
 often do we offer it as an apology for our own in- 
 discretions, that we meant no harm? Ought we not 
 then, in all reason and justice, to extend to others 
 the same indulgence that we claim to ourselves? — 
 But, the passionate and angry man sees no imper- 
 fections in himself. He is always in the right, and 
 his wrath often rises to a most excessive degree from 
 this very mistaken notion; when, at the same time, 
 perhaps, he is the greatest aggressor. My brethren, 
 are any of us without our faults ? Do we never do 
 any thing that appears unfriendly? Do we never say 
 any thing that seems disrespectful? Do we never 
 act amiss through mere ignorance or inattention? 
 And this may often be the case with others. The 
 thing which we resent with violence and outrage, 
 may have been said or done without the least iuten- 
 
 16 
 
122 ON ANGER. 
 
 tion to injure or offend us. Surely, if we would 
 but consider our own numberless imperfections, we 
 would not let our anger burn so fiercely against the 
 failings of our neighl)ors and friends. 
 
 5. 1 shall propose one other consideration, and 
 then conclude. It is to fix our eyes upon those ex- 
 amples of patience and moderation which others 
 have exhibited. Amidst all the infirmities of man, 
 we now and then find some, whose calm and steady 
 temper we cannot but admire. They have been 
 falsely accused, or received much reproachful and 
 abusive language; yet, they bore it with great 
 coolness ; they vindicated their innocence with 
 great firmness, but with great coolness ; they did 
 not suffer their temper to be ruffled, nor one in- 
 decent expression to escape their lips. Such cha- 
 racters rise high in our esteem. We say they 
 acted much better than we should have done. — 
 We wish we had the same command of our pas- 
 sions. Well, they very probably acquired the com- 
 mand of their's by the very considerations which I 
 have been suggesting. And it is not impracticable. 
 With a little pains and prudence, we might do the 
 same. But, above all, let professing Christians turn 
 their eyes to that great pattern of all excellence, the 
 Lord Jesus Christ. He has left an example after 
 which we should follow. His temper was tried by 
 the most frequent provocations, the most repeated 
 disappointments, the most flagrant injuries, and the 
 most severe distress ; yet, with what patience did he 
 endure the contradictions of sinners ? He returned 
 not evil for evil, nor railing for railing. When he 
 was reviled, he reviled not again. With such a 
 
THE GOSPEL RULE. 123 
 
 bright example, then, before our eyes, let us all en- 
 deavor to learn of him, for he was meek and lowly. 
 Let us implore tiie assistance of his grace, so need- 
 ful for us in all cases, that we may be enabled, also, 
 to defer our anger and account it our glory to pass 
 over transsrression. 
 
 THE GOSPEL RULE. 
 
 *^ Therefore, all things whatsoever ye would that 
 men should do to you, do ye even so to them.'' 
 
 Matthew, 7th chap. I2th verse- 
 
 Although it is most evidently the duty of every 
 rational creature to yield an obedience to the com- 
 mandments of his Creator, yet, it is hard to say, from 
 the nature of the commandments themselves, wheth- 
 er a compliance with, and a strict observance of 
 them, is more his duty or his interest. Notwithstand- 
 ing the many defects which men pretend to have dis- 
 covered in the revelation of God, this at least appears 
 to be one recommendation of it, that no man can ob- 
 serve its precepts without, at the same time^ promot- 
 ing his own advantage. If it be entirely reasonable, 
 that the Glory of God, the Creator of all things, 
 should be advanced, it is surely a happy considera- 
 tion that the performance of this duty should not 
 only be altogether consistent with, but directly condu- 
 cive to, the happiness of his creatures. On this ground 
 
124 THE GOSPEL RULE. 
 
 alone independently of the promises of future re- 
 ward to the obedient, it is expressly declared, that 
 the seed of Jacob shall not seek God's face in vain, 
 and that no man shall serve the Lord for nought. 
 And the Psalmist must have been impressed with 
 this sentiment, when he declared, "Great peace 
 have they that love thy law, and in keeping thy 
 commandments there is great reward." In this, 
 most certainly he had in view, not barely or chiefly 
 the happiness which a religious life conducts to here- 
 after, but the pleasure and advantage with which it 
 is at present accompanied : not only for, but " in 
 keeping thy commandments, there is great reward." 
 If this be true in any instance, it seems to be most 
 obviously so with respect to the precept which is 
 contained in our text. Or, if the commandments of 
 God were, in all other instances, grievous, yet this 
 must be acknowledged to be an exception : '^ All 
 things whatsoever ye would that men should do to 
 you, do ye even so to them." 
 
 To point out the excellency of this rule, and to 
 recommend it to our practice, are the objects at which 
 I shall aim in the progress of this discourse. With 
 this view, 1 shall consider it first, with regard 
 to its qualities ; and, secondly, with regard to its 
 effects. 
 
 In inquiring, then, of what kind is this rule ? 
 We observe, in the first place, that it is of such a 
 nature as to establish a connexion between the ob- 
 ligation of a man's duty and the promotion of his 
 happiness. It seems to take advantage of that sel- 
 fishness of principle which often prevails too far, 
 and makes it one's interest to do tliat which is right. 
 
THE GOSPEL RULE. 125 
 
 It produces a happy reciprocity of good oflBces be- 
 tween maa and man, and engages each in the ser- 
 vice of all the rest, though his views should be con- 
 fined and his endeavours directed to his own advan- 
 tage. It places a man in the situation of his neigh- 
 bour, and obliges him to do good, from the hope and 
 expectation of receiving it. It enforces the obliga- 
 tion and procures the discharge of all the duties of 
 justice, benevolence and mercy, by establishing a 
 claim upon a like return. For the same reason, 
 and in conformity to the same principle, it forbids 
 and prevents the, commission of what is hurtful or 
 unfriendly, inasmuch as a man would not wish that 
 himself should be surrounded by enemies, or over- 
 reached by fraud. At the same time that it marks 
 the duty and coincides with the inclinations of the 
 conscientious man, it disarms the hand of violence, 
 and arrests the designs of injustice. It not only 
 stays the execution of both, but converts them by 
 maturer reflection, into the opposite virtues. 
 
 Another quality that this rule possesses, is the 
 most amiable simplicity. This quality renders it 
 the more agreeable, and at the same time, the more 
 useful ; the more agreeable by corresponding with 
 the true elegance of taste, and the more useful, by 
 prescribing, with plainness and accuracy, the path 
 of duty. It is sometimes objected against Divine 
 Revelation, that it abounds in masteries. If it be 
 so, which I pretend not to deny, it is only in things 
 which we are obliged to believe ; but, in no instance 
 in those which we are required to perform. 
 
 In the science of theology, there are some things 
 mysterious, but, in the practical parts of it, there is 
 
126 THE GOSPEL, RULE. 
 
 no obscurity. The path of duty is plain and straight, 
 and tlie language of Scripture is, " This is the way, 
 walk ye in it." If this be true of the precepts of the 
 Gospel in general, it is especially so of our text in 
 particular. The rule is drawn in characters so per- 
 spicuous, that he who runs may read it. Its sim- 
 plicity is attractive to the most reiined genius, and 
 its import obvious to the most humble capacity. It 
 is equally intelligible to the most improved and the 
 most illiterate. Or, instead of saying it may be un- 
 derstood, we may rather say, that it cannot be other- 
 wise. It is neither involved in the mysteries of sci- 
 ence, nor perplexed by the terms of art : but, being 
 intended for direction to all, it is so simple in its 
 style, and so plain in its construction, that no man 
 can possibly misinterpret its meaning, mistake its 
 application, or evade its force. Its plainness con- 
 tributes very much to its utility, while the benefit of 
 it is the more readily acquired and the more exten- 
 sively diffused by its great simplicity. 
 
 3. Another quality that enters into the character 
 of this rule is, that it is always invariable in its ap- 
 plication. I mean by this, that as it is not to be mis- 
 taken in its meaning, so neither can it be perverted 
 in its use. With respect to many other of the Di- 
 vine precepts, an attempt is often made to wrest their 
 meaning or elude their force, not because they are 
 themselves obscure, but in order to procure an in- 
 dulgence for men's favourite vices, or to palliate, 
 perhaps to justify too great an attachment to their 
 worldly interest. How often does it happen, that 
 the prohibition of one evil, has been improved by the 
 ingenuity of men, into a sanction for another, or at 
 
THE GOSPEL RULE. 127 
 
 least into an excuse for it ? Under pretence, for in- 
 stance, of avoiding covetousness, we indulge our- 
 selves in the opposite extreme of profusion and 
 waste. On the other hand, the lawfulness of riches, 
 and the injunction to provide " things honest in the 
 sight of all men," have been made to countenance 
 an inordinate desire of worldly acquisitions, and an 
 unbecoming, or unlawful eagerness in their pursuit. 
 Under love of charity for our neighbour, we indulge 
 our own licentiousness of principles, and under pre- 
 tence of being just, we become unmerciful, rigorous 
 and oppressive to the necessitous and poor : and, 
 as this is frequently the case, with the duties of our 
 relative situation to one another, the same measure 
 is also dealt out to those which have respect imme- 
 diately to God. 
 
 << Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all 
 thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy 
 mind," is the first and great command. It is rea- 
 sonable in itself, and every one understands it; 
 yet, this is made to warrant the exercise of cru- 
 elty and hatred to our fellow-men, whom we are 
 pleased to consider as his foes. The Apostle 
 Paul himself once thought, he did God service 
 by persecuting his Saints. There is nothing more 
 rational and commendable than a becoming zeal for 
 religion ; yet, under pretence of this, more blood 
 has been shed in the world, and more cruelties com- 
 mitted, than on any other account whatever. It 
 fares not thus with the rule in question : its design 
 is to regulate and enforce the moral obligations of 
 man to man, and is in no case liable to abuse or 
 misapplication. That partiality for one's-self, and 
 
128 THE GOSPEL RULE. 
 
 that regard to private interest, which make a person 
 pervert or violate most others of the commands of 
 God, hecome parties in the cause of this, and join 
 in enforcins; its observance. If, therefore, it were 
 but attended to, it would make a man honest, out 
 of very knavery, (if I may use the ex[)ression,) al- 
 lowing him to be destitute of any better prin» iple. 
 4. Another quality of this rule, which presents 
 itself to our view, is this, that there is in it the ut- 
 Biost conciseness, with the utmost fulness. 1 join 
 these two together, because neither of them would 
 be very remarkable, without the concurrence of the 
 other. It would be no great recommendation of it, 
 if shortness were counterbalanced by obscurity, or 
 fulness by prolixity. But, it is one of its excellencies, 
 that it is short without any deficiency, and replete 
 with instruction without any redundance. There 
 is nothing in it that is not necessary, and nothing 
 omitted that would have been an improvement. It 
 is itself a compendium of the whole system of mor- 
 als, and a complete and perfect rule of conduct in 
 every situation. It is so general as to comprehend 
 all cases, and yet so special as to apply, particular- 
 ly, to each. It is a general rule without exception, 
 and a special rule without restriction. It is so ex- 
 cellent, as to attract universal admiration, and yet 
 so obviously just, that any man would almost sup- 
 pose he could himself have laid it down. Yet, the 
 wisest of men and the greatest philosophers were 
 not able to discover it. Their systems of ethicks 
 consisted, partly of worldly maxims, and partly of 
 abstruse and metaphysical reasonings. And, hence 
 it has happened, that some of them have been them- 
 
THE GOSPEL RULE. 129 
 
 Selves unjust, and some of them to common capaci- 
 ties wholly unintelligible. Some of them indeed 
 have reflected honor upon their authors for their jus- 
 tice and equity ; but yet they have been exceptiona- 
 ble in this, that they have been so exclusively 
 adapted, and so much rfcstricted to particular cases, 
 as not to be calculated for cominon use. Men have 
 been as much at a loss to find out the application of 
 the rule, as they would have been to act without 
 any rule at all. But it is truly said of our blessed 
 Saviour, that " he spake as never man spake. He 
 spake as one having authority." There is more 
 contained in this short, this plain, this golden rule of 
 the great teacher, than in all the volumes that the 
 world contains. In comparison of this, the philo- 
 sophy of the world is foolishness. In these few 
 words, " as ye would that men should do to you, do 
 ye even so to them," he may with propriety be said 
 to enlighten every man that cometh into the world. 
 It is a great recommendation of useful books, that 
 ^hey are easy of acquisition, and that they are por- 
 table. What then must be said of this short and 
 comprehensive rule, when it is considered, that he 
 who has the Gospel, or who retains in memory the 
 12th verse of the 7th chap, of Matthew, carries with 
 him a complete and perfect rule to guide and direct 
 the conduct of man to man in every circumstance, 
 and in all the relations of life ? So various are the 
 connexions, and so multiplied the demands, and so 
 different are the situations of men in society, that to 
 ascertain the rule of duty for every particular case, 
 if this were possible, would be to fill the world with 
 books : and indeed the whole world would not con- 
 
 17 
 
130 THE GOSPEL RULE. 
 
 tain them. But this short comprehensive rule is iii 
 the place of a thousand volumes. It makes a man 
 at once a master of the subject ; it acquaints him ful- 
 ly with the rule of his duty, because it places him- 
 self in the very situation to which it is to be applied. 
 
 5. I shall mention but o/ie otlier property which 
 this rule possesses, and that is, that it is unlimited in 
 its extent, and universal in its operation. There is no 
 instance in the course of life to which it is not ap- 
 plicable, and in which it does not administer instruc- 
 tion. It embraces all cases that occur, all contin- 
 gencies that may happen, and all relations that sub- 
 sist between man and man. It clearly defines the 
 duties of superiors, equals, and inferiors : I mean 
 superiors on account of public oflBce, and inferiors 
 in consequence of accidental distinctions. It teach- 
 es the duties and enforces the obligations of rich and 
 poor, white and black, neighbours and aliens, friends 
 and foes, those who are appointed to rule, and those 
 ■who appoint them. 
 
 1 am aware, that some have thought they descried 
 an exception to the rule, in attempting the applica- 
 tion of it to the civil magistrate. This is in the 
 case of pronouncing sentence against a criminal : 
 and it is stated, that as the magistrate would not 
 wish to die himself, he would be bound up by this 
 rule from passing sentence of death upon another. 
 Many things might be said in answer to tbis ; but 
 suffice it to say, that in all such cases, he acts in an 
 official, and not in his individual capacity. The 
 objection contemplates the magistrate, not the man, 
 and it is to the latter only that the rule is intended to 
 apply. To the latter, under all the badges of office, 
 
THE GOSPEL RULE. 13l 
 
 this rule will vstill find access. It will teach him to for- 
 bear all unnecessary severties, to extend every law- 
 ful indulgence, and from the heart to pity the situa- 
 tion of the unhappy criminal, whom the duties of 
 his office oblige him to condemn. If in any instance 
 he delights in cruelty, and takes pleasure in inflict- 
 ing the penalties of the law, and in beholding the 
 suflPerings of the condemned, in such instance he 
 acts the man ; in such, he violates the rule ; in such, 
 he wounds the common feelings, and offers a re- 
 proach to the general character of human nature. 
 In all ordinary cases, independently on the obli- 
 gations of official character, it teaches a man to do 
 justice and to love mercy ; to hold the balance even 
 between man and man ; to redress the wrongs of the 
 aggrieved, and extend protection to the helpless, be- 
 cause he would expect and wish the same good of- 
 fices for himself, in a like situation. To relations 
 which bear some resemblance to this, 1 mean those 
 of masters and servants, the same application is to 
 be made. I have mentioned the case of inferiors, 
 in consequence of accidental distinctions : this will 
 be considered as one of those, or at least it will serve 
 to explain our meaning, when it is remembered, that 
 whilst somej in one country, are appointed to rule, 
 men of the same description, in others, will be doom- 
 ed to obey. It has been often known, that a Prince 
 in Africa, by unexpected and unavoidable events, 
 in the providence of God, has found his situation 
 reversed in America. What, then, is the measure 
 of their respective duties ? The rule in question ful- 
 ly and pointedly decides it. Do to others as you 
 would have them do to you. Let the master put 
 
132 THE GOSPEL RULE. 
 
 himself, for a moment, in the room of the servant, 
 and substitute another in his own, and he will at 
 once see, and must acknowledge the demands upon 
 himself, of justice, humanity, benevolence and mer- 
 cy. And, vice versa, on the other hand, the ser- 
 vant will be taught the indispensable obligations of 
 obedience and fidelity. It might be easily demon- 
 strated, that the rule in question extends its appli- 
 cation to all the relations of men to each other, either 
 in a state of nature, or of civilized society : to the 
 former, it supplies the place of laws ; and, to the 
 latter, it is the unerring rule of their construction, 
 and ought to be the invariable principle on which 
 they are enacted ; but, what has been said, must 
 suffice upon this head. 
 
 We will briefly consider the effects with which 
 the observance of this rule would be attended. 1 
 think 1 am not mistaken, when 1 affirm, that if this 
 simple rule were attended to, wars would cease 
 amongst nations, and strifes and contentions amongst 
 men. That hypocrisy, intrigue and fraud, which 
 are generally called the policy of nations, would, 
 ha[)pily for the world, become entirely useless, and 
 give way to justice and fair dealing. That servile 
 phraseology would soon become obsolete, which re- 
 presents a nation as superior in wisdom, merely be- 
 cause they excel in dissimulation and knavery. But, 
 truth, justiceandgood faith would universally prevail. 
 The policy of nations would be, in all cases, to deal 
 out such measure as they would wish to receive. The 
 strong would nc* more plunder and oppress the weak: 
 deception and falsehood would not be practised up- 
 on the credulous : craft would find no employment 
 
THE GOSPEL RULE. 133 
 
 in over-reaching the honest; nor would the most 
 powerful fleets and armies be construed into a right 
 to tramjde under foot, all the rights of humanity. 
 Such would be the effect of this rule upon nations ; 
 for, nations bear to each other, the relation of moral 
 persons. And, how happy would it be, for every 
 community, and every individual in it, if the rights 
 of men were respected, as our Saviour requires ? In- 
 juries of every kind would be avoided ; or, if un- 
 wittily committed, would be speedily repaired, and 
 men would dwell together in peace and harmony. 
 Friends would be more closely cemented by the 
 continual interchange of good offices : and enemies 
 would be speedily and thoroughly reconciled, by 
 being at least rendered just and placable to each 
 other. Every instance that would occur of reliev- 
 ing each other's Ox from the ditch, (to use the lan- 
 guas;e of Scripture,) would be like coals of fire 
 on their heads, to disarm their resentments and melt 
 them to terms of reconciliation and amity. 
 
134 LOT OF THE RIGHTEOUS AND WICKED. 
 
 COMMON LOT OF THE RIGHTEOUS 
 AND WICKED. 
 
 *^All things come alike to all: there is one event to 
 the TnghteouSf and to the wicked ; to the good and 
 to the clean, and to the unclean ; to him that sacri- 
 ficethf and to him that sacrijiceth not : as is the 
 good, so is the sinner ; and he that sweareth, as he 
 thatfeareth an oath.^' 
 
 EccIesiasUes, 9th chap. 2d verse 
 
 There is something, at first sight, unpromising in 
 the aspect of this subject, and a superficial view of 
 it, has been the source of great mistakes. The in- 
 discriminate lot which falls into the lap of good 
 men and of bad, has been thought to bear hard on 
 the justice of God, and to destroy the connexion 
 which Reason seems to have established betwixt 
 guilt and punishment, and virtue and reward. If 
 all thinsis happen alike to all ; if there is no differ- 
 ence ; if there be one event to the righteous and the 
 wicked, what odds does it make, to which of these 
 descriptions we belong? What profit do we re- 
 ceive from the service of God ? What loss do we 
 sustain from the practice of sin, if virtue meets with 
 cold neglect, and vice is permitted to pass with im- 
 punity ? Nay, every instance in which we see the 
 righteous dejected and the wicked prospering, which 
 is no uncommon spectacle, seems to be giving the 
 latter every advantage, and to deprive the former of 
 
LOT OF THE RIGHTEOUS AND WICKED. 135 
 
 all encouragement. Such is the appearance which 
 it wears, and such, indeed, has been the effect of it 
 in every age of the world. 
 
 The wicked have been hardened in their sins by 
 the forbearance of God, and turned his goodness 
 into licentiousness. They say, exultingly ''God 
 careth not for it." Experience hath abundantly 
 vindicated the observation of the Prophet, *' Because 
 judgment against an evil work is not speedily exe- 
 cuted, the heart of man is set in him to do evil con- 
 tinually." And this has not only been a cause of 
 vaunting to such as had thrown off' the fear of God. 
 It has been the subject of complaint also to men of 
 piety and virtue. " Righteous art thou ! Lord," 
 says the Prophet Jeremiah, ** when I plead with 
 thee : yet, let me talk with thee of thy judgments * 
 Wherefore doth the way of the wicked prosper? 
 Wherefore are "all they happy that deal very 
 treacherously ?" 
 
 This also seems to have been the frequent subject 
 of the Psalmist's meditations, and he speaks of it in 
 the most plaintive strains. In the 73d Psalm, he 
 delineates the character of the wicked, and describes 
 their lot. '* They are not in trouble," says he, "as 
 other men, neither are they plagued like other men. 
 Therefore pride compasseth them about as a chain, 
 violence covereth them as a garment. They have 
 more than heart could wish. They set their mouth 
 against the Heavens, and their tongue walketh 
 through the earth. And they say how doth God 
 know ? And is there knowledge in the most High ?" 
 Such is the character which he gives them. It is an 
 unfavourable one, indeed, and does not seem to merit 
 
136 LOT OF THE RIGHTEOUS AND WICKED. 
 
 many tokens of favour from God. But in tbe next 
 verse the Psalmist says, " Behold these are the un- 
 godly who prosper in the world ; they increase in 
 riches. " Verily," says he, " I have cleansed my 
 heart in vain, and washed my hands in innocency : 
 For all the day lonij; have I been plagued and chas- 
 tened every morning." Laying aside the peevish- 
 ness which the Psalmist discovered on the occasion ; 
 this seems to be a natural conclusion. But if we 
 attend him a little further, we will find the whole 
 mystery unravelled in a satisfactory manner. — 
 ^* When I thought to know this," says he, " it was 
 too painful to me. Until I went into the sanctuary of 
 God ; then understood 1 their end. Surely thou 
 didst sit them in slippery places ; thou casledest them 
 down into destruction." For the support of this 
 truth, I am not now concerned. But bearing in 
 mind, that if it be ill with the righteous on earth, 
 it will not always be the case ; and if it be well 
 with the wicked, it will not be so long ; let us en- 
 deavour to account for the mixed state of good and 
 evil in the human lot. This is the immediate ob- 
 ject of the present discourse, which 1 shall endea- 
 vour to pursue, not as a matter of speculation, but 
 from a desire of vindicating the ways of God to 
 men, and of administering some satisfaction to such 
 of his people as may have been tempted by the pre- 
 sent situation of affairs to doubt his tenderness and. 
 regard for them. In entering upon tiiis enquiry, it 
 is proper to premise, that evils of every kind which 
 we are called to endure, are the effects of sin. We 
 are informed " that at first the generations of the earth 
 were healthful, and there waS no poison of destruc- 
 
LOT OF THE RIGHTEOUS AND WICKED. 137 
 
 tion in tliem." Sin, therefore, was tlie inlet to every 
 other evil. Justice would require that perfect ia- 
 nocence should be exempted from suffering, but our 
 iniquities have made it necessary that we should 
 be visited with the rod. It should therefore recon- 
 cile the children of God to their keenest affliction, 
 if affliction be their lot : it should hush their com- 
 plaints, and silence every murmur, to reflect that 
 if they are sufferers, they are still greater sinners. 
 "Whoever will seriously consider how much he has 
 offended, will rather wonder how little he lias suf- 
 fered, than complain how much ; and be obliged to 
 acknowledge that his punishment is far less than his 
 iniquities have deserved. Are any under the pres- 
 sure of calamity, ready to conclude that God has 
 for2;ottea them in their affliction ? Let them call to 
 mind how often in their prosperity, they have for- 
 gotten him. In him they live, and move, and have 
 their being ; from him they derive all the mercies 
 which they enjoy, and every hope they entertain ; 
 and he has never been so unmindful of them, but 
 that he has protected them by his good provi- 
 dence, and upheld them by his pow er, yet under all 
 these circumstances, they have forgotten the God 
 that made them, and rendered an ungrateful return 
 for all the bounties of his providence, and the rich- 
 er blessings of his grace. Tiie children of God, 
 then, upon this supposition, have no reason to com- 
 plain, when they reflect that judgment without mix- 
 ture had been entirely just, and that all the com- 
 forts they enjoy in life, are of free and unmerited 
 grace. I do not offer these remarks, however, as a 
 solution of the difficulty which arises from the in- 
 
 18 
 
138 LOT OF THE RIGHTEOUS AND WICKED. 
 
 discriminate lot of righteous and wicked men. I 
 am sensible that they do not fully answer this pur- 
 pose ; yet they are not altogether inapplicable, as 
 they are of force, I think, to obviate any objection 
 that might be made on account of those calamities, 
 in which pious men are frequently involved. 
 
 The question still recurs, if the evils of life be 
 the effect of sin, why do the wicked escape them, 
 whilst they overwhelm the righteous ? If those who 
 fear God, and are the objects of his love, feel the 
 correction of his rod, on account of their remaining 
 corruptions, and their frequent miscarriages; why are 
 not those more severely punished who are destitute of 
 the many virtues which the Saints possess ? AVhy, 
 in short, do the former suffer, and the latter pros- 
 per ? These questions seem to involve the merits of 
 the case, as it has been generally stated. It is to 
 be observed, however, that it requires some limita- 
 tion. It does not always happen that good men 
 are punished with poverty or drowned in sorrow, 
 whilst those of the contrary character abound in 
 riches, or exult in joy. This is by no means so 
 universally the case, that we can distinguish the 
 former by his sufferings, and the latter by his suc- 
 cess. The heart of the good man sometimes sings 
 for joy, and the most successful sinner has his sea- 
 sons of outward adversity, and inward anguish. 
 But this is frequently, perhaps generally reversed. 
 We often see innocence in distress, and guilt tri- 
 umphing. We often see the good man persecuted 
 even for his religion, and the wicked crowned with 
 success by the practice of vices, which seem to call 
 for vengeance both from God and man. 
 
LOT OF THE RIGHTEOUS AND WICKED. 139 
 
 Let US then join issue upon this case, and en- 
 deavour as concisely as possible, to account for the 
 one and the other of the circumstances which com- 
 pose it. 
 
 In the first place, we would remark, that it is e\i- 
 dently not the intention of providence that this world 
 should be a place of rewards and punishments. It 
 is a state of trial, in which we are to be tr.iiued up 
 by the practice of Godliness and the exercise of pa- 
 tience, to inherit the promises of future glory. In 
 this point of view, an indiscriminate lot to good aud 
 bad, recommends itself as highly proper. V\'ere 
 God continually to interpose in behalf of his chil- 
 dren, he would leave but little room for confidence 
 in his promises, or submission to iiis will. When 
 I say this, it goes on the presumption that there is 
 to be a future state of retribution, and that this 
 world is but preparatory to the ucxt. It is the 
 character of the Christian, that he walks by faith 
 and not by sight. It is in this view, that 1 said, on 
 the supposition just mentioned, that there would be 
 no room for confidence in the promises of God ; for, 
 as the Apostle has expressed it, what a man seeih, 
 why does he yet hope for ? 
 
 There are certain duties in religion, to be per- 
 formed in this life, and progress to be made in Ho- 
 liness, in order to our being made meet for the in- 
 heritance of the Saints in light. The servants of 
 God, then, are not to expect their reward until their 
 work is done; and, for the same reason, it does not 
 seem reasonable, that the wicked should be pun- 
 ished till after sufficient trial. But, were God, on 
 all occasions, to interpose by rewards and punish- 
 
140 LOT OF THE RIGHTEOUS AND WICKED. 
 
 meats, there would seem to be less virtue in adher- 
 ing to duty or refraining from vice. A mercenary 
 disposition might lead us to the one, and servile 
 fear deter us from the other. Besides, such a dis- 
 pensation would have a tendency to obscure the 
 view and weaken the expectation of a future state. 
 Did we see men here, treated in every instance ac- 
 cording to their deserts, it would seem to supersede 
 the necessity of a final judgment, and lead us to con- 
 clude, that there was nothing better to be expected, 
 or worse to be dreaded after the present life ; where- 
 as, the present allotment, in this respect, is a direct 
 implication of the one and the other: it holds out 
 sufficient encouragement to the practice of religion, 
 and a sufficient caution against the danger of sin. 
 
 In connexion with this, let me observe, in the next 
 place, that as we are candidates for another world; 
 so the dispensations of God's providence, have a 
 special regard to the progress of sanctification in our 
 hearts, and our reformation from, and repentance of 
 sin. This, I trust, will fully account for the afflic- 
 tions of his children, and his forbearance towards 
 the wicked and profane. 
 
 If the Christians were in this life perfect in Holi- 
 ness ; if they were free from infirmities ; if tliey 
 were proof against the power of temptation and the 
 contagion of example, then there would be no occa- 
 sion lor the trials which they are called to endure, 
 nor, indeed, for any other mean of grace which tliey 
 are enjoined to use. Both Scripture and experi- 
 ence evince, that this is not the case. " If any man," 
 says our Lord, *• say he has no sin, he deceiveth 
 himself, and the truth is not in him." There are 
 
LOT OF THE RIGHTEOUS AND WICKED. 141 
 
 remainders of sin with which they must contend ; 
 they have many corruptions that must be mortifiedj 
 and often much pride that must be humbled. Even 
 his children arc prone to forget God, and in the ful- 
 ness of their prosperity to depart from his statutes. 
 To correct these errors and promote the growth of 
 Christian virtues, God has ordained various means 
 of grace ; but, those which fall under present con- 
 sideration, are the corrections which he admin- 
 isters in tlie course of his providence. No judicious 
 Christian will be surprised, that 1 have ranked these 
 amongst the means of grace, when it is considered 
 how great is their influence in weaning our affec- 
 tions from this present world, and producing the 
 virtues of patience and humility, of dutiful resigna- 
 tion to the will of God, and even of thankfulness 
 for the corrections of his rod. We know from ex- 
 perience and common observation, that it is much 
 easier to bear affliction with patience, than uninter- 
 rupted prosperity with due moderation and humili- 
 ty. The promises of the (xospel afford support in 
 adversity, which this in its turn disposes us to lay 
 hold of, whilst prosperity undermines the founda- 
 tions of virtue, weakens the sense of obligation and 
 our own insufficiency, and often produces the lofty 
 look which goes before a fall. 1 said, also, that 
 afflictions produce the acceptable offering of a thank- 
 ful heart. This, I apprehend, will appear to have 
 sufficient foundation, when it is considered, that the 
 people of God shall have the sanctified use of afflic- 
 tions, and that they will not be continued longer 
 than tiiey have answered their end. As recovery 
 from sickness convinces us of the value of health; so 
 
142 LOT OF THE RIGHTEOUS AND WICKED. 
 
 the people of God have ever been found more thank- 
 ful for deliverance from calamities of whatever kiud, 
 than they would have been for a total exemption 
 from them. 
 
 They are, therefore, greatly mistaken, who sup- 
 pose, from the unpromising aspect of affairs, that 
 God has forgotten his people ; or, tliat the afflic- 
 tions of his providence are marks of his displeasure. 
 Admitting what has been said, they are really to- 
 kens of his love and blessings in disguise ; they are 
 promised as blessings and prove so in the end. 
 " Whom the Lord loveth," says the Apostle, " he 
 chasteneth, and scourgeth e^ery son whom he re- 
 ceiveth." 
 
 Does not the tender father correct his child, that 
 he may save him from ruin, and divert him from the 
 pursuit of dangerous and destructive courses ? And, 
 is this an evidence of his neglect or hatred ? Does 
 this prove that he has no regard for him ? Does it 
 prove that he is destitute of paternal affection ? Or, 
 is it a mark of his ill will ? Surely it is not. It is 
 a certain, and to him a costly token of concern for 
 the welfare of his beloved charge. His heart melts 
 within him while he inflicts the rod : but, his child 
 is dearer to him than every other consideration, and, 
 therefore he will not give him up, but will eudea- 
 vour to save him. But if he spare the rod, it is a 
 sad symptom that the child is become incorrigible, 
 and is given up at last as altogether hopeless. God 
 also* loves his Saints. A woman may forget her 
 sucking child, sooner than he will forget them. 
 They are dear to him as the apple of his eye. Yet 
 for their good, he often finds it necessary to visit 
 
LOT OF THE RIGHTEOUS AND WICKED. 143 
 
 them with judgments, to chasten them very sore, 
 and purify them by the furnace of affliction. Who- 
 ever considers for a moment the frailty of human 
 nature, must be sensible these afflictions are neces- 
 sary, and their good effects are evident. Prosperity 
 has a hardening and stupifying influence on the 
 mind. When all things prosper we are apt to grow 
 presumptuous and elated, to be lulled into a dange- 
 rous security, and the forgetfulness of God. But 
 when we are blessed with seasonable corrections, 
 before the repeated commission of wickedness shall 
 have hardened our hearts, we are brought to con- 
 sider the error of our ways, to be humbled under a 
 sense of our manifold sins, and to turn us unto the 
 testimonies of God. Such was the happy effect that 
 it produced in Job, after many conflicts with his 
 Maker on account of his judgments. " Behold I am 
 vile," says he, "what shall I answer thee? I will 
 lay mine hand upon my mouth. Once have I spo- 
 ken, but I will not answer : yea, twice, but 1 will 
 proceed no further." Job 40. 4, 5. Such also was 
 the acknowledgment of the Psalmist David. "It 
 was good for me that I was afflicted, for before I 
 was afflicted, I went astray, but now I keep thy 
 Law." And the Apostle Paul says, that though 
 afflictions for the present are not joyous but grievous, 
 yet they are but for a moment, and they work out 
 for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of 
 glory. 
 
 When I said that the righteous were not to ex- 
 pect their reward until their work was done, and 
 for the same reason that the unrighteous were not 
 to be punished without sufficient trial, I in part ac- 
 
144 LOT OF THE RIGHTEOUS AND WICKED. 
 
 counted for the forbearance of God towards the 
 latter. Another reason why tliey are permitted to 
 prosper and prolong their lives in their wickedness, 
 is, that the goodness of (rod might lead them to re- 
 pentance. " And knowing," says the Apostle, " that 
 the goodness of God leadeth to repentance." For 
 this reason he bears with them. He louj^ waits to 
 be gracious, not willing that they should perish. 
 "As I live," saith the Lord, *' I have no pleasure 
 in the death of a sinner, but would rather he would 
 turn and live : Turn ye, turn ye, why will ye die, 
 O ! House of Israel." 
 
 THE DIVINITY OF THE SAVIOUR. 
 
 " That all men should honor the Son, evpn as thpy 
 honor the Father: he that honoreth not the Son, 
 honoreth not the Father which hath sent him.'' 
 
 Johu, 5th chap. 23d verse. 
 
 For the creature to honor the Creator, is certainly 
 not to advance him to any new dignity, or confer 
 upon him any higher titles than such as he would 
 possess, independently of human applause, but de- 
 voutly, with the most profound reverence and hu- 
 mility, to worship and adore him. It is to acknow- 
 
THE DIVINITY OF THE SAVIOUR. 145 
 
 ledge his majesty and glory ; to shew forth his most 
 worthy praise, to reverence his Holy name ; to ex- 
 ercise an entire resignation to his sovereign will, 
 and yield a prompt and unreserved obedience to his 
 commandments, together with all such expressions 
 of homage as he may be pleased to reveal to us, that 
 he will vouchsafe to receive. It is matchles conde- 
 scension in the God of Heaven, that he should ac- 
 cept the praises of men at all, or the praises of the 
 most exalted Archangels that surround his Throne 
 on high. But, the homage of neither will he ever 
 deign to accept, to the exclusion of his Son. Those 
 spotless intelligencies cease not, day nor night, in 
 their ascriptions of praise to " Him that sits upon 
 the Throne, and to tlie Lamb that was slain :" and, 
 to the children of men, he liath given commandment 
 that they " honor the Son, even as they honor the Fa- 
 ther." The exalted seraphs that " adore and burn," 
 account it their highest honor, in obedience to the 
 sovereign mandate, to cast their crowns at our Re- 
 deemer's feet; in token of their most profound sub- 
 mission. 
 
 The children of men, however, from what source 
 of information 1 know not, hut certainly not from 
 the wisdom that is from above, through their great 
 zeal for the honor of the Deity, and an extreme re- 
 pugnance to idolatry, cannot be brought to bend the 
 knee to Him that was slain, although alive again, 
 or acknowledge him as God. Their doctrine is, 
 that our Lord "Jesus Christ was a mere man, who 
 had no existence antecedent to his miraculous con- 
 ception ; that the Holy Ghost is not a distinct per- 
 son ; but, th^t the Father is truly and properly God." 
 
 19 
 
146 THE DIVINITY OF THE SAVIOUR. 
 
 They contend, that the doctrine of satisfaction for 
 sin, is utterly false, and that Jesus Christ only 
 preached the truth to mankind ; that he set hefore 
 them an example of heroic virtue, and sealed his 
 testimony with his blood. The doctrine of original 
 sin and justiiication, in consequence of the righteous- 
 ness of Jesus Christ, is altogether excluded from 
 their system. Such is the religious creed of Soci- 
 nus, the founder of this sect. Some new notions, 
 however, are flitting, as I understand, before the 
 imagination of some modern, eastern theologians, 
 who tell us that there was nothing miraculous, nor 
 at all extraordinary in the conception of our Saviour, 
 and that he is in no degree to be considered as the 
 object of religious worship. 
 
 When men engage in the discussion of points of 
 controversy, they are too apt to lose their temper; 
 to represent each other as destitute of all religion, 
 and to attribute to them the most unhallowed mo- 
 tives. 
 
 It is, doubtless, the duty of the ministers of Jesus 
 Christ, to maintain the truth as it is in him, and to 
 oppose such errors as they judge detractive from the 
 honor of their Kedeemer, and prejudicial to the best 
 interests of their fellow men, more especially of the 
 people of their charge : but, at the same time, to use 
 harsh language, and to entertain illiberal sentiments, 
 is not only contrary to the mild, benevolent spirit of 
 the religion of Jesus, but of real disservice to the 
 cause in which they are employed. I hope, how- 
 ever, that without breach of charity, in this case, I 
 may say, that if this system of doctrine laid down 
 by Sotinus, and espoused by his followers, be true : 
 
THE DIVINITY OF THE SAVIOUR. 147 
 
 if our Lord and Saviour be not very God as well 
 as man ; if the sufferings of his human nature 
 were not of infinite value and merit by its union with 
 the Divine ; and, if the sufferings and death of Christ 
 were not endured for the express purpose of cancel- 
 ling and expiating human guilt, our case is hopeless 
 and deplorable indeed. We have had some expe- 
 rience, I trust, of our guilt and misery : and when we 
 were enquiring what we should do to be saved, we 
 were invited and encouraged to flee for refuge from 
 the avenger of blood to the peace-speaking blood of 
 Jesus, which his Gospel assured us was shed on 
 purpose for the remission of sins. Every time we 
 seated ourselves at the table of the Lord, it was in 
 commemoration of this ; and in partaking with reve- 
 rence, humility and contrition, of the symbols of his 
 body and blood, our hearts were consoled by the 
 hope of mercy, while at the same time they over- 
 flowed with gratitude for the unspeakable gift, and 
 the most tender and endearing manifestations of Di- 
 vine love to perishing sinners. 
 
 In this faith our fathers lived, in this they died, 
 and triumphed in the hour of their death. In this 
 faith, we have been instructed from our earliest 
 youth. And under the influence of this persuasion, 
 many a distressed heavy-laden sinner, and some 
 amongst ourselves, I trust, have with penitent hearts 
 applied to the God of mercy for pardon, through 
 the merits of a crucified Redeemer, and found, or 
 thought they found, rest and peace to their souls. 
 Thought they found, I say ; for, if Christ did not 
 die for the sins of the world, to expiate human guilt 
 by his atonement ; but the opposite doctrine be 
 
148 THE DIVINITY OF THE SAVIOUR. 
 
 true, alas ! where are we? And what is to become 
 of us ? If Christ was not delivered for our oflen- 
 ces, and did not rise again for our justification, I 
 have no glad tidings for you any more. Instead of 
 directing enquiring souls, and applying myself to 
 the blood of atonement for the pardon of guilt, I 
 should be reduced to the painful necessity of declar- 
 ing in the words of Paul to the Corinthians, respect- 
 ing the resurrection of our Lord from the grave, 
 " We are yet in our sins :" And that, as without 
 the shedding of blood, there is no remissiou of sins, 
 in our own blood we must perish forever. But be 
 of good cheer, O ! humble believer. Let not go this 
 only anchor of your hope. The great design of 
 God in sending his Son into the world, was that he 
 might redeem the world, that whosoever believed ia 
 him might not " perish, but have everlasting life." 
 The rule laid down by a great Latin critic, never 
 to introduce a God, but on occasions worthy of Di- 
 vine interposition, is perfectly just, and obviously- 
 applicable, 1 think, to the case before us. It is very 
 difficult to see any necessity, that the Son of God 
 should come down from Heaven, assume our nature, 
 become a man of sorrows, and finally die on the 
 cross, or die at all, if it were merely, or principally 
 for the sake of dying, and that men might be taught 
 by his example, to endure sufterinsjs with patience, 
 and death with fortitude. Where was the necessity 
 for such great preparations, to accomplish such a 
 purpose? There are instances enough on record, of 
 persons who died heroically, before the Saviour 
 came ; and thousands and thousands since, have 
 died like poltroons. But it was worthy of the Son 
 
THE DIVINITY OF THE SAVIOUR. 149 
 
 of God to save a ruined world ; to redeem from 
 death and destruction, precious souls which he had 
 formed ; to appease the wrath of God ; to render 
 him propitious to guilty sinners ; to inform them 
 that by his precious blood shed on the cross, on 
 their account, there was forgiveness for them with 
 God, and plenteous redemption ; to encourage the 
 humble, believing penitent; to teach him, not only 
 how to live and how to die, but how to rise again 
 and receive eternal life which he died to purchase 
 for them. 
 
 For the doctrine of the atonement, we are in- 
 debted to Divine revelation, and from that source 
 we must derive all our information respecting it. 
 That Jesus of Nazareth died, that he suft'ered the 
 painful and ignominious death of the cross, is a 
 matter of fact which all men are ready to admit ; 
 but that he died for sin in the room of sinners, is 
 called in question by some, who profess to embrace 
 the Scriptures as the oracles of truth, and the source 
 of their instruction. Thus do poor erring mortals 
 differ. 
 
 Without being ensnared or influenced by the en- 
 ticing words of man's wisdom, 1 shall just lay down 
 before you the doctrine on the point in question, as 
 it is revealed to us in the word of God ; and then 
 you will judge for yourselves, whether Christ was 
 offered as a sacrifice for sin or not. Our blessed 
 Lord, immediately after his resurrection, in convers- 
 ing with two of his disciples whom he overtook on 
 their way to Emmaus, concerning the things that 
 had been done to him, referred them to Moses and 
 Hic Prophets for satisfactory information. I shall 
 
150 THE DIVINITY OF THE SAVIOUR. 
 
 therefore cite to you a few passaj^es out of the Old 
 Testament. It contains predictions respecting our 
 Saviour, almost innumerable ; but 1 shall only se- 
 lect a few of such as have reference to the design 
 of his death. In the 53d chap, of Isaiah, then, 
 from the 5th verse, you will find the following ac- 
 count : ^'But he was wounded for our transgressions, 
 he was bruised for our iniquities ; the chastisement 
 of our peace was upon him, and with his stripes 
 we are healed." " All we like sheep have gone 
 astray, and the Lord hath laid upon him the iniqui- 
 ty of us all. He was taken from prison and from 
 judgment; he was cut off out of the land of the 
 living, for the transgressions of my people he was 
 stricken." " By his knowledge shall my righteous 
 servant justify many, for he shall bear their iniqui- 
 ties. And he bore the sins of many, and made in- 
 tercessions for the transgressors." Without multi- 
 plying quotations, I shall only further refer you to 
 the 9th chap, of Daniel, 26th verse. " And after 
 three score and two weeks shall Messiah be cut off, 
 but not for himself." 
 
 When we turn to the Gospel, we find it abound- 
 ing in explicit declarations to the same effect. — 
 " The Son of man," says Saint Matthew, " came 
 not to be ministered unto, but to minister, and to 
 give his life a ransom for many." Chapter 20, 28. 
 In the 6th of John, our blessed Lord himself says ; 
 " And the bread whicli 1 shall give is my flesh, 
 which I will give for the life of the world." And 
 when he gave the cup to his disciples, at the insti- 
 tution of the Christian passovcr, he accompanied it 
 with these words ; ^' This is my blood of the New 
 
THE DIVINITY OF THE SAVIOUR. 151 
 
 Testament which is shed for many, for the remission 
 of vsins." Saint Paul, in his 1st epistle to the Co- 
 rinthians, informs them that ** Christ died for our 
 sins according to the Scriptures ;" 1st Corinthians 
 15. 3. In his second he says, " The love of Christ 
 constraineth us because we thus jndge, that if one 
 died for all, then were all dead : And that he died 
 for all, that they which live should not henceforth 
 live unto themselves, but unto him which died for 
 them and rose again ;" 2d Corinthians 5. 14, 15. In 
 the 1st Epistle to the Thessalonians, the words of the 
 Apostle are, " For God hath not appointed us to 
 wralh, but to obtain salvation by our Lord Jesus 
 Christ who died for us ;■' 5. 9, 10. See also the 2d 
 chapter to the Hebrews, 9th verse. ^*But we see 
 Jesus, who was made a little lower than the angels, 
 for the suffering of death, crowned with glory and 
 honour ; that he, by the grace of God, should taste 
 death for every man ;" Hebrew 9. 28. " So Christ 
 was once offered to bear the sins of many," &c. 
 
 Now, let us suppose that it was really the inten- 
 tion of these words to represent Jesus Christ as a 
 sacrifice for sin, and that it was his great object in 
 dying on the cross, to expiate human guilt, and pro- 
 cure pardon and salvation for guilty and perish- 
 ing sinners ; 1 beseech you, in what plainer and 
 more unequivocal language, could the doctrine have 
 been expressed ? Take for a specimen the declara- 
 tions of our Saviour himself which have been al- 
 ready quoted ; ^* The Son of man came not to be 
 ministered unto, but to minister, and to give his life a 
 ransom for many." Again, "And the bread which 
 I shall give you is my flesh which I will give for 
 
152 THE DIVINITY OF THE SAVIOUR. 
 
 the life of the world ;" and, in skiving the cup, 
 " This cup." said he, '*is my blood of the Tsew ^les- 
 tament which is shed for many, for the remission 
 of sins." 
 
 Such language as this, certainly gives but little 
 countenance to the frivolous conceit, that the great 
 and sole object of Christ's coming into the world was 
 to instruct them in things they did not know before; 
 and, that the only design of his sufferings and death, 
 was to teach men how to bear adversity with pa- 
 tience, and meet death with fortitude. It is true, 
 that he did instruct as a Prophet ; but, it is as true, 
 and to us of greater interest, that as a Priest, he of- 
 fered a complete atonement for sin : on this, depends 
 all human hope. 
 
 To deny the atonement of Christ, is, in effect, to 
 deny his Divinity ; and there is no doubt, but that the 
 one is done for the sake of the other. Hence it is 
 alledged, that to worship the Saviour is an act of 
 idolatry. If this were indeed so, what would become 
 of the direction in the text, ^' That all men should 
 honor the Son, even as they honor the Father?" 
 That is, in the same manner, with the same reverence, 
 and to the same extent. Is it not most unaccounta- 
 ble, too, if it be idolatrous in men to worship the Son, 
 that the Angels should be expressly commanded to 
 commit this very idolatry? " Let all the Angels of 
 God worship Him," is the sovereign mandate. 
 
THE BENEFIT OF AFFLICTION. 153 
 
 THE BENEFIT OF AFFLICTION. 
 
 ^^ It is good for me that I have been afflicted J^ 
 
 Psalms, 119th chap. 71st verse. 
 
 That man is born to trouble, is a general asser- 
 tion, to which so few exceptions are to be found, that 
 the vainest hope which we can entertain, is, that we 
 shall pass our lives in uninterrupted prosperity, and 
 know the nature of trouble and disappointment, not 
 by experience, but by observation. Yet they who 
 are in a state of prosperity, are often inclined to in- 
 dulge this vain hope, and to flatter themselves with 
 the expectation of many days to come, all as fair as 
 those which they at present enjoy. 
 
 There is another illusion as common as this, and 
 more dangerous, namely, a persuasion that adversi- 
 ty is the greatest evil which can befal us. The 
 Scriptures frequently affirm the contrary, and though 
 out of respect to their sacred authority, we admit in 
 general all to be true which is contained in them, 
 yet, on this point, we believe as though we believed 
 not ; our faith is imperfect, and its influence upon 
 our passions is feeble and superficial. And yet the 
 doctrine of the Scriptures upon this subject is 
 agreeable to general experience, and to plain com- 
 mon sense. The Scriptures have no refined and 
 subtle notions about the nature of adversity, nor 
 do they endeavour to persuade us that we may take 
 pleasure in it ; but acknowledging that it is irksome 
 
 20 
 
154 THE BENEFIT OF AFFLICTION. 
 
 and contrary to our inclinations, they assure us that 
 it produces many salutary effects. "No chastening," 
 say they, *' for the present seemeth to be joyous, but 
 grievous ; nevertheless, afterwards, it yieldeth to 
 peaceable fruits of righteousness unto thein that are 
 exercised thereby." " It is good for me," says David 
 in the words of the text, " that 1 have been afflicted." 
 He doth not say, that afflictions, whilst he endured 
 them, were agreeable to him ; but that he had found 
 them profitable, and that they had made him a bet- 
 ter man, a more careful observer of the laws of God. 
 ** It is £,ood for me that I have been afflicted, that I 
 might learn thy statutes." He confesses, that pros- 
 perit,v had been prejudicial to him : that it had con- 
 duced to make him negligent of his duty ; that whilst 
 he seemed to be happy, his soul was in no good con- 
 dition, though he perhaps was not sensible of it, 
 till adversity taught him his danger, and the neces- 
 sity of amendment. " Before 1 was afflicted" says 
 he in this Psalm, " I went astray ; but now have I 
 kept thy word." 
 
 Afflictions have a tendency to produce in us re- 
 formation and improvement. It will be proper to 
 shew this, and to point it out in particular instances. 
 
 One use, then, of afflictions, is, that they often 
 make us better members of society, by giving us a 
 compassionate disposition towards those who are 
 unhappy, and a ]>roneness to assist and relieve them. 
 
 Experience shews, that they who have been ac- 
 quainted with trouble, are the most inclined to pity 
 a fellow- sufferer who is in the same condition. 
 They have been in the like hard circumstances : 
 they then wanted the friendly advice and the good 
 
THE BENEFIT OF AFFLICTION. 155 
 
 offices of others : they then more especially ^ve^e 
 displeased if thoy found themselves neglected and 
 slighted, and their reasonable requests refused. 
 They are consequently the more disposed to make 
 the case of others their own, and to have a strong 
 sense of the beauty of that Divine precept, which 
 directs us to do to our neighbour what we would 
 that he should do to us. The sacred writers have 
 not omitted this observation, when,, to encourage us 
 to trust in our Mediator, they remind us that he, 
 having borne our nature and its weaknesses, is con- 
 sequently the more ready to assist us ; for in that 
 himself hath suffered, being tempted, he is able to 
 succour them that are tempted. We seem to be 
 naturally disposed to pity those who suffer, but this 
 disposition may be weakened and destroyed, or 
 preserved and strengthened. It is often weakened 
 by temporal prosperity, which raises in us a thought- 
 less careless gaiety, a great love of amusements and 
 pleasure, and an aversion from all objects which 
 may create any melancholy and uneasiness : and it is 
 as frequently preserved and increased by calamities, 
 which soften the heart, and give it a taste for the 
 serious pleasures arising from benevolence and hu- 
 manity. 
 
 It is a thing of far less importance, and yet it is 
 not altogether unworthy of observation, that afflic- 
 tions have a tendency to improve, not only a man's 
 moral dispositions, but his natural abilities also, his 
 sentiments and his expressions, his thoughts and his 
 style. 
 
 Here then is a particular and a general use of af- 
 flictions. They are certainly profitable to those 
 
156 THE BENEFIT OP AFFLICTION. 
 
 whose temper and understanding they have im- 
 proved, and they are of general use to societies, by 
 raising up among them, public benefactors. 
 
 Afflictions have also a tendency, either to prevent 
 or to remove from us pride and insolence, and a dis- 
 regard of our fellow-creatures. 
 
 They who live at their ease, who have experi- 
 enced no disappointments, who enjoy health, and 
 plenty, and power, learn to imagine that health, and 
 plenty, and power, contain in them all perfections 
 of body and mind, or at least, supply all the defects 
 of either ; they learn too easily to forget themselves, 
 and to slight those who are beneath them. But 
 trouble, like death, equals all, and at its approach, 
 the frivolous marks of worldly distinction shew 
 their emptiness. Calamities befal the poor and 
 friendless : they visit also the rich and the power- 
 ful j and when they come to those whom prosperity 
 has spoiled, they bring this instruction along with 
 them, that all states are exposed to the evils of life, 
 that all persons stand in need of each other's assis- 
 tance, and that the most considerable difference be- 
 tween us, is that which is made by virtue and vice. 
 
 Again ; afflictions are useful, as they wean us 
 from too great a love for this world. 
 
 Since men are fond of life, and of all that con- 
 duces to its convenience, and since this fondness is 
 very much increased by the possession of the good 
 things belonging to the present state, it is fit upon 
 the whole, that man who is born to die, should also 
 be born to trouble, and meet with disappointments, 
 and see the disagreeable parts of life, that he may 
 be contented to submit to a decree which ho cannot 
 
THE BENEFIT OF AFFLICTION. 157 
 
 reverse, and learn to retire decently from a state 
 which the law of mortality will force him to quit, 
 whether he be willing or not. 
 
 It hath been thought by some, that if we lived 
 long enough, we might and we should learn all this, 
 without the assistance of afflictions, those, rigid in- 
 structors. We are satiated, say they, as of other 
 things, so of life itself. A constant return of the 
 same occupations, and of the same amusements, will 
 grow unwelcome and insipid at the last, and we 
 shall desire a release, and receive it as a favour, 
 
 A certain mixture of sprightliness and melancho- 
 ly, might lead some persons into this way of think- 
 ing ; but, the greater part of men are so much at- 
 tached to the present state, that much stronger 
 causes are necessary to give them an indiiference to- 
 wards the world : nor, would a long life grow tire- 
 some to them, unless it were attended with worse in- 
 conveniences than a review of the same objects, and 
 a repetition of the same actions. 
 
 Afflictions, therefore, come seasonably, to those 
 who would willingly take up their abode in a place 
 which was not designed for their home, and give 
 them a sense of the many defects which render that 
 place undesirable; and, then the mind, dissatisiied 
 with its present condition, and ever desirous of find- 
 ing rest and peace, looks forward and turns its views 
 towards Heaven. This is another use of troubles, 
 and one of the ends for which they are permitted, 
 or appointed by providence. They are designed 
 for our amendment, and they naturally conduce to it. 
 
 Men, living in a neglect of their duty, find ways 
 to compose their conscience, and to drive away the 
 
158 THE BENEFIT OF AFFLICTION. 
 
 thoughts of their ollences, whilst their condition here 
 is easy aud prosperous. The variety of amusements 
 and occupations, to which they have recourse, em- 
 ploy aud divert them, and keep oflP serious and sor- 
 rowful reflections. It was the observation of a Pa- 
 gan, tliat altars were made for the unhappy ; and, 
 that other people seldom approached them. But, 
 when the scene is changed, and things fall out con- 
 trary to their expectation, and trouble overtakes 
 them, new thoughts take place. They seek relief and 
 assistance, aud they see that worldly objects caa 
 give them no ease and no comfort : they then begin 
 to know the nature of such objects, and to look upon 
 them w ith more indifference. When they have lost 
 the things which they most valued ; or, when they 
 find them deceitful, useless and unsatisfactory, they 
 learn to pass a new, and a better judgment upon 
 them. At the same time, they perceive the beauty 
 of virtue, the excellence of piety, the many advan- 
 tages of a religious life, and the inestimable value of 
 the future rewards pVomised to the obedient : they 
 see the folly of preferring the transitory pleasures of 
 sin, to these substantial and durable blessings : they 
 will then be sensible, that God alone can be a refuge 
 to them ; that he can, in many ways, assist them ; 
 that he can remove or lessen the evils which oppress 
 them ; give them strength of mind to bear them, or 
 make those calamities turn to their temporal or eter- 
 nal welfare. 
 
 Then their past offences will rise up before tliem, 
 with shame and sorrow, that they had not serv- 
 ed God i)etter in the days of their prosperity : then 
 resolutions of auicudment, and of working out their 
 
THE BENEFIT OF AFFLICTION. 159 
 
 own fsalvation with care and diligence, will follow. 
 
 Lastly; afflictions are useful, by inducing us to ex- 
 ercise the virtues suitable to that state. In this view 
 they are trials ; trials of our patience, constancy, faith, 
 resignation and reliance ; and, therefore, great 
 benefits when they answer the end for which they 
 were designed. To be contented, when every thing 
 succeeds according to our desires, to think that God 
 has given us what is necessary for our well-being, 
 when we abound with all conveniences of life, is no 
 virtue. But, to believe that a state of affliction is 
 proper for us, because God thinks fit to try us with 
 it, to submit to it with meekness and patience, to be 
 willing to undergo any thing here, if by it, we may 
 secure his approbation, and a place in his kingdom, 
 is a disposition most acceptable to him. The be- 
 haviour of such a person, recommends constancy 
 and piety to all who converse with him, more than 
 the most elaborate discourses upon the subject. It 
 hath been said, that a good man contending with 
 ill fortune, and superior to it, is a spectacle which 
 God himself may delight to behold : He is certain- 
 ly an example, from which men by beholding may 
 receive instruction and improvement. 
 
 I have mentioned several desirable effects which 
 afflictions have a tendency to procure. It is true 
 that they have not always these happy consequen- 
 ces. There are, and there have been many to whom 
 calamities have done no good, but the contrary : 
 Hence, those expostulations and complaints in the 
 Prophets : " For all this his anger is not turned 
 away, but his hand is stretched out still ; for the 
 people turneth not to him who smiteth them, neither 
 
160 THE BENEFIT OF AFFLICTION. 
 
 do they seek the Lord of Hosts. Why should 
 they be stricken any more ? They will revolt more 
 and more. Strangers bave devoured the strength 
 o/ Ephraim ; but they do not return to the Lord, 
 nor seek liim for all this." Afflictions produce in 
 some, a distrust of God's goodness, hardness of 
 heart, despair, injurious thoughts against Providence. 
 In others, they excite humility, repentance, charity, 
 humanity, and all good works. To be made worse 
 by sufferings, is a sign of a corrupt and profligate 
 mind, and must arise from a disbelief of all reli- 
 gion, or from a very wicked conduct ; but they 
 who are in a state, between gross impiety, and 
 Cliristian holiness, are often improved by suffer- 
 ings. We may observe that in the New Testa- 
 ment, the afflictions which befal Christians are re- 
 presented not as punishments, but as corrections, as 
 the chastenings of a father and a friend ; as acts of 
 God's kindness to us, intended to make us better 
 and happier. 
 
 We may also observe, that afflictions will be more 
 or less heavy and grievous to us, according to the 
 bad or good effect which they produce in us. Very 
 grievous they must be to those, who account God 
 to be their enemy, and neither seek nor expect 
 his favour and assistance ; but to those who are 
 amended b^ them, they will not prove insupporta- 
 ble. Trouble leads them to repentance, and repen- 
 tance is a kind of pleasing grief, a remorse attended 
 and allayed with hopes of being reconciled to our 
 Father, and of seeing, one time or other, an end of 
 sorrows. And besides this, God hath told us that 
 such as our behaviour is, when we are thus visited 
 
THE BENEFIT OF AFFLICTION. 161 
 
 by him, such will his conduct be towards us. If 
 we turn to him, and receive his corrections with sub- 
 mission and humility, and by the reformation of our 
 lives shew that we have a due sense of our faults, 
 and of the kind end for which those corrections 
 were inflicted, God will make them easy to us, and 
 in due time relieve or release us : But, if we harden 
 our hearts, and sin on in defiance of his judgments, 
 we may expect that God will deal with us as he 
 declared that he would deal with the people of Is- 
 rael, who having denounced terrible evils, which 
 should overtake them, if they forsook him, tells 
 them, " if you will not be reformed by all this, 1 
 will punish you seven times more, and again seven 
 times more for your sins." 
 
 Having observed thus much of the design and 
 tendency of afflictions, it only remains now that we 
 consider the use which is to be made of this doc- 
 trine. There is a pretty fable related by an ancient 
 Pagan writer, that the Deity who formed the first 
 man out of the ground, reflecting at the same time 
 on the calamities which the unhappy creature was 
 to undergo, wept over his work, and tempered it 
 with tears, that man, whose heart should be so often 
 overcharged with griefs, might not want a way to 
 give it vent. This writer has considered afflictions 
 in a desponding and melancholy way : but there is 
 a more manly, and more rational way of consider- 
 ing them, and it is thus : Since we have no reason 
 to expect that we shall spend our days in an uniu- 
 terrupted enjoyment of temporal happiness ; since 
 affliction seems on the contray to be man's patri- 
 mony, his birthright and inheritance ; since troubles 
 
 2t 
 
i62 THE BENEFIT OF AFFLICTION. 
 
 are also intended for our benefit, and when they 
 produce proper effects, become more easy to be en- 
 dured, it is our duty and our interest to prepare our- 
 selves to meet them, and to acquire the methods of 
 softe.iing their harsh nature, and of improving their 
 good tendency. Therefore, if we are in an easy 
 condition, we should preserve ourselves free from 
 the faults whi( h often accompany that state, such as 
 pride, uncharitableness, irreligiou, a pursuit of un- 
 lawful pleasures, and an unreasonable fondness for 
 the world. We should remember that there is noth- 
 ing besides our virtue that we can call our own, 
 and that almost every thing else, is vanity or uncer- 
 tainty. 
 
 There is a thoughtfulness about future evils, which 
 makes us dissatisfied and uneasy before-hand, and 
 raises apprehensions of troubles which may never 
 befal us ; and tliis is a weakness, or rather a folly. 
 But there is a meditation upon these subjects which 
 is pleasant and profitable, which teaches us modera- 
 tion in the best state, and arms us with courage and 
 constancy against the worst. 
 
 Happy circumstances incline us to seek out va- 
 riety of amusements, to keep much company, to in- 
 dulge our appetites, in a word, to create to ourselves 
 many wants, to make many things necessary to us, 
 which many persons in lower life never possessed 
 and never desired. Thus we lay ourselves open to 
 grief and misery, upon any change of circumstan- 
 ces, and become unfit to act a rational part in any 
 other fetation. This evil would not befal us, if we 
 used the pleasures and conveniences of this world, 
 as things which we may lose and ought to resign dc- 
 
THE BENEFIT OF AFFLICTION. 163 
 
 cently. If we can gratify our appetites in all things, 
 we should yet sometimes cross and contradict them, 
 that we may live contented upon a little, if poverty 
 should ever overtake us. If we have friends and 
 relations, we should at certain times withdraw from 
 them all, that we may know how to bear retirement- 
 and solitude, if need should require it ; that we may 
 secure to ourselves good company, within our own 
 breasts, and be able to converse agreeably with God 
 and our own thoughts. By actins; thus in prospe- 
 rity, we shall escape those evils wliich others draw 
 upon themselves, and those which God inflicts up- 
 on sinners, to bring them to a better mind, and we 
 shall not be overcome by those which befal us. If 
 our days have been and are prosperous, we have 
 great reason to add to our gratitude an uncommoa 
 care of our behaviour, and to work out our own sal- 
 vation with fear and trembling. God hath often de- 
 clared, that he corrects those whom he loves best. 
 We must therefore beware, that we be not of the 
 number of those who receive good things only in 
 this state. If that should be our case, our present 
 happiness would be our heaviest misfortune. But 
 the favours, the temporal favours of Providence, are 
 no curses, unless we make them such. We may be 
 successful and virtuous too. Indeed, it requires no 
 small wisdom and caution to gain these two bles- 
 sings, which men almost always put asunder ; and 
 the difficulty of doing this should teach us a distrust 
 of ourselves, a moderate esteem of our possessions, 
 and a religious fear, lest we should miss our reward 
 in' Heaven. If we have endeavoured to behave our- 
 selves like men and like Christians, then have we 
 
164 THE BENEFIT OF AFFLICTION. 
 
 many motives to bear adversity with patience and 
 resignation, and not to be quite cast down. Then 
 we have a refuge, and may apply to him who hath 
 told us, that all things shall work together for good 
 to them that love him ; that he will not sufler them 
 to be tried above their strength, but will with the 
 temptation, make a way that they may escape ; and 
 that blessed are they who are trained up by these 
 short hardships, to glory and immortality. If our 
 days are evil, they are few, and then follows a state 
 of peace to the righteous ; then various rewards will 
 be distributed, and probably none of the smallest to 
 those who have been exercised and improved by 
 afflictions. We judge persons fortunate or wretch- 
 ed, according to their present outward circumstan- 
 ces. How uncertain must that judgment be ? If 
 God should enable us to see what passeth in the 
 hearts of men, or if he should remove the cloud 
 from our eyes, and give us a view of the state which 
 is to succeed this, how desirable would the condition 
 appear of many, whom the world now is disposed 
 to pity or to despise ! 
 
 If the evil dajs come upon us before we are pre- 
 pared to meet them, before we have reformed our con- 
 duct, it is our duty to consider the purposes for which 
 it pleaseth God to visit us. If we give ourselves 
 up to sullen discontent or despair, or if we have no 
 sorrow for our past offences, but only for our pre- 
 sent calamities, we make not a right use of his cor- 
 rections : we offend him still more : we add to the 
 weight of the burden, which he hath laid upon us. 
 His corrections call to repentance ; and we should 
 be thankful that he took us not off at a time when 
 
THE BENEFIT OF AFFLICTION. 165 
 
 death would have been the destruction, both of soul 
 and body ; and whilst we endeavour to reform our 
 lives, we should trust in the promises of God, that 
 he will be found of those who thus seek him. 
 
 Lastly : If we have passed through troubles, and 
 seen an end of them, our behaviour should be such, 
 that we may be able to say with David, " It is good 
 for us that we have known afflictions." We may 
 reflect upon them with pleasure, if we are sensible 
 that they weakened our depraved appetites and vain 
 desires, strengthened our good dispositions, and 
 adorned our minds with new graces. But, if they 
 have left us no better than they found us, our con- 
 dition is bad indeed. In honest and generous tem- 
 pers, the blessings of God produce gratitude and 
 love : In those which are less tractable, afflictions of- 
 ten create amendment : But there is no hope of those 
 upon whom nothing can work, upon whom both 
 severity and kindness are forever thrown away. 
 
166 FUTURE PUNISHMENT. 
 
 FUTURE PUNISHMENT. 
 
 " And these shall s;o away into everlasting punis- 
 ment; but the righteous into life etemaV^ 
 
 Matthew, 25th chap. 46lh verse. 
 
 The unequal distribution of rewards and punish- 
 ments in this life, has not only been made a pretence 
 with men of dissolute lives for continuing in iniquity 
 and the neglect of God, but also for calling in ques- 
 tion the superintendence and care of his providence 
 over the aflFairs of men. The afflictions of the right- 
 eous, and the prosperity of the wicked, have been 
 thought to be inconsistent with the justice of God, 
 which, according to their idea of equity, should ne- 
 cessarily reward the good, and punish the vicious. 
 But, the main design and drift of their arguments, 
 have been to allay the apprehension of a more equi- 
 table distribution in a future state, and to prove as a 
 necessary consequence, that there is no judgment to 
 come, because there is no Providence. These are 
 considerations they take for granted by turns, and 
 dispute in a circle about them ; that there is no fu- 
 ture judgment, because there is no Providence, and 
 there is no Providence, because there is no future 
 state. 
 
 It was even a stumbling block to good men to see 
 the wicked flourishing like a sreen bay tree, whilst 
 the righteous were visited with severe afflictions. 
 This almost tempted the Holy Psalmist to distrust 
 
FUTURE PUNISHMENT. 167 
 
 the care of God's Providence over his servants, and 
 made him hastily conchide, that he had cleansed 
 his heart and washed his hands in innocency in 
 vain. ** As for me,'' says he, ** my feet were almost 
 gone, my steps had well nigh slipped, for 1 was en- 
 vious as the foolish, when 1 saw the prosperity of 
 the wicked. But as the secret of the Lord is with 
 them that fear him, so he was enabled to look for- 
 vv^ard to a future state, and see the different situations 
 of those that feared God, and those that feared him 
 not. When I sought to know this, it was too hard for 
 me, until I went into the sanctuary of God; then 
 understood I them, and, surely thou didst sit them 
 in slippery places ; thou castcdst them down to de- 
 struction. But thou shalt guide me with thy coun- 
 cil, and afterwards receive me to glory." When the 
 prosperity of the wicked became their snare, he no 
 longer envied their lot, nor did he distrust the good- 
 ness of God, in the afflictive dispensations of his 
 Provideuce, when he understood that the light af- 
 flictions which the Christian endured, would work 
 out for him a far more exceeding and eternal Aveight 
 of glory. 
 
 In the very solemn passage under consideration, 
 our Saviour very expressly informs us, what will 
 be the different conditions of the sinner and the God- 
 ly man, and the final destiny of both ; these shall 
 go away into everlasting punishment, and the righte- 
 ous into life eternal. 
 
 In the further prosecution of this subject, I shall 
 endeavour in the first place, according to my promise, 
 to shew that the afflictions of the righteous and 
 the prosperity of the wicked, are no arguments 
 
168 FUTURE PUNISHMENT. 
 
 against Providence and a future judgment. In the 
 second place, as time will not allow me to discuss 
 at length, both parts of this subject, 1 shall confine 
 myself to the former part of it, and consider a little, 
 the nature of the punishment that awaits the wicked ; 
 and in the third place, consider its duration. Then 
 a few observations, from what may have been said, 
 shall conclude the discourse. 
 
 Under the first head, the unequal distributions of 
 rewards and punishments in this life, which men who 
 think but little, are apt to consider as weighty ar- 
 guments against Providence and a future state of 
 retribution, is so far from answering the purpose, 
 that it is, if duly considered, at least, an indirect im- 
 plication of both. 
 
 According to every just notion of the purity and 
 holiness of God, sinners must be the objects of his 
 abhorrence, and good men his delight ; and to deal 
 with them in equity, he must punish or reward them 
 according to their deeds. AVhen, therefore, we see 
 the wicked flourishing, and the righteous afflicted, 
 and at the same time, take into consideration the 
 justice of God, who awardeth righteous judgment, 
 we may rest assured, that the time will come, when 
 these differences shall be finally adjusted ; when 
 the righteous shall receive their recompence of re- 
 ward, and the wicked shall suffer the wages of their 
 iniquity ; that God hath appointed a day in which 
 he will judge the world in righteousness, and ren- 
 der unto every one according to the deeds he shall 
 have done in the body, whether they be good, or 
 whether they be evil. If we consider it as essential 
 to the justice of God, that good men should be re- 
 
FUTURE PUNISHMENT. 169 
 
 rewarded, and bad men punished, and we know that 
 this is not the case in this life, the only natural con- 
 clusion is, that these distinctions are reserved for a 
 future state. Indeed, a little reflection would serve 
 to convince us of the propriety of an indiscriminate 
 lot to the righteous and the wicked. This world is 
 a state of probation in which we are to be trained 
 up in the practice of religion, and by the exercise of 
 virtue, be made fit for Heaven. The servants of 
 God, then, are not to expect their reward until their 
 work is done ; and if wicked men complain of 
 God's Providence, on account of their prosperity, 
 probably, they would think it much harder to have 
 suffered the demerit of their crimes immediately in 
 this world, and be punished without a trial. 
 
 It is easy to see, that if God were on all occasions 
 to interpose in behalf of the righteous, and in pun- 
 ishment of the wicked, it would in a great measure 
 lay a constraint upon their actions, and leave but 
 little room for the exerrise of Christian graces. 
 There would be but little virtue in refraining from 
 vice, if the terrors of the Almighty were constantly 
 displayed before our eyes. And on the other hand, 
 it would destroy our faith in the promises of God, 
 which is so essential to the Christian, that he is said 
 to walk by faith and not by sight. But what a man 
 seeth, why does he hope for? It is reserved, there- 
 fore, as a reward to good men in another life, that 
 their faith should be swallowed up of vision, and 
 their hope terminate in enjoyment. 
 
 2dly. As far as the Providence of God is con- 
 cerned, and his care of the righteous in this world, 
 they are very much mistaken who attribute the af- 
 
 22 
 
170 FUTURE PUNISHMENT. 
 
 flictions of good men to his neglect, or consider them 
 as marks of his displeasure ; they are rather the 
 tokens of his kindness and regard. Afflictions are 
 promised as blessings to God's people ; for, whom 
 he loveth, he chasteneth, and scourgeth every son 
 and daughter whom he receiveth. The sufferings 
 of this present life, though for the present they are 
 not joyous, but grievous, are designed for, and pro- 
 ductive of our good, in abating our attachment to 
 the transitory objects of time and sense, and stand 
 as beacons on these earthly coasts, to warn us to look 
 for happiness in a better country, to lay up our trea- 
 sure in Heaven, where moth and rust do not corrupt, 
 and where it will not be subject to the inroads of 
 time. When all things go prosperously on, we are 
 apt to grow presumptuous, and repose in a dange- 
 rous security, and in the neglect of God, until de- 
 struction overtake us : But, when we are blessed 
 with seasonable correction, before the frequent com- 
 mission of wickedness hardens our hearts, we are 
 brought to consider the error of our ways, to be 
 humbled under the sense of our sins, and to turn 
 unto the testimonies of God. Thus, says the Psal- 
 mist, ^' It is good for me that I was afflicted : Be- 
 fore I was afflicted, 1 went astray, but now I keep 
 thy law." 
 
 As a father chasteneth a son, so does God deal 
 with them, that fear him. When a child is chas- 
 tised, he weeps beneath the smart ; but the correc- 
 tion proceeds from the sincerest regard, and is a 
 token of the purest desire to promote the interest of 
 the child. On the other hand, when he withholds 
 the rod, it is a sad token that the child is become 
 
FUTURE PUNISHMENT. |71 
 
 incorrigible, or that having been often chastised, he 
 has hardened his heart, and is given up to his own 
 destruction. Accordingly, the Apostle says to the 
 Hebrews, "If ye endure chastening, God dealeth 
 with you as sons ; for, what son is he whom the 
 father chasteneth not? But if ye be without chas- 
 tisement, whereof all are partakers, then are ye 
 bastards and not sons.'' 
 
 Lastly, under this head, as to the prosperity of the 
 wicked, considering what has been already said of 
 the necessity of correction, it is still a smaller ob- 
 jection against Providence in permitting it, when 
 their lives at furthest are but short, and often che- 
 quered too with the misfortunes that fall to the com- 
 mon lot of humanity ; and especially, where this is 
 not the case, when the objection is so easily re- 
 moved by the Psalmist in the 37th Psalm, " Yet a 
 little while and the wicked shall not be ; yea, thou 
 shalt diligently consider his place, and it shall not 
 be." When the same persons who have been the 
 spectators of their prosperous wickedness, shall live 
 to see a sudden end of them. " 1 have seen the 
 wicked in great power, and spreading himself like 
 a green bay tree ; yet he passed away, and lo ! he 
 was not : yea, I sought him, but he could not be 
 found." If the righteous then suffer tribulation 
 here, their revirard is great in Heaven ; and if the 
 wicked enjoy an uninterrupted series of earthly 
 prosperity, there is a day of reckoning appointed 
 for them, and the revelation of the righteous judg- 
 ment of God in a future state. 
 
 This leads me to consider the nature of that pun- 
 ishment which awaits the wicked hereafter. The 
 
172 I-UIUUK fUJMSHMl^JVT* 
 
 most that we can say of this is, that it surpasses all 
 description. We have reason to bless God, that we 
 are yet the monuments of his mercy and forbearance; 
 that we do not know the sufferings that are contain- 
 ed in the phials of his wrath, and the blackness of 
 darkness for ever. Could I open to your view the 
 bottomless pit, that tophet that is prepared of old for 
 the Devil and his Angels, and the smoke of torment 
 that ascendeth thence ; or, could we hear the groans 
 of the wretched prisoners that are there confined, 
 we might have some idea of what they endure, who 
 have fallen under the wrath of Almighty God. 
 
 In the general, however, from what the Scriptures 
 teach us, we may learn, that the punishment of the 
 wicked is of two kinds : the one is an utter exclu- 
 sion from the joys of Heaven; and the other, the 
 actual vengeance of God. We are informed of this, 
 in the distressing story of Lazarus and the rich sin- 
 ner. The latter, we are told, saw the happiness at 
 a distance, which he had lost forever : he saw Abra- 
 ham afar off and Lazarus in his bosom, while he 
 was excluded from those happy regions ; and, to 
 add to his misery, he was tormented in the flames. 
 Had we no greater punishments to fear, it would be 
 an awful thing, when we knocked at the gate of 
 Heaven, to find it barred against us, and to receive 
 that sentence from our Judge, " Depart from me, yc 
 cursed, I never knew you.'' And this, we know, 
 shall be the fate of all the wicked, that they shall 
 be forever banished from the presence of the Lord, 
 and from the glory of His power. They are not to be 
 permitted to taste of the rivers of pleasure, which flow 
 forever more at God's right hand ; they shall not cu- 
 
FUTURE fUNISUMUJNT. £78 
 
 joy the smiles of their Maker and Redeemer, nor 
 receive tlie congratulations of kindred souls. In 
 short, they shall be forever deprived of greater hap- 
 piness than eye hath seen, or ear heard, or hath en- 
 tered into the heart of man to conceive. 
 
 But, secondly, this, however dreadful, alas ! is not 
 all; they must not only depart from Heaven, but 
 they must go to Hell : they not only forfeit everlast- 
 ing happiness, but they must be exquisitely misera- 
 ble. The rich sinner lifted up his eyes in Hell, 
 being in torment. The unhappy doom which they 
 shall suffer, who, by continuing in sin, lose their 
 souls, will not only be, ^' depart ye cursed," but, 
 ^^ Depart into everlasting fire, prepared for the Devil 
 and his Angels." The torments of Hell are exhib- 
 ited to us under the most dreadful representations ; 
 such as fire and brimstone, the blackness of dark- 
 ness ; the worm that never dieth, and unquenchable 
 fire. Yet, as we are to understand by these repre- 
 sentations, the everlasting death of the soul, men have 
 flattered themselves witb vain hopes, that these tor- 
 ments will not be real, and that material fire will 
 not be used in punishing an immaterial spirit. But, 
 these hopes, whether true or false, are dangerous 
 delusions. Can we suppose that infinite wisdom 
 will be at a loss to contrive, or that omnipotence 
 shall want power to inflict the most intolerable tor- 
 ments? The body, as well as the soul, will be 
 cast into Hell ; and, therefore, we cannot say that 
 there will be no fire there. But, allowing these to 
 be figurative expressions, we have reason to fear 
 that the future punishments of the enemies of God, 
 instead of being lighter, will be much more grievous, 
 
174 i-UTUKli FUJNISHMENT. 
 
 than they are represented. The spirit of God does 
 not hold out figures that exceed the reality ; and, if 
 tlie lake of fire and everlasting burnings are no more 
 than metaphors, good God! Avhat will the real tor- 
 ments of the damned be ? God grant that none of 
 us may ever feel his frowns ; for, believe it, it is a 
 fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God. 
 Having thus offered some imperfect observations 
 as to the nature of future punishment, I proceed, 
 in the third place, to consider its duration. There 
 has long been a warm dispute about this point, and 
 it is now becoming a popular doctrine, that it will 
 be only for a limited time. Whilst some, from the 
 conviction of their minds, have maintained, that it 
 will be everlasting ; others, from a different convic- 
 tion, or to gain proselytes to a popular doctrine, 
 have asserted, that the wicked will be punished but 
 for a time, and will afterwards be received into glo- 
 ry with the righteous. 
 
 For my part, I should be loth to disturb your 
 peace, by endeavouring to maintain the contrary, 
 were it not that 1 consider this as a very pernicious 
 doctrine, and that we are no where warranted in 
 Scripture to entertain such flattering hopes. 
 
 Men who are amused with such airy fancies, in- 
 stead of being led to repentance by the goodness of 
 God, are apt to sit down deliberately to count the 
 cost, to indulge themselves in wickedness, in some 
 measure, with the hope of impunity ; and, as it vv ere, 
 to compound with their Maker, for a whole life of 
 sin, by paying the forfeit of a limited punishment. 
 They use the kindness of God, but the more to pro- 
 voke him ; or, to use the strikins; and eleirant Ian- 
 
FUTURE PUNISHMENT. 175 
 
 guage of our Saviour, " Their eye is evil because 
 God is good.'' Thus, they are led by these mista- 
 ken notions, to prolong their punishment, if it be but 
 temporary ; but, if it should chance to be everlast- 
 ing, they lose their souls forever. 
 
 It is with reluctance that I enter upon this subject; 
 butj to guard you against dangerous deceptions, you 
 will give me leave to try the force of an argument 
 or two upon it. 
 
 In the first place, then, if we pay any regard to 
 the Holy oracles of God, we have there, the plain- 
 est and most awful threatnings of everlasting pun- 
 ishment against all the workers of iniquity. Amongst 
 the many passages in Scripture, to this purpose, I 
 shall only instance two or three. See the 36th 
 verse of 3d chap. John : '* He that believeth on the 
 Sou, hath everlasting life ; and he that believeth 
 not the Son, shall not see life, but the wrath of God 
 abideth on him." See, also, the 66th chap. Isa. 
 24th verse, and no less than three places in the 9th 
 chap. Mark, read to the same purpose : " It is better 
 to go to Heaven maimed, than to go into Hell ; into 
 the fire that shall never be quenched, where the 
 worm dietli not, and the fire is not quenched." The 
 chapter we have read, denounces the same doom. 
 And I shall only instance further in the revelation 
 of Saint John the Divine; "And the third angel 
 followed them, saying with a loud voice, if any 
 man worship the beast, &c. the same shall drink of 
 the wine of the wrath of God, which is poured out 
 without mixture into the cup of his indignation; 
 and they shall be tormented with fire and brimstone, 
 and the smoke of their torment ascendeth up for 
 
176 FUTURE PUNISHMENT. 
 
 ever and everJ' These passages are so plain ami 
 pointed, that it is a wonder that there should be any 
 altercation about them. But, interested men have 
 learned the art of turning every part of Scripture to 
 serve their own opinions. And setting up their own 
 reason as their guide, have contended, that it is in- 
 consistent both with the goodness and justice of 
 God; to punish his creatures forever, for offences 
 committed in a small space of time. 
 
 But, 2dly. The demerit of sin is not to be esti- 
 mated by the time of its commission, but rather by 
 its nature and malignity. In human discipline we 
 do not think it inconsistent to punish a malefactor 
 with perpetual servitude, or with death itself, for 
 crimes committed in an instant of time. But the 
 common reply to this objection, and at the same 
 time an argument for the eternity of punishment is, 
 that sin is infinitely aggravated ; as being commit- 
 ted against God. I do not mean to strain this ar- 
 gument very far : but it is very reasonable, however, 
 that offences are more or less aggravated according 
 to the innocence, or excellency of the object against 
 whom they are committed. An offence against an 
 inferior, is worthy of stripes, or strict reparation. 
 An offence against a superior, is on that account the 
 more highly aggi'avated ; and treason against the 
 King or the supreme Magistrate of any government, 
 is punished with death. And by parity of reason- 
 ing, an offence against the King of Kings, and 
 Lord of Lords, the infinitely pure and holy God, 
 must be of infinite demerit ; and consequently, must 
 create an obligation to infinite punishment. 
 
FUTURE PUNISHMENT. 177 
 
 3dly. However men may argue speculatively, 
 upon this point, the sufferings and death of Christ, 
 1 think, put the matter out of all dispute. If a fi- 
 nite atonement could have removed the guilt of sin, 
 and satisfied the justice of God, no doubt Abraham 
 had been permitted to offer Isaac ; but when an in- 
 finite sacriiice was required, the offence must cer- 
 tainly have been infinitely heinous, and of conse- 
 quence worthy of infinite punishment. We cannot 
 without blasphemy, suppose, that the Father was so 
 lavish of the blood of his only begotten Son, as to pour 
 it out without necessity ; and if so costly an atone- 
 ment was necessary to the salvation of them that be- 
 lieve, certainly a mortal creature who by refusing to 
 believe, takes the satisfaction for sin upon himself, 
 must necessarily suffer an eternity of punishment, 
 to make up in duration, what he wants in dignity. 
 
 4thly. The nature of sin itself presents us with 
 a solid argument upon this subject. Sin, in general, 
 may be described in two particulars : the one, is the 
 want of conformity, unto ; the other, the actual trans- 
 gression of the law of God. I shall confine myself 
 for the present, to the former distinction, and if the 
 one be sufficient, the other certainly will increase 
 the guilt. Sin, according to the original expression, 
 signifies literally, to miss the mark. In prosecution 
 of this idea of it, I observe, (as it is agreed upon 
 all hands,) that the chief end of man is to glorify 
 God and to enjoy him forever. Now when we di- 
 rect our aim to a different object, we miss the proper 
 end of our creation ; and as an arrow shot beyond 
 the mark, the longer it flies, is but the furtlier dis- 
 tant ; so the soul of man being an active principle, 
 
 23 
 
178 FUTURE PUNISHMENT. 
 
 and destitute of original righteousness, must wander 
 further and further from God. Now the only method 
 of recovery, is through Jesus Christ, who with strik- 
 ing propriety is said to hring us back to God, and 
 unless we lay hold of this hope that is set before us, 
 >ve must eternally wander from the presence of the 
 Lord and from the glory of his power. Accord- 
 ingly it is said of the wicked, that they are afar off 
 from God. And, to conclude this argument, we 
 may observe in the fifth place, that the day of God's 
 grace lasts only while we live. If we die filthy, 
 we must be filthy still ; for there is no working, 
 nor faith, nor repentance in the grave whither we 
 all haste ; but as the tree falleth, so it lieth, and 
 as death leaveth us, so will judgment find us. It 
 is a fixed decree, that without holiness, no man shall 
 see God : and our Saviour said to ISicodemus, " Ex- 
 cept a man be born of water and the spirit, he can- 
 not enter into the Kingdom of God." We have 
 reason to believe also, that if we perish finally, we 
 shall continue even in torment to sin against God. 
 It is said in revelation, where there is a description 
 of those miserable souls that suffer under the pliials 
 of God's wrath, that they were scorched with heat 
 and blasphemed the God of Heaven because of their 
 pains, and repented not to give God glory. But if 
 we did not add to our guilt, if we should be so 
 miserable as to go to hell, vain would be all our 
 hopes of Heaven. For, if we die unfit for tl)at holy 
 place, the longest and the severest punishment 
 -would not entitle us to it. The children of God 
 themselves suffer punishment in Jesus Christ; that 
 is, he suffered it for them ; but this is not sufficient ; 
 
THE GENERAL JUDGMENT. 179 
 
 for by the grace of God, they must be made holy 
 here, that they may be happy hereafter: And if with- 
 out holiness no man can see God, miserable beyond 
 expression must be their fate who die in their sins. 
 
 ON THE GENERAL JUDGMENT. 
 
 " Because he hath appointed a day, in the which he 
 will judge the world in righteousness by that man 
 whom he hath ordained ; whereof he hath given 
 assurance unto all men, in that he hath raised hint 
 from the deadJ^' 
 
 Acts 17, 31st verse. 
 
 The frequent assurances of a general judgment 
 which are given in Scripture, serve to account, 
 amongst other things, for the unequal distribution of 
 mercies, and of punishments in the present life. 
 Upon any other supposition, the prosperity of the 
 wicked, and the calamities of righteous men, would 
 hardly be consistent, either with tiie justice or good- 
 ness which we ascribe to God. David seems to 
 have been an attentive observer of the unequal lot 
 of the sinner and the religious man, and could not 
 discern the propriety of it, until he went into the 
 sanctuary of God, and saw their different end. If 
 
180 THE GENERAL JUDGMENT. 
 
 we should subscribe to the heresy of those "who con- 
 tend that there will be no future state of retribution, 
 we must either deny the interposition of God's 
 righteous Providence, or call in question his justice 
 and benevolence. The latter of these suppositions 
 is too shocking to be avowed by any ; but the for- 
 mer has had its advocates. They have represented 
 the aflTairs of men as too trivial to attract the notice 
 and attention of the Almighty. But this is to di- 
 minish his greatness, instead of extolling it, and that 
 at the expense of all his other attributes. Can he 
 be wearied or embarrassed by a multiplicity of 
 cares ? Is it to be supposed that he should make 
 the world and its inhabitants, without any regard to 
 the administration of the one, or the transactions of 
 the other ? Surely not. But, it may be asked, if 
 God does behold the affairs of men, is it not an im- 
 peacliment of his justice, that good men should be 
 depressed and the wicked triumphant? Why does 
 vice pass with impunity ? And why does virtue suf- 
 fer without compensation ? '1 he words of the text 
 solve all the diflficulty that attends this question, 
 and afford a full and satisfactory answer. " He 
 hath appointed a day in the which he will judge the 
 world in righteousness." We will first attend to 
 what the Scriptures inform us of this awful and im- 
 portant truth, and then recur to such other sources 
 of information, as may further serve to confirm it. 
 In the first place, then, althou2;h God in his wise 
 Providence suffers many calamities to befal the 
 righteous, and permits the wicked to prosper in their 
 wickedness, he has not left the former comfortless, 
 nor withholden his testimony against the latter. To 
 
THE GENERAL JUDGMENT. 181 
 
 the one, he has aJGTorded the most certain assurances 
 of a happy issue out of all their troubles ; and to 
 the other, he has given the most solemn denuncia- 
 tions of his wrath. 
 
 When we examine the sacred records of God, 
 we will find indeed, that the passages which con- 
 tain this doctrine, are neither so numerous, nor so 
 clear in the Old Testament, as in the New. But, 
 in neither the one nor the other, has he left himself 
 without a witness, his children without hope, or to 
 his enemies any colour of excuse. This ray of 
 Heavenly hope, darted athwart the gloom of sorrow 
 which surrounded Job, and cheered his afflictions 
 with the prospect of happier days. "Though 
 worms destroy this body," says he, ** yet in ray tlesh 
 shall 1 see God, whom I shall see for myself, and 
 my eyes behold him.^' The revelation of this 
 truth also corrected the errors into which the Psal- 
 mist David was about to fall, on account of his own 
 distresses and the prosperous situation of wicked 
 men. " I was envious at the foolish," says he, 
 " when I saw the prosperity of the wicked, until I 
 went into thy sanctuary : there saw I, their end. 
 Surely thou didst set them in slippery places." 
 '^ The Lord cometh," says he, " he cometh to judge 
 the earth ; he shall judge the world with righteous- 
 ness, and the people with his truth." 
 
 " Let us hear," saith Solomon, " the conclusion 
 of the whole matter : Fear God and keep his com- 
 mandments, for this is the whole duty of man ; for 
 God will bring every work into judgment, with eve- 
 ry secret thing, whether it be good, or whether it 
 be evil." 
 
182 THE GENERAL JUDGMENT. 
 
 I might nieiition several other passages of similar 
 import in the writings of the Prophets, but as some, 
 perhaps, account tliem rather equivocal in their 
 meaning, I shall pass them over in silence. The 
 Gospel of our Saviour abounds in the most pointed 
 declarations of a final judgment. The Apostle 
 Paul represents the fallen Angels as being reserved 
 in chains of darkness unto the judgment of the 
 great day. And of sinful and impenitent men, he 
 says, that ^' they treasure up unto themselves wrath 
 against the day of wrath, and the revelation of the 
 righteous judgment of God, who will render to eve- 
 ry man according to his deeds ; to them who by 
 patient continuance in well-doing, seek for glory and 
 honour, immortality and eternal life : But indigna- 
 tion and wrath, tribulation and anguish to every 
 soul of man that doeth wickedly." Saint John in 
 20th chapter of the revelation gives us a descrip- 
 tion of the dreadful glory of the Judge's throne, and 
 the solemnity of the last day. " And I saw a great 
 white throne, and him that sat on it : And 1 saw the 
 dead, small and great, stand before God ; and the 
 books were opened, and the dead were judged, out 
 of those things which were written in the books, 
 according to their works. And the sea gave up the 
 dead that were in it, and death and hell delivered 
 up the dead which were in them ; and they were 
 judged every man, according to his works." And, 
 finally, our blessed Lord himself has described the 
 process of the general judgment, with the most aw- 
 ful majesty. "When the son of man shall come 
 in his glory, and all the holy angels with him, then 
 shall he sit upon the throne of his glory. And be- 
 
THE GENERAL JUDGMENT. 183 
 
 fore him sball be gathered all nations ; and he shall 
 separate them, one from another, as a Shepherd di- 
 videth his sheep from the goats : And he shall set 
 the sheep on his right hand, but the goats on the 
 left. Then shall the King say unto them on his 
 right hand. Come ye blessed of my Father, inherit 
 the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation 
 of the world. Then shall he say also unto them 
 on the left, Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlast- 
 ing fire prepared for the devil and his angels. And 
 these shall go away into everlasting punishment, but 
 the righteous into life eternal." Such then is the 
 doctrine which the Scriptures teach us on this inte- 
 resting subject. But in as much as the Scriptures 
 are not deemed sufficient authority by those who pre- 
 tend to have discovered that they are cunning fables, 
 it will be proper to observe, that there are also other 
 sources of information, from which we may derive 
 instruction upon this important matter. 
 
 Independently of revelation, it seems to have been 
 the universal persuasion of the world, that there 
 ■will he a future state of retribution. The more 
 virtuous of the Heathens, comforted themselves un- 
 der the calamities of the present life, by the pleas- 
 ing prospect of the Elysian fields. These they 
 supposed were allotted for the habitation of upright 
 meu, where their attachment to virtue should meet 
 "with its reward. It was obvious to them, that in 
 the present world, there was nearly the same lot to 
 the virtuous and tiie wicked, the just and the unjust, 
 the philosopher and the libertine ; and from these 
 observations they were led to conclude, that some 
 time or other, the dift'ereuce between the two >vould 
 
184 THE GENERAL JUDGMENT. 
 
 be finally adjusted ; the one should be rewarded, 
 and the other punished. The happy plains were 
 prepared for a retreat to the wise and virtuous, 
 whilst the wicked were doomed after this life to the 
 most dreary and loathsome abodes. The voice of 
 the people in this instance may, 1 think, be reasona- 
 bly considered as the voice of God to man. Though 
 the Heathen were not favoured with the light of 
 revelation, yet as the Apostle Paul has expressed 
 it, they were a law unto themselves. God had en- 
 graven it on their hearts. 
 
 Again, the very frame of the human mind affords 
 evidence in support of this truth. Every man by 
 appealing to what passes within himself, may be 
 very well satisfied, that some time or other, God 
 will assuredly judge the world. It is very remarka- 
 ble, that he hath not left himself without a witness. 
 He has impressed on the mind of man, an indeli- 
 ble sense of right and wrong, to which we give the 
 general name of conscience. From this principle 
 it is, that we derive inward satisfaction from the 
 consciousness of upright conduct; and from this 
 principle it is, that remorse and fear pursue us in 
 every deviation from the path of rectitude. The 
 Apostle Paul produced this, in confirmation of re- 
 vealed truth, when he said " We commend our- 
 selves to every man's conscience." And of the 
 Gentiles, who had not the law, he said, that they 
 <' shewed the works of the law written in their hearts, 
 their conscience also bearing witness, and their 
 thoughts, the meanwhile, accusing or else excusing 
 one another." This conscience, then, this universal 
 sense of riarht and wrons;, is the vicegerent of God 
 
THE GENERAL JUDGMENT. 186 
 
 in the human heart. It is implanted there as the 
 centiuel of virtue, and the monitor of guilt It sup- 
 ports the good man in his integrity : it arrests and 
 condemns the wicked for his sins. It applauds the 
 one for his virtue ; it uphraids the other for his vice : 
 it presents the former with the hopes of glory ; and 
 it alarms the latter with the fears of punishment. 
 The sense of guilt is always attended with the fear 
 of judgment either here or hereafter. It destroys 
 the peace and tranquility of the mind, and torments 
 the culprit with the painful forebodings of approach- 
 ing ruin. Whence is it that we are often filled with 
 inward terror, when the w^orld smiles upon us, and 
 there is nothing apparently to make us afraid ? It 
 proceeds from the twinges of a guilty conscience, 
 which tells us we have done wrong, and arrests us 
 for our crimes. Whence is it, that when the dark- 
 ness of the night shall have secured us against de- 
 tection, and precluded the apprehensions of tempo- 
 ral punishment, the sense of guilt still haunts our 
 minds, and preys upon our spirits ? It is conscience 
 presenting to the wicked the fear of something af- 
 ter death. It torments us before the time by sum- 
 moning us to judgment. Whence is it that the 
 wicked man is dismayed and feareth where no fear 
 is ? Why does he startle at a shadow and flee when 
 no man pursueth ? It is owing to this universal sense 
 of good and evil desert, wliich ever carries with it 
 the awful sanction of rewards and punishments. 
 We have a remarkable instance of this, in the case of 
 Herod, on account of John the Baptist. The story 
 is well known of his beheading the Baptist to grati- 
 fy the humours of a resentful woman. Therefore^ 
 
 24 
 
186 THE GENERAL JUDGMENT. 
 
 when the fame of Jesus reached the ears of Herod, 
 the cruelty of the murder he had perpetrated, re- 
 curred to his miud, and filled him with the most 
 dreadful apprehensions. His fears suggested, that 
 it must be John who had risen w itli power to take 
 vengeance on him. He said, "that John the Bap- 
 tist was risen from the dead, an«l therefore, mighty 
 works do shew forth themselves in him." But some, 
 to pacify him, probably, said it was Elias ; and 
 others said, that it is a Prophet. But all this would 
 not appease the clamours of a guilty conscience. 
 No, said the wretched Tetrarch, "It is John whom 
 1 beheaded, he is risen from the dead.'' The situa- 
 tion of Felix was somewhat similar to this, save, 
 that his crimes were more numerous, and if possi- 
 ble, more aggravated. When Paul reasoned before 
 him of truth and righteousness, he discovered no 
 emotion. But when he mentioned a judgment to 
 come, his guilt acknowledged its obligation to pun- 
 ishment and Kelix trembled. This, in different de- 
 giees, is the same in all bad men ; it seems insepa- 
 rable from our very nature. What then can be the 
 reason of this ? And what does it indicate ? Can 
 this principle be implanted in us, for no other pur- 
 pose but to disquiet and torment us ? "So : This 
 awful trial at the tribunal of conscience, is but the 
 anticipation of a more solemn and decisive judg- 
 ment at the tribunal of God. 
 
 Permit me to observe, once more upon this sub- 
 ject, that the very reason and nature of the thing, 
 render a future judgment and retribution, extremely 
 probable, if not absolutely certain. If it be ac- 
 knowledged that God is a lover of truth and jus- 
 
THE GENERAL JUDGMENT. 187 
 
 tice, integrity and mercy ; auvl tliat the opposite 
 vices are the objects of his abhorreucx*, and detesta- 
 tion, is it not reasonably to be expectt<l, that he 
 will some time or other testify his approbaUon of 
 pious and Godly men, and make known his dis- 
 pleasure against the sons of falsehood, injustice, 
 treachery and violence ? That he will one day es- 
 pouse the cause of his obedient and faithful ser- 
 vants, and take vengeance on his adversaries ? To 
 suppose the contrary, would be to suppose that pie- 
 ty and virtue, irreverence and vice, that justice and 
 humanity, cruelty and fraud, were all alike to him; 
 and that he neither loved the one nor hated the other. 
 If, therefore, there ip no marked distinction made 
 between them here, in the situation of those who 
 respectively practise them, is it not certain that a 
 wide difference will be made hereafter? Will not 
 the God of justice punish the guilty? Will not the 
 God of grace protect the obedient and reward the 
 faithful ? But, in the present world it is evident 
 that this is not the case. It is long since the wise 
 man observed, that ^' It happened to the righteous 
 a,ccording to the works of the wicked ; and to the 
 wicked, according to the work of the righteous." 
 The Psalmist also complained, that the righteous 
 were involved in calamities, whilst the wicked flour- 
 ished " like a green bay tree." We see plainly, in- 
 deed, that there is an essential difference in the con- 
 duct and character of men. There are some, who 
 from the fairest estimation that we can make, are 
 honest, upright, and pious men. They maintain 
 their integrity, in their worldly intercourse. 'J^hey 
 are consciencious in their dealings, true to theu* word, 
 
188 THE GENERAL JUDGMENT. 
 
 merciful in their Jisposition, and sober in their 
 general deportment. They appear also, as far as 
 we can jn-i§e> to fear and love God, to reverence his 
 nsLmc, and pay respect to his commandments. But 
 fliese characters are contrasted by others in every 
 point of view. They observe none of these things : 
 They are fraudulent, false, insidious : They are 
 cruel and implacable, unjust and oppressive. — 
 They traduce the innocent ; they trample on tlie 
 helpless ; they over-reach the simple ; they defraud 
 the widow and the orphan ; they grind and oppress 
 the poor ; they pay no respect to God their maker ; 
 they profane his holy name ; and they violate his 
 sacred laws. In short, they fear not God, nor re- 
 gard man. We observe a striking difference in 
 these two characters, but we do not see the same 
 difference in their lot. The virtuous do not meet 
 with that prosperity, nor with that favour from their 
 fellow-men, which their virtue seems to merit ; nor 
 are the unrighteous visited with those afflictions 
 which their crimes deserve. No : the case is more 
 frequently reversed. It happens to the wicked ac- 
 cording to the works of the righteous, and vice versa. 
 The virtuous suffer and the wicked prosper. Tears 
 are often the repast of the Godly, while the ungod- 
 ly are revelling in mirth and wine. The rich man 
 fared sumptuously every day, while Lazarus lay at 
 his gate a beggar. God seems entirely to have for- 
 gotten the just ; he suffers them to endure perils, and 
 nakedness, and hunger and thirst. Nay, one of 
 his promises to them is, that in this world they sliall 
 have tiibulation He seems to declare himself here 
 on the side of the wicked. He suffers them to pros- 
 
THE GENERAL JUDGMENT. 189 
 
 pot in their wickedness. Their eyes stand out with 
 fatness ; they are permitted here to carry it with a 
 high hand ; they oppress the meek, and increase 
 their own subst.ince by their ruins ; they strip them 
 of their goods, and laugh them and their religion to 
 scorn. Their very religion seems to entail calamity 
 upon them in this world. It inculcates the forgive- 
 ness, not the revenge of injuries. They are to be 
 patient, submissive, and innocent ; and when they 
 are reviled, they are not to revile again, nor to re- 
 turn railing for railing. One would think indeed, 
 that the practice of such virtues should secure them 
 from the persecutions of the world. But where has 
 it been known, that the innocence of the lamb pro- 
 tected him from the rapacity of the wolf? The 
 world declares itself against them, and the sons of 
 violence triumph over them. Witness the number- 
 less victims that fell in the repeated persecutions 
 under the Roman Emperors, and also on various 
 other occasions. Men, of whom the world was not 
 worthy, have been accounted not worthy to live, 
 and have been accordingly put to death on account 
 of their religion. And, in every age of the world, 
 they have been derided. And will this always be 
 the case ? Shall the favours of the Almighty be 
 the only punishment of vice ? And sufferings, con- 
 tempt and sneer, the only recompense of virtue ? It 
 cannot be. Surely, (jod some time or other, will re- 
 member the sufferings and fidelity of his people : 
 he will come to judge the world in righteousness, 
 and give to every man according to his deeds. Such 
 is the reason of things. It belongs also to this part 
 of the subject, to observe, that the very nature 
 
190 THE GENERAL JUDGMENT. 
 
 of virtue, and in many instances, of vice, requires 
 that tliere siiould be a general aud a public trial. 
 There are many virtuous exertions and exercises of 
 the religious, that are necessarily concealed from the 
 world. Self-examination, self-denial, confession of 
 sin, contrition for it, and humiliation before God, 
 are of this kind. There are some transactions al- 
 so, which are only virtuous, in proportion as they 
 are secret, or intended to be so. To this class be- 
 long the distribution of alms, and the devotions of 
 the closet, in which the Christian is not to sound a 
 trumpet before him, but address himself to God who 
 seeth in secret. The purity of the heart, humble 
 resignation to the will of God, and trust in his pro- 
 mises are highly pleasing in the sight of God, but are 
 in a great measure concealed from the observation 
 of men. The meek and humble Christian often 
 walks obscurely through life, disregarded, or per- 
 haps despised by the world. On the other hand, 
 there are many vices also which lurk secretly in 
 the heart, and which fail of opportunities to come 
 forth in practice. There are many also which are 
 committed under a veil ; many works of darkness 
 which are concealed from the world. 
 
 In all such instances, then, justice seems to re- 
 quire, that the obscure and humble Christian should 
 be exalted, and publicly receive the praise of God. 
 It is obvious, tiiat our Saviour intended this, when 
 he said, " Thy Father w ho seeth in secret, sliall 
 reward thee openly." It is highly proper also, that 
 the secret workers of iniquity should be brought 
 forth to light ; that the mask should be stripped 
 off, and their w orks of darkness made manifest ; in 
 
THE UNCERTAINTY OF FUTURE EVENTS. 191 
 
 order that the final sentence may be justified by the 
 assembled universe. In short, reason and justice 
 require, that all men should one day appear in their 
 proper colours, and be finally judged according to 
 their real character. 
 
 THE UNCERTAINTY TO US OF 
 FUTURE EVENTS. 
 
 " JFbr he Jcnoweth not that which shall be ; for who 
 can tell him when it shall he ?" 
 
 Ecclesiastes, 8th chap, 7th verse. 
 
 The narrow limits to which the knowledge of 
 man extends, is a subject of common observation, 
 and too frequently of complaint. Our perception of 
 things in the present state of being is so faint, that 
 we can only see a few objects which are near at 
 hand, and even them but indistinctly : For " we 
 see," as the Apostle has expressed it, ''^ through a 
 glass darkly." Inquisitive minds are apt to be dis- 
 contented with this, and make that consideration to 
 excite their murmurs, which should rather be im- 
 proved to suppress their vanity. In addition to this; 
 there seems to be a prevailing desire in men, to pry 
 into futurity, and anticipate the events that are to 
 
192 THE UNCERTAINTY OF FUTURE EVENTS. 
 
 befal them, in the various stages of their progress 
 through life. It has been supposed that it would 
 contribute much to the promotion of our temporal 
 interest, if we could know before-hand the many 
 favourable opportunities which the succession of 
 time alone presents. The avoiding of the calami- 
 ties of life, which w^e inconsiderately call accidents, 
 would also be another very desirable acquisition of 
 this extensive foresight. By this estimation too, 
 men are led to suppose that it would be highly con- 
 ducive to their most important interests in the future 
 "W^orld, if they could be apprised of the time of their 
 death. On a due preparation for this great event, 
 their eternal happiness depends, and it would seem 
 to be a great advantage, if they knew precisely 
 their appointed time. In this case they would know 
 how to regulate the business of their lives, and 
 ■would not be in perpetual hazard of being cut ofip 
 in the midst of their sins, while they w ere indulg- 
 ing their pleasures of the present moment, or ex- 
 tending their prospects into future life. The aged, 
 indeed, could not reasonably calculate on any great 
 length of days ; and their time of life would, of it- 
 self, admonish them to retire from the bustle, and 
 profits, and vices of the world ; but the young 
 would seem to stand in need of some security 
 against the suddenness of surprize. Such reason- 
 ing appears at first view, to be very plausible, and 
 to have considerable weight j.for, really it does seem, 
 that to know certainly the time of our dissolution 
 would have a great tendency to check the presump- 
 tion of youth, and restore that activity to the old, 
 which their years have taken from them. 
 
THE UNCERTAINTY OF FUTURE EVENTS. 193 
 
 I hope, therefore, it will not be time mispent, to 
 enter more minutely into the consideration of this 
 subject. The investigation of the premises will 
 serve to convince us, that the present disposition of 
 affairs is, on the whole, the best ; and that it is a 
 mark both of the wisdom and goodness of God, that 
 lie has concealed from us not only the future scenes 
 of life, but also the time of our final departure. 
 
 From the present situation of the world, it is al- 
 together necessary that we should meet with sorrow 
 and tribulation. These are the inevitable conse- 
 quence of sin, and the standing marks of God's dis- 
 pleasure. On this account, the Apostle says, " The 
 whole creation groaneth."* If men were innocent, 
 the permission of these might be considered as a 
 charge against the dispensations of Providence, but 
 as they are involved in guilt and exposed to ruin, 
 the impeachment of God's justice gives way to the 
 acknowledgment and admiration of his mercy. An 
 uninterrupted series of earthly prosperity, would 
 confirm men in the forgetfulness of their Creator, and 
 of themselves. But afflictions have a tendency 
 to put them in remembrance of their sins, and of 
 '' working out for them," according to the language 
 of Scripture, "a far more exceeding and eternal 
 weight of glory." The design, and frequently the 
 happy effect of them, is to wean our affections from 
 this world, and engage us to seek a better country, 
 even a Heavenly. Now, if these were entirely sus- 
 pended, or we were endued with such forecast, as 
 to enable us to foresee and avoid them, not only 
 these good purposes would be altogether frustrated, 
 but we would be encouraged to run into many fatal 
 
 25 
 
194 THE UNCERTAINTY OF FUTURE EVENTS. 
 
 excesses, from which we would otherwise refrain. 
 A very material difference would take place to our 
 disadvantage ; for instead of considering our afflic- 
 tions as the consequence of our sins, we should con- 
 sider our prosperity as the reward of our merits. 
 As events are now, the common bounties of God's 
 Providence are undeserved mercies, and even the 
 corrections of his rod are blessings in disguise ; but 
 as we would have them by this alteration, all afflic- 
 tions would be called cruelty, and his goodness on- 
 ly would be just. It is easy to see, then, that such 
 a dispensation of things would be illy suited to our 
 real situation, as guilty sinners. 
 
 From the attention we have given to the subject, in 
 this point of view, we may already venture to con- 
 clude, that it would contribute nothing to our happi- 
 ness, if our desires should be gratified, and we 
 had a foreknowledge of the different scenes of life 
 through which we had to pass. We see from the 
 whole face of nature, as well as from the word of 
 God, that sin and sorrow are inseparable compan- 
 ions. A total exemption, then, is not to be expected. 
 But, were we even secure ourselves against the 
 reach of calamity, which is far from being the case, 
 we must still be involved in the distresses of our 
 friends. To know them before-hand, would be to 
 make them more grievous, for we could not avoid an- 
 ticipating them before they arrived. Like a heavy 
 weight, they would continually depress our spirits, 
 and our imagination would paint them in more 
 gloomy colours than they really deserved. In most 
 cases, I believe, they Mould be fiir less oppressive 
 by coming unexpectedly. We may add to this. 
 
THE UNCERTAINTY OF FUTURE EVENTS. 195 
 
 that the previous knowledge of them, would dis- 
 qualify us for relishing the enjoyments of the pre- 
 sent time. Perfect happiness is utterly inconsistent 
 with our present situation, but God has graciously 
 ordained, that we should not be completely wretch- 
 ed. There is a mixture of pleasure and of pain ; but 
 Were this alteration to be made, the former would 
 be banished the earth. Any comfortable circum- 
 stances in which we might be placed, would be em- 
 bittered by the painful forebodings of approachiug 
 evil. Even the noise and sprightliness of mirth 
 and festivity, would subside into silent pensive me- 
 lancholy, from the anticipation of the doleful scene 
 with which it would be concluded. Most proba- 
 bly we should have sunk under the misfortunes 
 which we have already surmounted, if they had 
 found our spirits exhausted by the long expectation 
 of them. And did we know all the scenes of sor- 
 row through which we have yet to pass, it is liardly 
 to be doubted, but that every countenance in this 
 assembly would bear many marks of sadness. — 
 That active fancy Avhich now perhaps gilds our pre- 
 sent prospects, would be employed in depicting all 
 the wretchedness of woe. Were the prosperous 
 and opulent apprised, that in the vicissitude of hu- 
 man afl'airs, their situation should be reversed, and 
 they would end their days in poverty and want, the 
 unwelcome prospect would be continually preying 
 on their spirits. They would think themselves im- 
 poverished in the midst of plenty, and long before 
 the event took place, they would bid adieu to all 
 their greatness. Did the vigorous and blooming 
 know, that in a few days they would be stretched on 
 
196 THE UNCERTAINTY OF FUTURE EVENTS. 
 
 a bed of sickness, such information would not onlj 
 deprive them of the enjo^ ment of health, but hasten 
 the catastrophe by a previous disposition. 
 
 With our friends too, we are intimately concerned; 
 our own happiness depends in a great measure on 
 them. We rejoice with those that rejoice, and weep 
 with those that weep. An addition to our knowledge 
 in this case also, would be but an addition to our 
 tears. Our children, for instance ; we rejoice at 
 their nativity, and our fond prospects increase with 
 their years. We know indeed, that they are born 
 into a world in which danger and trouble abound ; 
 but we invoke the blessing of God upon them, in 
 liumble confidence, that he will protect and guide 
 them. We entertain many an anxious fear on their 
 account, but hope prevails. Were we permitted 
 to pry into their future destiny, and see the afflic- 
 tions marked in their lot, in ten thousand instances 
 the joy that sparkles in the fond parents' eyes, and 
 fills their hearts, would disappear, and prophetic 
 sadness take its place. This blindness to the future, 
 then, is kindly given. It may, perliaps, strengthen 
 this persuasion to remark here, on the great un happi- 
 ness which many persons bring upon themselves by 
 the groundless fears of imaginary evils. 1 mean 
 those who terrify themselves by the interpretation 
 of their dreams. These are construed into omens 
 or warnings of some calamity, which is soon to be- 
 fal them. Tliey have a powerful efl'ect on supersti- 
 tious minds, and are made the source of great and 
 constant uneasiness. Their fancy goes in quest of 
 adventures by night, and they employ their waking 
 hours in watching for their accomplishiuent. 
 
THE UNCERTAINTY OF FUTURE EVENTS. 197 
 
 I shall not go into any enquiry after the origin 
 or import of dreams. I only introduce them for the 
 sake of observing, that if the groundless apprehen- 
 sion of evils, be made the cause of so much disqui- 
 etude, the certain fore-knowledge of them would be 
 much more tormenting, and produce despair instead 
 of fear. But, it has been observed, that life does 
 not consist of evils only ; many blessings are also 
 bestowed to qualify the cup of affliction. Let us 
 suppose, then, the case to be reversed, and that, in 
 the midst of our distresses, we were consoled by the 
 assurance of prosperous and happy days. Would 
 not the fore-knowledge of them be an unspeakable 
 advantage? AVould it not efl'ectually support the 
 mind, and prevent much murmuring and discon- 
 tent? 
 
 If we take into the account, our future, as well 
 as present happiness, this situation, in all proba- 
 bility, would be worse than the former. The one 
 seems unfriendly to the prospects of time ; the other 
 would be as much so, to the more important inter- 
 ests of eternity. Such a fore-knowledge, however, 
 would not be so conducive as might be imagined, 
 even to our present happiness. It would, inevitably, 
 lead to some disappointment. The desired object 
 would seldom prove equal to the fond ideas which 
 it had excited, and we would find less of enjoyment 
 in the possession, than we promised ourselves in the 
 pursuit. This almost always proves to be the case 
 with blessings merely temporal. But, as far as the 
 prospect operates, it would thwart all the designs 
 and purposes of afflictions. These should be im- 
 proved, to wean our affections from this w orld, and 
 
198 THE UNCERTAINTY OF FUTURE EVENTS. 
 
 teach us to seek the Kingdom of Heaven, where all 
 tears shall be wiped away forever. It would make 
 us too well pleased with our present situation, and 
 totally negligent of the Heavenly inheritance. If, 
 as has been suggested, it would secure us from im- 
 patience and repining, in adverse circumstances, it 
 would also remove the necessary trials of our vir- 
 tue, and supersede the exercise of submission and 
 resignation to the providence of God. On the whole, 
 then, instead of endeavoring to pry into those things 
 which God has been pleased to conceal, we ought 
 rather adore the goodness and mercy of God in the 
 present disposition of affairs. 
 
 As to the tendency of these supposed circumstan- 
 ces, to increase our earthly treasures, it proceeds 
 upon a mistaken calculation, which is scarcely worth 
 the rectifying. I shall, therefore, pass on to consi- 
 der, briefly, the other part of the subject, which re- 
 lates to the previous knowledge of our death. 
 
 This has been within the secret wishes of many, 
 and on a superficial view of the subject, it would 
 appear a desirable acquisition. We should be in- 
 clined to think it would assist us much in our prepa- 
 ration for this important event, to know, precisely, 
 when it would happen. The young, particularly, 
 would not devote the prime and vigor of their lives 
 to pleasure, and to sin, if they knew that they m ould 
 never arrive to manhood. They would begin their 
 days in the fear of God, and engage, with earnest- 
 ness in the duties of religion, if the deceitful hope 
 of a long and a prosperous life were once taken from 
 them. 
 
THE UNCERTAINTY OF FUTURE EVENTS* 199 
 
 That this would universally be the case, seems, 
 to many, highly probable; yet, it is far from be- 
 ing certain. But, if it be granted, that it should, 
 what would become of the improvements of this 
 world ? The strength and activity of the young, 
 who are most inclined to vigorous enterprise, would 
 be lost to society. They would seclude themselves 
 from the company and the concerns of men. They 
 would consider themselves as having no interest 
 here, and would, therefore, be too indifferent about 
 the duties of social and domestic life. They would 
 withdraw from the society of men, retire into the 
 gloominess of solitude, and sequester themselves 
 from all the busy scenes of life. The consequence 
 would be, that a great part of the world would be 
 uncomfortable to themselves, and entirely useless, 
 if not a burthen to society. Cities would be slow ia 
 rising; improvement in Literature would receive a 
 check; the Arts and Sciences languish. The du- 
 ties of our relative situation, would be held iu low 
 estimation, and the designs of Providence, with re- 
 gard to the affairs of time, in a great measure frus- 
 trated. 
 
 Besides, what a melancholy prospect would 
 such a situation of affairs present? A perpetual 
 gloom would hang on the countenances of those who 
 were doomed, in their youth, to death. They would 
 be like criminals under sentence of condemnation, 
 without hope of reprieve. They would wear a pen- 
 sive melancholy look, which would also depress the 
 spirits of all that beheld them. On every side, we 
 should hear the voice of mourning. The father's 
 joy would be turned into giief, and many a Rachael 
 
200 THE UNCERTAINTY OF FUTURE EVENTS. 
 
 would weep for her children, as though they already 
 were not. The brother, the sister, and the friend^ 
 would all share in the general distress. 
 
 Neither does it appear, that these circumstances 
 would be as favourable to religion, as we at first 
 imagined. They would, in a great degree, preclude 
 a deliberate choice. Our actions would be the ef- 
 fect of constraint, and proceed from a principle of 
 fear rather than of love. 
 
 Add to this, that our friends would consider it a 
 charitable office to divert our minds as much as 
 possible from our approaching fate. A variety of 
 amusements and of company, would be employed, 
 for the purpose. In order to gain a little ease, we 
 ourselves would probably be disposed to favor the 
 cheat, until the number of our days would be ful- 
 filled, and we should die suddenly, that is, unex- 
 pectedly, at last. 
 
 But, again, upon this supposition, there would be 
 those who would know that they had a great ma- 
 ny days before them, and that they should live to 
 an advanced age. Such a fore-knowledge would 
 certainly be unfavorable to the interests of religion, 
 and of their own souls. If, in the instance before 
 mentioned, men should be excited to a speedy pre- 
 paration for eternity, from the certain intimation, 
 that the time was short, in the one now before us, 
 the assurance of a long life, would have a contrary 
 effect, and prove a great encouragement to all man- 
 ner of vice. In vain would you exhort them to 
 "Remember their Creator in the days of their 
 youth.'' Such an exhortation would be highly pro- 
 per to those who should not survive that period, but 
 
THE UNCERTAINTY OF FUTURE EVENTS. 201 
 
 to those who could count on fifty, sixty, or seventy 
 years, or more, it would be quite unseasonable, if not 
 wholly impertinent. The most pressing calls and ad- 
 monitions of the Gospel, would receive no better an- 
 swer than, " Oo your way for this time; sixty years 
 hence will be time enough for me to think of reli- 
 gion. I will rejoice in my strength, my heart shall 
 cheer me in the days of my youth, and when the 
 time draws nigh, when old age arrives, and I can 
 no longer enjoy the pleasures of life, then I will call 
 for you." When we consider the depravity of hu- 
 man nature, its proneness to evil, and its aversion 
 for that which is good, there does not remain a doubt 
 but that this would be the case. As Providence 
 now stands, we see that men will not be deterred 
 from the commission of the most deadly sins, when 
 they do not know but that they may be cut oS in 
 the very act of perpetration, and be summoned to 
 appear at the bar of God. The uncertainty of life 
 is, in most cases, a powerful restraint; but what 
 would be the consequence, if this were taken off? 
 Who, then, would be afraid to sin, especially when 
 they recollected that they would have suflBcient 
 warning, and time enough to repent? They would, 
 therefore, indulge themselves in the gratification of 
 their wicked inclinations ; they would wal k in the 
 sight of their own eyes, and according to the ima- 
 ginations of their hearts, having none to make them 
 afraid. They would give a loose to licentiousness, 
 and iniquities would abound more and more. And, 
 I pray you, what an uncomfortable and tumultuous 
 scene would this world be. Indeed, it is bad enough 
 now. Men of piety and religion have sufficient 
 
 26 
 
202 THE UNCERTAINTY OF FUTURE EVENTS. 
 
 cause to mourn for their own sins, and the sins of 
 the land. But, let the fear of death be removed, 
 and a torrent of iniquity would bear down all be- 
 fore it. We should be beset on all sides, with the 
 violence of the rude, the snares of the designing, the 
 deceit of the fraudulent, and the cruelties of the 
 oppressive. But the presumption is, that we would 
 repent of all these, and make our peace with God 
 when the time of our death approached. This would 
 not take us by surprise ; and, therefore, we would be 
 prepared for it. In this, too, we reckon without our 
 host. Sin is not only fatal in its consequences, but 
 hardening in its nature. The frequent repetition of 
 it renders the conscience callous, and sears it as with 
 a hot iron. " Exhort one another daily," says the 
 Apostle, '^ while it is called to-day, lest any of you 
 be hardened, through the deceitfulness of sin." — : 
 There is such a thing as sinning away our day of 
 grace : that is, of becoming so hardened in iniquity, 
 as to be proof against all the ordinary means which 
 God has ordained for our recovery. If, therefore, we 
 wilfully persisted in our sins, which we should cer- 
 tainly do, but for the preventing grace of God, there 
 would be the greatest danger that we should pro- 
 voke him to withdraw, entirely, the influences of his 
 Spirit, and give us up to hardness of heart and a 
 reprobate mind. There is a very alarming exam- 
 ple of this in Scripture : " Ephraim is joined to his 
 idols," says God, ^* let him alone." It is a very 
 mistaken notion, that we can indulge ourselves in 
 the pleasures of sin, through the course of our lives, 
 and when the time comes that we can no longer en- 
 joy them^ we can then repent, and devote the mise- 
 
ON PRAYER. 203 
 
 rable refuse of our days to God. Repentance is his 
 gift ; and this he has threatened to withhold. " Be- 
 cause 1 have called/' says he, "and ye have refu- 
 sed ; I have stretched out my hands, and no man re- 
 garded ; therefore, 1 will laugh at your calamity^, 
 and mock when your fear cometh." 
 
 ON PRAVER. 
 
 '^ But in every thhif^, by prayer and supplication 
 with thanksgivings let your requests be made 
 knoiim unto GodJ' 
 
 Philippians, 4th chap. 6th verse. 
 
 There is no duty which is more becoming in it- 
 self, more agreeable in exercise, or more beneficial 
 in its eifects, than that of prayer. It is an acknow- 
 ledgment of the sovereignty, and a token of sub- 
 mission to the will of God. It is an humble ex- 
 pression of the dependence of the creature upon the 
 power and goodness of the Creator. In its exer- 
 cise, it is the communion of the soul with God, and 
 an admission into his presence. It is to have fel- 
 lowship with the Saints and Angels which surround 
 his throne, and to join with them in their more ex- 
 alted soBgs of praise. In its effects, it is the refuge 
 
204 ON PRAYER, 
 
 of tbe needy and the afflicted. The making known 
 our waiits, procures a supply ; the cry of distress 
 is answered with deliverance ; and the effusions of 
 love, with the sweet communications of grace. It 
 is the hope of mercy in the sinner, the confidence 
 of faith in the believer, and a tribute of praise 
 from both. The definition of prayer, as given by 
 the Westminster assembly of Divines, is as follows : 
 ^* Prayer is an offering up of our desires to God for 
 things agreeable to his will, in the name of Christ, 
 with confession of our sins, and thankful acknow- 
 ledgment of his mercies." 
 
 The confession of sin is necessarily implied in 
 our petition for pardoning grace ; and Jesus Christ 
 is the door of access to God : He is the way, the 
 truth, and the life. As for the rest of the definition, 
 it is fully expressed in the words of the text. " In 
 every thing, by prayer and supplication with thanks- 
 giving, let your requests be made known unto God." 
 
 I recollect to have discoursed on this subject once 
 before, in your hearing. It was my business, then, 
 to endeavour to open to your view, the nature of 
 prayer in general ; and this, with the intention of 
 obviating such objections as might be raised against 
 this duty, from the unchangeable nature of God. 
 In answer to such, I observed to you, that prayer was 
 1st, an expression of homage from the creature to 
 the Creator, who is God over all, blessed forever ; 
 2dly, an expression of gratitude from the benefici- 
 ary to the benefactor, who is the giver of every good 
 and perfect gift; and 3dly, one of the means of 
 grace to procure his blessing, not by disposing him 
 to bestow it, but by qualifying ourselves to receive it. 
 
ON PRAYER. 205 
 
 At present, I will solicit your attention to the same 
 subject in another point of view, not less doctrinal, 
 but perhaps, more practical. I therefore beg leave 
 to submit to your consideration, the following par- 
 ticulars ; 1st, that the injunction in the text to make 
 our requests known to God by prayer, implies that, 
 of ourselves, we are needy and helpless ; 2dly, it 
 implies that God is at all times, accessible to his 
 creatures ; 3dly, that he is ready to hear and able 
 to save ; and 4thly, that he is not only quick to 
 hear, but willing to answer. 
 
 The object of prayer ; the subjects of it ; its de- 
 sign and efficacy, together with the improvement of 
 the whole, will be reserved for another occasion. 
 
 First then, when we are exhorted to make our re- 
 quests to God, the implication is obvious, that we 
 are subject to a variety of wants, and that our help 
 is placed in him. All created things are the pro- 
 ductions of his power, and are as dependent on him 
 for their continual support, as they are indebted for 
 their first creation. But man, though in various 
 respects, the noblest of his works below, is amongst 
 the most dependent of all his creatures. The frame 
 of nature subsists from age to age, in obedience to 
 the laws, and by virtue of the powers which were 
 given it at first. The sun revolves without inter- 
 ruption, in the path through which it. was directed 
 by the great Creator, when first it entered on its 
 race ; and thus it shall continue to revolve from 
 year to year, until he who gave shall also stop its 
 course ; until lie shall dissolve the frame of nature ; 
 strike off the wheels of time itself, and bid them 
 cease to roll. But it is not so with man. He is a 
 
206 ON PRAYER. 
 
 creature of few days at best, and even those he pos- 
 sesses on a precarious tenure. His life at best is 
 but a conflict between life and death ; The seeds of 
 both are sown together. Such is his constitution 
 that he requires continual supplies of nourishment to 
 keep it in repair and prevent a total dissolution. 
 For this he is dependent on the care and bounty of 
 his Heavenly Father, who gives him his food in 
 due season, and hath directed him to come to him 
 for it from day to day. Of the prayer which our 
 Lord taught to his disciples^, this is a part : " Give 
 us this day our daily bread." 
 
 In the new-born infant, we see a striking picture 
 of our condition in every stage of life. Is the help- 
 less child indebted for its preservation and support, 
 to the tender care of its parent ? So is our whole race 
 provided for, by the Father of all. Indeed, this is 
 a truth so universally acknowledged, that it stands 
 in no need of illustration, and which it would be 
 unnecessary to mention, were it not that it is so gene- 
 rally forgotten. As we approach to manhood, and 
 begin to act for ourselves, we find that our own ex- 
 ertions are required, and that our success in general, 
 is in proportion to them. By industry and econo- 
 my, men thrive in the world, and at length attain to 
 that situation which is called easy and iudependent. 
 In this situation in life, they are apt to attribute their 
 prosperity, to their own good management, and to 
 suffer the kindness of Providence to lie concealed 
 behind the very gifts which it bestows. Indepen- 
 dent, in a great measure, on their fellow-men, they 
 also lose siglit of their dependence upon God. 
 But what our Lord said to his disciples, is as true 
 
ON PRAYER. 207 
 
 in natural, as in spiritual things ; " without me ye 
 can do nothing." If man eats bread by the sweat 
 of his own brow, it is God that gives him strength 
 to labour. If he rise to opulence by success in 
 trade, it is God that gives him enterprize, and gives 
 to commerce wings. If he embark his treasures in 
 the ship, still it is God that must direct the helm, 
 command the winds and waves, and bring it safe to 
 shore. The husbandman may yoke his oxen to the 
 plough, and commit his seed to the furrow, but with- 
 out the blessing of the Almighty, he can never reap. 
 It is God that giveth the increase, and causeth the 
 earth to yiehl her fruits. 
 
 Hast thou goods laid up, O man, and yet art not 
 thankful ? Dost thou covet any more, and in the 
 greatness of thy might, lookest not up to God? Shall 
 the harvest certainly fill thy barns ? Stop ; what, 
 if he withhold the rain ? The seed shall die in the 
 ground, and all thy hopes die with it. Canst thou 
 enter into the treasures of the rain, and cause it to 
 descend upon the ground in showers? What, if God 
 make the Heavens as iron, and the Earth as brass ? 
 Soon should thy strength decay, and thy face grow 
 pale, for lack of bread. The grass would be burnt 
 up ; every green herb wither ; and nothing would be 
 sold in the shambles. Both men and beasts would 
 groan, and pine, and die with hunger. 
 
 After the same manner, it might be shewn, thai 
 
 ,of all our numerous wants, there is not one of them 
 
 which, of ourselves, we are able to supply. In God, 
 
 we live, and move, and have our being ; and unto 
 
 God, all flesh must come. 
 
208 ON PRAYER. 
 
 It is the same thing, precisely, with regard to our 
 spiritual necessities, or rather, in this respect, we are 
 even more indigent and helpless. We are repre- 
 sented in Scripture, as dead in trespasses and sins, 
 and are, therefore, altogether insufficient. We need 
 the pardon of our sins, and yet, are wholly unable 
 even to repent us of them. We need the renewal 
 of our natures, and the sanctification of our wicked 
 hearts, in order to the enjoyment of God. But, who 
 is sufficient for these things? Who can bring a 
 clean thing out of an unclean ? Not one. It may, 
 perhaps, be objected, that the appointment of the 
 means of grace, is an acknowledgment that we have 
 power to use them ; that they are conducive to the 
 end of our salvation ; and, therefore, that by the ap- 
 plication of them which is in our power, we may, 
 in the end, accomplish the great and important work. 
 Be pleased to observe, that tliere is a strict analogy 
 between the works of nature and the means of grace. 
 We may plant, and we may sow, but unless God 
 be pleased to succeed our labors, unless he be- 
 stow the early and the latter rain, the almond 
 tree shall not blossom, nor the earth yield fruit. 
 The means of grace will also prove ineffectual, un- 
 less God be pleased to accompany them with his 
 Divine aid, and grant the influences of his Holy 
 Spirit to co-operate with our own endeavors. In 
 every point of view, then, altogether helpless in our- 
 selves, all our hope and expectations are from God, 
 who has graciously promised to perfect strength in 
 our weakness, and to give the Holy Ghost to them 
 that ask him. 
 
ON PRAYER. 209 
 
 The second particular was, that we have free 
 access to God. " In every thing," says the Apos- 
 tle, "let your requests be made known unto God." 
 Although he is far exalted above our praises or 
 our highest conceptions ; although he stands in 
 no need of our services, he does not, however, 
 forbid or reject our petitions. Completely happy 
 and blessed in himself, he is not inattentive to 
 the wants of his creatures. He has been pleased 
 to establish a Throne of Grace, and invites us to 
 come to it, and find grace to help us in every time 
 of need. The very lowest of his creatures is not 
 beneath the notice of the most High. The most con- 
 temptible amongst men is not despised of the God 
 of Heaven. It is, indeed, astonishing, that such un- 
 worthy creatures as we are, should be suffered to ap- 
 proach the Sovereign of the Universe ; that such sin- 
 ful and polluted creatures should be admitted into 
 the Holy presence of the King of Saints. Yet, this 
 is not enough. We abridge our own privileges, and 
 we disparage the goodness and condescension of 
 God, when we barely say he is accessible. " Let 
 us come with boldness," says the Apostle, " to the 
 Throne of Grace." One of the Evangelists tells 
 us, that *^the Kingdom of Heaven suffereth vio- 
 lence, and the violent take it by force." *^* All ye 
 that make mention of the Lord," says the Prophet, 
 ** keep not silence, and give him no rest." We 
 have not only free access, then, to the Throne of 
 Grace, but are permitted to be importunate when we 
 are there, and even to take no denial. We find va- 
 rious instances to this purpose, recorded for our en- 
 couragement in the word of God. He is represent- 
 
 27 
 
210 ON PRAYER, 
 
 ed as suffering himself to be overcome by Jacob, 
 who is said to have wrestled with the Almighty, a«!d 
 to have overcome him io the contest. " Let me go," 
 says God ; to whom Jacob replies, " 1 will not let 
 thee go, except thou bless me." This might be con- 
 sidered, perhaps, as indecent boldness in a creature, 
 but it ought to be considered as an astonishing in- 
 stance of the condescensitm of God on the one hand, 
 and the confidence of the believer on the other, lay- 
 ing hold of the promises. So it appeared in the 
 sight of God, who suffered him to overcome. For 
 that reason, we read that he changed his name : 
 '^ Thou shalt be called Israel," says he, " for as a 
 Prince thou hast power with God and with men, 
 and hast prevailed." In like manner, the case of 
 the Canaanitish woman, pleading with our Saviour, 
 is truly ajffecting, and at the same time, full of en- 
 couragement. She came and cried unto him, say- 
 ing, " have mercy on me, ! Lord, thou Son of Da- 
 vid ; my daughter is grievously vexed with a Devil." 
 But at first, as if to make her still more importu- 
 nate, he answered her not a word. Then came she 
 and worshipped him, saying, "Lord, help me." 
 What was the answer? The most discouraging that 
 could have been given ; " It is not meet to take the 
 childrens' bread, and cast it to dogs." It would 
 seem, that there was but little hope now left. But 
 the poor woman would not give over her suit, and 
 our blessed Lord seems to have been moved by the 
 humility of her concessions, and overcome by the 
 weight of her argument. "Truth Lord," said she : 
 as much as to say, I own I am no better than a dog, 
 " yet the dogs cat of the crumbs which fall from 
 
ON PRAYER, 211 
 
 their master's table." " Be it unto thee," says our 
 Lord, " even as thou wilt ; O ! woman, great is thy 
 faith." 
 
 It must occur to every one who has attended to 
 this part of the subject, what a difference there is 
 between God and man in this respect. The mean- 
 est creature upon earth, may at all times go to God, 
 make known his wants, and have his claim allowed. 
 But, how hard of access are the rich and honoura- 
 ble of this world? With what difficulty can the 
 poor and helpless approach their stately habitations? 
 They stand at the gate at humble distance, impelled 
 by necessity, and yet fearful of intrusion and appre- 
 hensive of repulse. They pour their complaints in- 
 to deaf ears, and make their distresses known in 
 vain. It is far otherwise with the great God. No 
 living creature is below his notice. The most for- 
 lorn and helpless, may at all times go to him. He 
 never rejects the humble supplicant; he gives to him 
 liberally and upbraids him not. The God of Hea- 
 ven is no respecter of persons. The beggar on the 
 dung-hill, is as easily admitted, as the King on the 
 throne ; the poor man as the rich ; the black man 
 as the white. Who shall be admitted into the palace 
 of an earthly prince ? The great and the splendid 
 only, to the exclusion of others. You see the por- 
 ter placed at the gate, with instruments of death in 
 his hands to guard his master from unhallowed ap- 
 proach. But the King of Kings, not only admits, 
 but invites the poor and needy into his Heavenly 
 courts. There is no flaming sword to guard the 
 passage to the throne of Grace. It stands open 
 night and day. Jesus Christ the Son of God, our 
 
212 ON PRAYER. 
 
 glorious advocate and intercessor with tlie Fatber, 
 lias removed every bar, and erected a mercy seat in 
 the midst of the throne. 
 
 3dly, God is ready to hear and able to save. In 
 vain should we cry unto him, if he could not hear, 
 and in vain would he hear, if he were unable to 
 bring deliverance. He is intimately acquainted with 
 all our ways, and he knows our inmost thoughts. 
 He that formed the ear, can he not hear ? He who 
 formed the heart, cannot he understand? "Thou 
 knowest my down-sitting, and my up-rising," says 
 the Psalmist, " thou understandest my thought afar 
 off : There is not a word in my tongue, but, lo, O ! 
 Lord, thou knowest it altogether." " Beholtl,*' says 
 the Prophet Isaiah, " the Lord's hand is not short- 
 ened that it cannot save ; neither his ear heavy that 
 it cannot hear." The Psalmist calls him by way of 
 eminence, the prayer- hearing God : "O thou," says 
 he, " that hearest prayer." This distinguisTies him 
 from the Gods of the Heathen. They could not 
 hear their votaries, though they cried aloud. Our 
 God is distinguished from the Gods of the nations, 
 in this, as in every thing else, that he hearetli prayer. 
 The Gentiles worshipped stocks or stones that could 
 not hear, or bulls and other animals that could not 
 understand ; and the Apostle tells of certain Gen- 
 tiles that sacrificed to devils that cannot save, and 
 would not if they could. But, in vain would men 
 worship such Gods, for they cannot help them. 
 They may paint or carve them with ears, indeed, 
 but they cannot make them hear. They may put 
 the likeness of eyes in their heads, but destruction 
 may overwhelm their votaries and they cannot see 
 
ON PRAYER. 213 
 
 their distress, nor move a hand to relieve them. 
 They are well described by the Psalmist, in the 
 115th Psalm. "They have mouths, but they speak 
 not ; eyes have they, but they see not ; they have 
 ears, but they hear not ; they have hands, but they 
 handle not; feet have they, but they walk not." 
 
 This circumstance is also taken notice of by the 
 Prophet Jeremiah, 10, 5. " They are upri^^ht as the 
 palm tree, but speak not ; they must needs be borne, 
 because they cannot go." The Apostle had good 
 reason when he said, " an idol is nothing in the 
 world." But the Prophet Elijah has exposed both 
 them and their votaries, \^ ith the most cutting raille- 
 ry that is any where to be found. As the circum- 
 stance is singular, I will relate it in full. The Pro- 
 phet reproved the priests of Baal for their absurd and 
 idolatrous worship, and wished to bring them to the 
 knowledge of the true God. He had told them to 
 serve Baal if he were God, but if the Lord were 
 God, they should serve him. For this purpose, he 
 proposed to them the following experiment. They 
 should take two bullocks ; he one, and the Prophets 
 of Baal one. They were to cut the bullocks in pie- 
 ces, and lay them on wood, but put no lire under. 
 This being done, they were to call on the name of 
 their Gods, and Elijah on the name of the Lord ; 
 << rhe God that answereth by fire," says he, " let 
 him be God." The challenge was accepted, and 
 all the people said that Elijah had spoken Mell. 
 Accordingly, the Prophets of Baal took their bul- 
 lock, and havi.jg dressed it, they laid it on the wood 
 as was proposed ; and they called upon their God 
 Baal incessantly, saying O I Baal hear us ; and they 
 
214 ON PRAYER. 
 
 leaped up and down upon the altar, either through 
 great uneasiness, or a kind of charm. But there 
 was no voice, nor any that answered. This was in 
 the morning. At noon, after Elijah had given them 
 sufficient time, he jeers them with the most mortify- 
 ing mockery. " Cry aloud," says he, " for, he is a 
 God ; either he is talking, or he is pursuing, or he 
 is on a journey, or perad venture sleepeth, and must 
 be awaked." They cried aloud and cut themselves 
 with knives and lancets until the blood gushed out, 
 but Baal was not to be awaked. It was now to be 
 determined, wliether the Lord whom Elijah served, 
 were God or not. The Prophet called upon the 
 God of Isaac, and of Jacob, and of Israel ; and he 
 sent fire from Heaven and consumed the offering. 
 It is one of his distinguishing characteristicks, that 
 he heareth prayer. 
 
 4thly. He is not only ready to hear, but willing 
 to answer. The goodness and mercy of God invite 
 his creatures to pray to him. His goodness is con- 
 spicuous in all his works. But, in addition to this, 
 as often as he has invited and commanded us to 
 pray, he has assured us, that he will hear and an- 
 swer. " The Lord is nigh unto all them that call 
 upon him ; yea, all such as call upon him faithfully. 
 He will fulfil the desire of them that fear him : He 
 also will hear their cry, and help them." " If any 
 man lack wisdom, let him ask it of God, who giv- 
 eth to all liberally, and upbraideth not." " Ask," 
 says our Lord, " and ye shall receive ; seek, and ye 
 shall find ; knock, and it shall be opened unto you." 
 And, " Whatsoever ye ask the Father, in my name, 
 believing, he will give it to you." From these, and 
 
ON PRAYER. 215 
 
 maoy other passages of similar import, we learn, 
 that the prayer of the humble petitioner, ofl'ered in 
 sincerity, through Jesus Christ, shall never be re- 
 jected. " Whosoever cometh to me, through him," 
 says God, " I will in no wise cast out." 
 
 I do not know, indeed, that we are warranted to 
 conclude, that we may always expect the very things 
 we ask for, in answer to our prayers. This will de- 
 pend on a variety of circumstances, such as the tem- 
 per of mind with which we ask them ; the purposes 
 for which we want them ; and particularly, the wis- 
 dom of God, who knows what is fittest for us, — 
 Short-sighted as we are, and ignorant, not knowing 
 what to ask for, or how to pray aright, we may of- 
 ten ask such things, as would really be a disadvan- 
 tage to us, if God should bestow them. But, when 
 we ask such things, in faith, as have a tendency to 
 the glory of God, and are necessary for the good of 
 our souls, he not only bestows the very things we 
 ask for, but abundantly more. For instance, the 
 bounties of his Providence will always accompany 
 the blessings of his Grace. This is the character of 
 true piety and Godliness. Godliness has ^' the pro- 
 mise of the life that now is, and that which is to 
 come." '^ Seek ye, first, the kingdom of God," 
 says our Saviour, " and all these things shall be 
 added unto you." We have an instance of this in 
 the case of Solomon, who asked wisdom of God. — 
 <* Behold, I have done according to thy words : lo, 
 1 have given thee a wise and an understanding heart, 
 so that there was none like thee, before thee, neither 
 after thee shall any arise like unto thee. And I 
 have also given thee that which thou hast not asked. 
 
216 ON PRAYER. 
 
 footh riches and honor; so, that there shall not be 
 any among the Kini^s, like unto thee, all thy days.'' 
 In like manner, when we pray for a meek and for- 
 giving disposition, we may certainly expect, that 
 God will enable us, from the heart, to forgive our 
 enemies ; and it is probable, he will add to this, 
 wisdom to counteract their designs, and strength to 
 resist their power. Again, he may not grant the 
 very thing asked for, but something else, and yet 
 effectually answer our prayers. For instance, when 
 we are under the pressure of temporal calamity, 
 or bodily infirmity, and make application to God, 
 he may not grant us a deliverance from them, be- 
 cause we might not be able to use prosperity with 
 moderation, nor enjoy health with thankfulness ; but 
 he would certainly grant us grace to bear them with 
 patience, and cause them to be working out for us, in 
 the mean time, a far more exceeding and eternal 
 ■weight of glory. This would answer the purpose full 
 as well, and a great deal better- It would alter the 
 whole aspect of the calamity : it would become light 
 and easy for the present, and the greatest of bles- 
 sings in the end. 
 
 There is but one other case to be considered un- 
 der this head, and that is the time. This is also 
 to be submitted to the sovereign will and boundless 
 wisdom of God. A prayer is not unanswered, be- 
 cause it is not answered immediately. One of 
 the Prophets represents prayers as remembrancers, 
 which remain before God's throne. And though 
 the answer seems to tarry, yet the way is constantly 
 preparing for it. It may be, that something must 
 (irst be brought about, to prepare the mind for the 
 
SALVATION BY GRACE. 217 
 
 reception of what is asked. And those blessings 
 which are sought, agreeably to the will of God, will 
 be bestowed at the most proper season, by him who 
 never required the house of Jacob to seek his face 
 in vain. 
 
 ON SALVATION BY GRA.CE. 
 
 ^^ For, by Grace are ye saved, through Faith; and 
 that not of yourselves : it is the gift of God.^^ 
 
 Ephesiaus, 2d chap. 8th verse. 
 
 It is frequently said, that some doctrines contain- 
 ed in Scripture, are more essential than others. — 
 It is not my intention now to exaniine with what 
 propriety this is affirmed ; but if it be so, this, which 
 has been just read, must be admitted to be one of 
 the most important, if we may judge by the nature 
 of the subject itself, the earnestness with which it is 
 inculcated, or the frequency of its repetition. That 
 Salvation is by Grace, and not by the Deeds of the 
 Law, is continually maintained by our Lord and liis 
 Apostles, through the whole of the Gospel. It is the 
 only grouud of the sinner's hope, of the good man's 
 rejoicing; and <^ Grace, Grace," is the unceasing 
 theme of the Saints in Glory. In the passage now 
 before us, the Apostle affirms, that " God; who is 
 
 28 
 
218 SALVATION BY GRACE. 
 
 rich in mercy," hath quickened us, that, in ages to 
 come, he might shew the exceeding riches of his 
 Grace, in his kindness towards us, through Christ 
 Jesus : *^ For by Grace are ye saved, through Faith ; 
 and that not of yourselves : it is the gift of God." 
 It is immediately added, *' Not of works, lest any 
 man should boast " 
 
 But, notwithstanding that this doctrine is so ex- 
 ceedingly important, and so expressly revealed, it 
 may yet be supposed, that there is no one in the 
 whole Word of God, perhaps, more imperfectly 
 understood, or more grossly misrepresented. Al- 
 though the works of Righteousness, as will be 
 shewn in the sequel, are the natural eifects of Grace, 
 as the fruit is the production of the tree ; yet, men 
 have made out, in tlieory, to put them asunder, and 
 set them in array against each other. Hence, we 
 are informed by the Apostle James, that one man 
 says, *^ 1 have Faith, and another I have Works." 
 The pretensions of both are evidently false, yet 
 there is not so great inconsistency between them, as 
 men have since invented. It is seriously contended, 
 against the doctrine of Grace, not only that it would 
 supersede the necessity of good works, but that it is 
 a cloak for the practice of iniquity. There are two 
 circumstances which seem to have given rise to this 
 objection : the one is the glaring inconsistency that 
 is observable between the pretensions and the lives 
 of too many who profess this doctrine ; the other is 
 the fatal blow it gives to the pride of human nature, 
 which induces a man to refuse a scheme which 
 leaves him, as he imagines, nothing to do, and re- 
 quires him to renounce every kind of merit, in the 
 
SALVATION BY GRACE. 219 
 
 important Work of Salvation. With respect to the 
 first, it is not to be denied, but very much to be la- 
 mented, that there are too many instances of profes- 
 sing Christians, who do turn the Grace of God into 
 licentiousness ; who really do seem to imagine that 
 their conversion, as they call it, gives them some ex- 
 clusive privileges this way; and who would pal- 
 liate their own vices, under the tender appellation 
 of pardonable infirmities, which, at the same time, 
 they are pleased to consider, in others, as highly 
 criminal. If the doctrine in question w^ere justly 
 chargeable with encouraging these things, the objec- 
 tion against it would be wholly unanswerable. But, 
 I shall endeavor to vindicate it against this imputa- 
 tion, by stating to you, precisely, in the first place, 
 the doctrine itself, as it is delivered in the Gospel; 
 and secondly, by pointing out its natural and neces- 
 sary tendency to produce the fruits of practical reli- 
 gion. 
 
 As to the other source of opposition against the 
 doctrine of Grace, I shall leave it where it is ; being 
 well persuaded that nothing can remove it but Grace 
 itself. I proceed, therefore, to my purpose. 
 
 1. The doctrine of the Gospel, then, upon this 
 subject is, that we are saved by Divine Grace, and 
 that, alone, without the Deeds of the Law ; but, that 
 our obligations to obedience, on that account, are 
 not diminished, but increased. 
 
 In this cliapter, which contains our text, after ha- 
 ving asserted, that we are saved by Grace, which is 
 the gift of God, and not by Works, lest any man 
 should boast, the Apostle adds, in the next verse, 
 that we are ^^ his workmanship, created in Christ 
 
220 SALVATION BY GRACE, 
 
 Jesus unto good works, which God hath before 
 ordained that we should walk in them." In the 
 6th chapter to the Romans, 1st verse, the Apostle, 
 as if with an eye to the objection which has been 
 stated, asks this question : *' Shall we continue in 
 sin, that Grace may abound?" To which, he an- 
 swers, ^' God forbid : How shall we, that are dead 
 to sin, live any longer therein ?" In the 14th verse 
 of the same chapter, he says, " Sin shall not have 
 dominion over you ;" and the reason that he assigns 
 is, that they were under Grace : ^' For, ye are not 
 under the Law, but under Grace." The same thing 
 he expressly asserts in the 3d chapter to the Ro- 
 mans, 31st verse: ^^Do we, then, make void the 
 Law, through Faith ? God forbid : Yea, we esta- 
 blish the Law." I shall only cite to you one other 
 passage, which will serve to explain the doctrine^ 
 and assist us very much in the discussion of what 
 remains upon the subject. It is in the 3d chapter 
 of Paul's Epistle to Titus, from the 5th verse : " J\ ot 
 by works of righteousness which we have done, but 
 according to his mercy he saved us, by the washing 
 of regeneration, and renewing of the Holy Ghost: 
 that, being justified by his Grace, we should be 
 made heirs, according to the hope of eternal life. — 
 This is a faithful saying ; and these things I will 
 that thou affirm constantly ; that they which have 
 believed in God, might be careful to maintain good 
 works." "The faithful saying" is, that we Jire 
 saved by the mercy of God, and justified by his 
 Grace. And the reason that the Apostle would 
 have this constantly affirmed was, not that believers 
 might learn, that they then were at liberty to break 
 
SALVATION BY GRACE. 221 
 
 the commandments of God, but on the contrary, that 
 they " might be careful to mamtain good works." 
 Such, then, in a few words, is the doctrine of Grace, 
 as stated in the Scriptures. If we attend to the ex- 
 pressions, there is not one which gives the least en- 
 couragement to sin ; but, they all represent the doc- 
 trine, as imposing upon Christians the highest obli- 
 gations to a life of righteousness. Thus far, then, 
 it must be unimpeached. If any objection will still 
 lie against it, it must arise from something in the 
 nature of the doctrine itself, which is calculated to 
 defeat the purposes which it was intended to pro- 
 mote. This is a charge of a high nature, indeed ; 
 but, nevertheless, it has been exhibited against it. 
 It has been considered as a dangerous doctrine for 
 ministers to preach, from an apprehension, that to 
 maintain the doctrine of Justification by Grace, with- 
 out the Deeds of the Law, would be to unhinge the 
 whole system of moral duties. I do not know that 
 it has always been correctly stated, or judiciously 
 explained, in public discourses ; but, if objections 
 of this sort are permitted to operate against any doc- 
 trine, there is none, whatever, that could stand the 
 test. 
 
 2. My second proposition was to shew, that the 
 natural tendency of Grace, was to produce a life of 
 practical religion. Whether it lias this tendency, 
 or the contrary, shall now be submitted to a fair and 
 full investigation. 
 
 There are two senses in which the word Grace 
 is to be understood in Scripture ; the one, is an act 
 of God's goodness in pardoning sin ; the other, the 
 work of his spirit in sanctifying the sinner. We 
 
222 SALVATION BY GRACE, 
 
 will take a view of the subject with respect to both 
 of these. Considering the matter in the first place, 
 then, merely as an act of God's goodenss without re- 
 gard to any thing else, it must have a direct and 
 very powerful operation on the gratitude of true be- 
 lievers. If the sense of obligation can provoke to 
 love and gratitude to God in any instance, it must 
 ever bear a proportion to the greatness of the favour 
 received. The common bounties of life will have a 
 claim upon it ; but it will exert itself most power- 
 fully of all, for the richer blessings of Divine Grace. 
 This was the sentiment of the Apostle, wlien he 
 said, " the love of Christ coustraineth us." Through 
 the sovereign mercy of God, who hath mercy on 
 whom he will, they are delivered from the condem- 
 nation of his law : theii* sins are pardoned, through 
 the abundant riches of Grace, and themselves are 
 made heirs, according to the promise of eternal life. 
 It cannot be supposed to diminish, but rather to in- 
 crease these obligations, that the favor was entirely 
 free and wholly undeserved. The subjects of it 
 cannot immediately forget their former situation. — 
 They cannot fail to recollect, that not only their 
 righteousness could not ascend to God, but in truth, 
 that they had none ; that they were aforetime work- 
 ers of iniquity and children of wrath, even as others. 
 To a person, then, just delivered from this unhappy 
 situation, could it be any objection to the Grace of 
 God, that it was free; or, would it lessen it in his 
 estimation, that he did not deserve it? The great- 
 ness of the favor received, combined with the consci- 
 ousness of Ins own unvvorthiness, to fill him with 
 gratitude and love. Under the first impression, it 
 
SALVATION BY GRACE. 223 
 
 would be the language of his heart, '< What shall 
 I render unto the Lord, for all his benefits?" — 
 " Lord, what is man," says the Psalmist, " that 
 thou shouldst be mindful of him, or the son of man, 
 that thou shouldst visit him?" The question which 
 our Lord once put to the Jews, is exceedingly ap- 
 plicable to this subject. " Is your eye evil, because 
 I am gnoH ?" That heart must, surely have inheri- 
 ted, or contracted, rather, a more than common de- 
 gree of malignity, that would impel a man to hate, 
 or injure another, merely because he was his bene- 
 factor. And this consideration would not be con- 
 strued to excuse, but to aggravate his offence. Is 
 the goodness of God, then, alone to be forgotten ? 
 Or, is it of a nature so peculiar, that the remem- 
 brance of it should only serve to render men more 
 licentious and disobedient ? It is worthy of remark, 
 that men are as much, that is, as entirely indebted 
 to God for the bounties of his Providence, as for the 
 blessings of his Grace. But, what kind of reason- 
 ing would it be to say, that this, too, was a licen- 
 tious doctrine ; because, if men were once persua- 
 ded that their lives, and all the comforts of life, pro- 
 ceeded from the love and goodness of God, it would 
 give them a warrant to abuse those mercies, and sin 
 against their author ? This certainly is not the na- 
 tural effect which favors of any kind have upon tlie 
 mind : and I can discern no good reason, why the 
 great and unmerited blessings of Divine Grace should 
 be made the only exception. 
 
 But if, in the second place, we take into the ac- 
 count, that Grace, implanted in the heart, is, of it- 
 self, an inherent principle of holiness, it will render 
 
234 SALVATION BY GRACE. 
 
 the foregoing reason altogether conclusive. When 
 men have contended against the doctrine of Grace, 
 they have not been at the pains to understand it tho- 
 roughly, or represent it fairly. If, by being saved 
 by Divine Grace, it be understood, that we are to 
 receive the reward of holiness, together with a dis- 
 pensation from the practice of it, and that we are deli- 
 vered fn)ui the punishmPTit of sin. whilst it is not only 
 permitted, but by this doctrine, invited to hold do- 
 minion over the heart, 1 acknowledge that the doc- 
 trine is wholly indefensible. But, this is not the 
 doctrine of the Gospel ; and I am persuaded, that 
 no well informed person ever held it in this view. 
 To represent it in this light, is to act over again the 
 cruelties of the old persecutors, who dressed the 
 Christian martyrs in the skins of beasts, in order 
 that the dogs miglit worry them. It was the direc- 
 tion of God, that when the Saviour of the World 
 was born, he should be called Jesus, because he was 
 to save from sin. " And thou shalt call his name Je- 
 sus, for he shall save his people from their sins." 
 The Apostle says, in the text, that we are saved by 
 Grace, through Faith ; and that this is the gift of 
 God ; yet, it is the property of Faith to work by 
 love and purify the heart. In the 5th verse of the 
 3d chapter of Titus, before cited, the Apostle says, 
 that ^' according to his mercy he saved us, by the 
 washing of regeneration and renewing of the Holy 
 Ghost." If he be correct in this, then where is the 
 tendency of this doctrine to give encouragement to 
 sin ? Is this the effect of the renewing of the Holy 
 Ghost? Does the washing of regeneration make 
 men more unclean ? Or, is human nature, of itself, 
 
SALVATION BY GRACE. 225 
 
 SO extremely pure, that the Grace of God would 
 prove an alloy ? If this be not true, but the con- 
 trary, then certainly in proportion as this Grace is 
 communicated, it produces an aversion from sin, and 
 a propensity to holiness ; and according to the de- 
 gree of these, their necessary influence will be to 
 produce a correspondent life of righteousness. Our 
 Saviour surely was not chargeable with any incon- 
 sistency, when, upon this principle, he said to his 
 disciples, " If ye love me, keep my commandments." 
 It is perfectly natural, that men should pursue those 
 objects to which their hearts incline them. If they 
 devote themselves to the practice of sin, it is not be- 
 cause it is safe, but because it is agreeable. Whea 
 Divine Grace, then, takes possession of the heart, 
 and produces a change in the aifections, what else is 
 reasonably to be expected, tlian a change, also, of 
 the objects of pursuit? The requisitions of the Gos- 
 pel are, of themselves, not grievous ; it is the depra- 
 vity of human nature only, that deprives us of the 
 ability, as Avell as the inclination, to comply with 
 them. It would be a hard case indeed, then ; it 
 would argue a very extraordinary perverseness in 
 religion, and would forever exclude us from the 
 kingdom of Heaven, if the removal of that depra- 
 vity, by the Grace of God, should only serve to in- 
 crease the difficulty. In such a case, well might we 
 ask, with the disciples of our Lord, " Who, then, 
 can be saved ?" On the contrary, the Grace of God 
 inclines our hearts to keep Ids' Law ; it removes the 
 opposition which there is by nature, between our 
 duty and our inclinations, and makes his service 
 perfect freedom. When Paul complained of a thorn 
 
 29 
 
226 SALVATION BY GRACE. 
 
 in the flesh, the answer was, <^ My Grace is suffici- 
 ent for thcc." It is said, in Scripture, tliat the gifts 
 and calling of God are without repentance. Is re- 
 pentance, therefore, excluded ? By no means : for, 
 our Saviour says, " Except ye repent, ye shall all 
 likewise perish." Repentance is inseparably con- 
 nected with the forgiveness of sin : it is the effect of 
 God's gift ; and in the same manner is holiness the 
 effect of his Grace. But, let us hear the reasoning 
 of our Lord himself upon this subject, which is sure- 
 ly not to be refuted : " A good tree bringeth forth 
 good fruit, and a corrupt tree bringeth forth corrupt 
 fruit." What is the conclusion, then? Why sim- 
 ply this : make the tree good, and the fruit will be 
 so too. Or, according to another very common al- 
 lusion, cleanse the fountain and the streams m ill be 
 pure. If the tree be good, and the fountain clean, 
 will the fruit, therefore, be the more unsavory, and 
 the streams more muddy? Surely not. Grace is 
 this fountain, and righteousness the stream ; or Grace 
 the tree, and holiness the fruits. The comparison 
 made by our Lord, of the vine and its branches, goes 
 also to illustrate the same thing. " I am the vine, 
 ye are the branches." Now, if the vine be fruitful, 
 will the branches, therefore, be barren ? If the for- 
 mer be living, is it, therefore, a necessary conse- 
 quence, that the branches should be dead ? Or, if 
 the vine be a good vine, must the branches, of course, 
 bring forth bad fruit ? If not, then how can it be, 
 that the Grace of God should make the subjects of 
 it more wicked and licentious ? This ill-favoured 
 objection betrays not only a want of that candor 
 which should accompany criticism, but a sad mis- 
 apprehension of the nature of true religion. 
 
SALVATION BY GRACE. 227 
 
 I would observe, in the third place, that the re- 
 putation, if I may so speak, of their Master in the 
 World, is another security for the exemplary lives 
 of true believers. In the first ages of Christianity, 
 the disciples of our Lord were hated and reviled, on 
 account of the Redeemer. ^^ The world hated me 
 before it hated you." It is also true, that any de- 
 fect in the temper or miscarriage in the lives of his 
 followers, is reflected, in its turn, as a reproach upon 
 him. The credit of religion is, in some measure, at 
 stake, upon the fidelity of its professors. The eyes 
 of the world are upon them ; and, therefore, if they 
 in reality possess that love which the Grace of God 
 inspires, they will be concerned to promote the glory 
 and proclaim the praises of their Divine master, by 
 such a moral and religious life as shall effectually 
 stop the mouths of gain-sayers. A religious life is 
 not only the best evidence of our own sincerity, but 
 the greatest ornament we can bestow on the doc- 
 trines of our Saviour. With this view, our blessed 
 Lord said to his disciples, " Herein is my Father 
 glorified, tliat ye bear much fruit." Notwithstand- 
 ing the objections raised against the doctrine in 
 question, it is observable, 1 think, that those who op- 
 pose it, are very watchful over those who profess it, 
 and seem to expect more of religion from them than 
 from others. This seems to be rather unreasonable, 
 when, at the same time, they charge them with a 
 scheme of doctrine, which has a tendency directly 
 opposite. If sifted to the bottom, however, it is a 
 relinquishment of their objection as groundless, since 
 they themselves are unable to give it credit. 
 
228 SALVATION BY GRACE. 
 
 4. After the same manner, it might be demonstra- 
 ted, that the same principle which inspires love, and 
 insures obedience, as- we have seen, to God, diffuses 
 its intluence, also, through the whole circle of duties 
 of man to man. It leads to the discharge of hoth 
 the great commands on which the Law and the Pro- 
 phets hang, viz. to love supremely the Lord our God, 
 and to love our neighbors as ourselves. The same 
 principle which produces piety towards God, will 
 also produce justice and benevolence towards man : 
 if for no other reason, at least for this, that he who 
 hath said, " Thou shalt love the Lord thy God,'' 
 hath added, "^ Thou shalt love thy brother also." — 
 ^' This is ray commandment," says our blessed Lord, 
 "that ye love one another as I have loved you." 
 
 The sense of God's love, must certainly have a 
 very powerful constraint on them that believe ; and 
 will teach them readily to forgive those that offend 
 them, since God was merciful to their unrigltcous- 
 ness. This is strikingly set forth by our Saviour, 
 in the parable of the wicked servant, who owed his 
 creditor ten thousand talents, which he was unable 
 to pay. His Lord at first was willing to remit the 
 debt ; but, when he saw his conduct to his fellow- 
 servants, he delivered him to the tormentors, till he 
 should pay all that was due unto him. 
 
 Improvement. 1. We may learn, from what has 
 been said, that the inconsistent conduct of profes- 
 sing Christains cannot reasonably be charged to the 
 account of the doctrine of Grace. It is rather a 
 justification of the doctrine, that the lives of men, 
 as far as they arc immoral, are inconsistent with 
 it : yet, inasmuch as the world will have it sO; we 
 
SALVATION BY GRACE. 229 
 
 see the unspeakable importance of an exemplary 
 life. To profess the doctrine of Salvation by Grace, 
 the province of which is to purify the heart, and at 
 the same time, to indulge ourselves in the practice 
 of iniquity, is to be traitors against the cause of 
 truth. As Judas did his master, it is to betray it 
 with a kiss. 
 
 2. We may learn, also, the great mistake of going 
 about to establish a righteousness of our own, and 
 endeavoring to enter into the kingdom of Heaven, 
 by any other way than that which God hath ap- 
 pointed. A system of morality without the princi- 
 ple of Grace, is a body without a soul, and that, too, 
 exceedingly maimed. It is like the fabulous victim 
 once slain in Rome, which was found, upon exami- 
 nation, to want a heart. 
 
 3. We may also learn, how to understand the 
 great doctrine of Salvation by Grace. Its office is 
 to cleanse from sin ; to produce holiness in heart and 
 life ; to assimilate us to God, and qualify us for the 
 enjoyment of his spiritual kingdom. That it is proof 
 against all impeachment, and that when rightly con- 
 sidered, it is exclusively calculated to bring glory to 
 God and Salvation to man. And the conclusion of 
 all is, that we earnestly seek that Grace of God 
 which bringeth Salvation ; that Grace by which we 
 are saved, through Faith, which is at once so essen- 
 tially necessary, and so entirely free. 
 
230 THE GLORY OF THE SAVIOUR. 
 
 ON THE GLORY OF THE SAVIOUR. 
 
 u Worthy is the Lamb that was slain, to receive pow- 
 er, and riches, and ivisdom and strength, and 
 honor, and glory, and blessing.'^ 
 
 Revelation, 5th chap. 12th verse. 
 
 We find every where in Scripture, that the same 
 attributes and the same honors are ascribed to God 
 the Son, as to the Father. He, himself, with re- 
 spect to his Divinity, is called tlie Father and Maker 
 of all things. Let all the Angels of Heaven wor- 
 ship him, was the Divine command : and, according- 
 ly, in the verse before the text, John informs us, that 
 " He saw and heard the voice of many Angels 
 around the throne, and the beasts, and the elders, 
 and the number of them was ten thousand times ten 
 thousand and thousands of thousands, saying with 
 a loud voice, Worthy is the Lamb that was slain, 
 to receive power and riches, and wisdom, and 
 strength, and honor, and glory, and blessing,'' 
 
 In the next verse he informs us, that the Earth 
 and Seas joined with the Heavenly Hosts in this 
 tribute of praise, and these expressions of homage, 
 to the Almighty God our Saviour. "And every 
 creature which is in Heaven, and on the Earth and 
 under the Earth, and such as are in the Sea, and all 
 that are in them, heard I, saying, Blessing, and hon- 
 or, and glory, and power, be unto Him that sitteth 
 on the throne, and unto the Lamb, for ever aud 
 ever.*' 
 
THE GLORY OF THE SAVIOUR. 231 
 
 It will Dot be an unpleasing, and I hope not an 
 unprofitable task, to employ a few minutes, at pre- 
 sent, in considering such of the attributes of our 
 Lord, as will shew the propriety of these ascrip- 
 tions. This I shall endeavor to do, by considering 
 their application to his character, first as God, and 
 secondly as the Lamb, that was slain. The former 
 will occupy this discourse. 
 
 I need make no apology, I hope, to this audience, 
 for entering so abruptly on the subject, without ad- 
 ducing arguments to prove, in the first place, the 
 Divinity of our blessed Saviour. This is a point, in 
 which most men, I believe, are well established, not- 
 withstanding the opposition which has been made to 
 it in former times, and the subtle distinctions of some 
 late Theologists. 
 
 I begin, therefore, with observing, that if infinite 
 greatness and majesty can justify these ascriptions, 
 they certainly belong to God. He is the great Je- 
 hovah, the King eternal, immortal, and invisible. 
 He is the Supreme Governor and Sovereign of the 
 Universe, and besides him there is not another. — 
 The Gods of the Heathen are dumb idols, and va- 
 nity ; but he is the King of Kings and Lord of Lords. 
 He is the cause, and he the end of all things, the 
 greatest and the best of beings. All things else 
 proceeding from him, his happiness, alone, is un- 
 derived ; his glory is uncreated ; it is above the 
 Earth and the Heavens. Nay, the Heaven of 
 Heavens cannot contain him. Alone, unbounded 
 and independent, he sitteth on the Throne of his 
 Glory: before him, the mountains flee away, and 
 the inhabitants of the Earth are as grass-hoppers. 
 
232 THE GLORY OF THE SAVIOUR. 
 
 Do men behold, with admiration, the majestic, 
 the valiant, and the strong? Do they venerate 
 and admire the great, the wonderful ; do the topless 
 mountains, and unfathomable deep, present to the 
 mind an awful grandeur? Much more, then, may 
 glory, and power, and might, be ascribed to God ; 
 for, he measureth the waters in the hollow of his 
 hand, and taketh up the isles as a very little thing. 
 " He hath measured the w aters," says Isaiah, " in 
 the hollow of his hand, and meted out Heaven with 
 a span, and weighed the mountains in scales, and 
 the hills in a balance. Behold, the nations are as 
 a drop of a bucket, and are counted as the small 
 dust of the balance. Behold, he taketh up the isles 
 as a very little thing. And Lebanon is not suflRci- 
 ent to burn, nor the beasts thereof sufficient for a 
 burnt- oflfering. All nations before him, are as no- 
 thing, and they are counted to him nothing and va- 
 nity. The Lord excelleth in strength ; he is great 
 in might and terrible in battle." 
 
 If antiquity be that which we behold with respect 
 and veneration ; if men rise up before the hoary 
 head, and make obeisance to years, what honor and 
 glory are due to the Ancient of Hays, the mighty 
 God, the everlasting Father ? If frequent changes 
 and subjection to decay, be marks of weakness, and 
 imperfection, what ascriptions of praise are due to 
 him, who is the same yesterday, to-day, and fore- 
 ver ; with whom there is no variableness, nor even 
 the shadow of turning ? " The Heavens shall be 
 wrapped up as a scroll," says the Psalmist; "as a 
 vesture thou shalt change, and thou shalt fold them 
 up ; but thou remainest forever and ever, and to thy 
 
THE GLORY OF THE SAVTOFR, 233 
 
 dominion, there is no end." " I am tlie Lord, I 
 change not." But, wliat language has attained such 
 loftv height, as to descrihe the greatness and majes- 
 ty of (lod? What tongue, of men or angels, ran 
 declare his glorj ? The thousands of thousands, and 
 ten thousand times ten thousand which surround his 
 throne, fall infinitely beneath his praise. His pow- 
 er and greatness are, in some degree, manifested by 
 all the works of his hand ; iiis eternal power and 
 Godhead are manifested by the things that are made: 
 the whole Earth is full of his glory. We know that 
 he is great; but how great, who can tell? He is 
 infinitely exalted above all description, and the high- 
 est conceptions of men or of x\ngels. He is sur- 
 rounded with light as with a garment ; unto which, 
 no mortal can ajiproach and live. The Sun is a 
 faint emblem of the great Creator; yet, who can 
 behold the Sun, in his meridian splendor, with a 
 stedfast eye ? How infinitely superior must be his 
 brightness, who gave the Sun his lustre? No man 
 halh seen him, nor can see him. When his servant 
 of old descended from the mount, on which he had 
 had some faint display of the Creator's glory, his 
 face shone like the Sun, so that the Israelites could 
 not look upon it. How great, then, how overwhelm- 
 ing to mortal view, must be that brightness, where 
 the glory of God shineth, and the Lamb is the light 
 of it? Moses desired to see God's face, and he 
 in mercy shewed him not his face, or he had in- 
 stantly expired. No man on Earrh ccmld view it. 
 In the holy city, where he displays his glory, the 
 most exalted Angels, which excel in strength, are 
 obliged to veil their faces before him. He is light., 
 
 30 
 
234 THE GLORY OP THE SAVIOUR. 
 
 and in Him there is no darkness at all. Great is 
 the Lord, then, and greatly to be praised. 
 
 2(lly. God is worthy of the ascriptions in the text, 
 because of his infinite holiness. He is the righteous 
 Lord, who loveth righteousness. He is the holy one 
 of Israel, and holiness becomes his courts. His 
 greatness is well sup|)orted ; it is amiable as well as 
 venerable. He abuses it to no unworthy purposes. 
 He IS under no obligations. He cannot receive pro- 
 fit from any of his creatures. He can be deceived by 
 no artifice ; he can be terrified by no threats. He 
 is infinitely superior to all temptations, to unrighte- 
 ousness, and cannot do amiss. Men who are com- 
 paratively great, are sometimes disposed to abuse 
 their power. Because they are dependent on others, 
 they are liable to be seduced. They are allured by 
 promises, or dismayed by threats. Self interest, or 
 the prospect of immediate or ultimate advantage, 
 disposes them sometimes to pay respect to persons, 
 and pervert justice ; but, as such instances occur, 
 they destroy all the greatness and respectability of 
 their character. 1 heir foibles are only rendered 
 more conspicuous, and themselves more exposed to 
 censure, by their exalted station. But, this is not 
 the case with him who sits upon the throne. Other- 
 wise, he would cease to be God, and become alto- 
 gether such an one as ourselves. He is of purer 
 eyes than to behold iniquity, and evil cannot dwell 
 with him. So infinitely pure is he, that the Hea- 
 vens are not clean before him, and his Angels are 
 charged with folly. W hen the redeemed on Earth, 
 the Saints in Glory, and the Holy Angels which 
 surround the Throne, pay tlieir homage to God, they 
 
THE GLORY OF THE SAVIOUR. 235 
 
 begin and end with the praise of his holiness. — 
 *' Thou art holy," says the Psalmist : ^' O thou that 
 inhahitest the praises of Israel." We have a grand 
 description of the praises of God, for his holiness^ 
 in the 6th of Isaiah from the beginning: ** 1 saw 
 also the Lord sitting upon his Throne, high and 
 lifted up, and his train tilled the Temple; above it 
 stood tlie Seraphims; each one had six wings; with 
 twain he covered his face, and with twain he cover- 
 ed his feet, and with twain he did fly. And one 
 cried unto another and said, Holy, holy, holy, is the 
 Lord God of Hosts; the whole Earth is full of his 
 Glory." 
 
 3dly. It is proper, that all creatures should ex- 
 press their submission to God, because he is infi- 
 nitely powerful. It is fit to ascribe glory and pow- 
 er and might to Him, for he hath all power in Heaven 
 and on Earth. He doth what lie pleaseth, and who 
 can let him? He ruleth in the armies of Heaven, 
 and doth his pleasure amongst the inhabitants of the 
 Earth; and none can stay his hand. Omnipotent 
 and uncontrouled, he doth whatever he will. He 
 will have the glory of his sovereignty, for his is the 
 kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever 
 and ever. He is the great and mighty God ; great 
 in council and wonderful iu working. He creates 
 and he destroys ; he kills and makes alive; he 
 brings down and raises up, according to his so\e- 
 reign pleasure. He supports the upright, and he 
 dashes the enemy in pieces, ^'onecan harden him- 
 self against him and prosper. *' 1 am the Lord," 
 saith he, "and there is none else; 1 form the ligiit 
 and create darkness : I make peace and create evil : 
 1, the Lord, do all these things." 
 
236 THE GLORV OF THE SAVIOUR. 
 
 The councils of Kings and Princes are often dis- 
 appointed ; their designs are often thwarted ; but 
 the purpose of tlie Lord of Hosts, that shall stand, 
 and who shall make it void? Who can withhold 
 bis hand from working? or say unto him, what dost 
 thou? He speaketh and it is done ; he comman' 
 deth and it stands fast. Tiiough men join hand m 
 band; though Earth and Hell should league their 
 united force against Him, they would be as the dry 
 stubble before the consuming fire. Great is the 
 Lord, and matchless is his might. He has the keys 
 of Death and Hell : he shutteth and no man open- 
 eth ; he openeth and no man shutteth. The Lord 
 of Hosts is his name. 
 
 4thly. Wisdom, and honor, and glory, and bles- 
 sings, are properly ascribed to God, because he is infi- 
 nitely wise. Gh)r^ is due to him that hath all power, 
 in that he has all wisdom too. The former is directed 
 in its operation by the latter. " The Lord is mighty,'" 
 saith Job, " in strength and wisdom." He knoweth 
 how to accommodate all his works to answer their re- 
 spective ends, and to manage, with infinite ease and 
 exactness, all parts of his dominions. He a|)points 
 all the times and seasons, summer and winter, seed 
 time and harvest. He appoints the rising and set- 
 ting of the Sun and Moon, and the various revolu- 
 tions of the planets, in the most perfect harmony and 
 order. The rain and sunshine, day and night, are 
 ordered by his infinite wisdom, to fertilize and re- 
 fresh the earth. Also, from things the most unpro- 
 mising, he produces good The howling tempest 
 and the heaving ocean, the impetuous torrent and 
 the hurricane, which seems to rend the earth, con- 
 tribute to the general harmony and the health of all. 
 
THE GLORY OP THE SAVIOUR. 237 
 
 Under the direction and controul of tbe only wise 
 God, these partial evils, (to use tlie langua;|;e of the 
 Poet,) are universal good. He bringeth light out 
 of darkness, good out of evil, and universal order 
 out of partial confusion. 
 
 So wise beyond conception, is the Supreme Ru- 
 ler of the Universe, that notwithstanding the vari- 
 ous tempers and difl'erent pursuits of his intelligent 
 creatures, his purposes are all accomplished, his 
 glory advanced, and the general good promoted. 
 Neither his designs are thwarted, nor their liberty 
 invaded. There is no disorder, no disturbance, no 
 confusion in his most wisely conducted government. 
 All things, however opposite they may appear to 
 us, in their natural tendency, are conducted to 
 the same conclusion, the glory of the Creator and. 
 the good of his creatures The most disortlerly 
 passions, and the most submissive temper, in the 
 end, advance his praise. He receiveth honor and 
 glory from his Saints, and be maketh the wrath of 
 man to praise liira. \\ ell may we say with the 
 Psalmist, when he surveyed the works of God, 
 "How manifold are thy works, 0! Lord, and. in 
 wisdom thou hast made them all." 
 
 5thly. God is infinitely good, and, therefore, he 
 should receive praise from all his works. His ten- 
 der mercies are over all his works. His goodness, 
 his wisdom, and his power, are all employed for the 
 protection and happiness of his creatures. He 
 maketh all things to work toi^ether in the end, for 
 good to those that love him, and that walk upright- 
 ly. The Lord is great, and, therefore, we should 
 fear him : the Lord is kind, and, therefore, let us 
 praise him. 
 
238 THE GLORY OF THE SAVIOUR. 
 
 Lastly, if the right of creation be a sufficient title 
 to hoiior and praise, then power and riches, and 
 wisdom, and strength, and honor, and glory, and 
 blessing, are to be ascribed to God. It is most fit 
 that he should receive praise from all on Earth 
 and in Heaven, for, " All things were made by him, 
 and without bim was not any thing made that was 
 made." " By him,'' says the Apostle, " were all 
 things created that are in Heaven, and that are in 
 Earth, visible and invisible, whether th^y be Thrones 
 or Dominions, Principalities or Powers; all things 
 were created for him and by him, and he is before 
 all things, and by him all things consist." To him 
 should, therefore, be ascribed the creditof his works, 
 for he made them, and they are very good. The 
 language of the whole creation, is praise to the great 
 Creator. " The Heavens declare his glory, and the 
 firmament sheweth forth his handy work. Day 
 unto day uttcreth speech, and night unto night teach- 
 eth knowledge of him " 
 
 It is fit that riches should be ascribed to him, for 
 he is the sovereign proprietor of all things, and he 
 made them for his own glory. " Whatsoever is un- 
 der the whole Heaven," says God, *' is mine." The 
 flocks that range the valley, and the cattle on a 
 thousand hills are his. The whole earth is the 
 Lord's, and the fullness of it. 
 
 He is the former of our bodies, and the father of 
 our spirits. "All souls are mine," says he; ''as 
 the soul of the father, so, also, the soul of the son 
 is mine. I have made the earth and created man 
 upon it." It is meet that we should praise the 
 Lord, for our souls and bodies are his. '* Worthy 
 art thou, ! Lord, to receive glory, and honor, and 
 
WISDOM JUSTIFIED. 239 
 
 power : for thou hast created all things, and for thy 
 pleasure they are and \vere created." " Bless the 
 Lord, ye his Angels, that excel in strength. Bless 
 ye the Lord, all ye his Hosts ; ye ministers of his 
 that do his pleasure. Bless the Lord, all his works 
 in all places of his domiuiou : bless the Lord, O! my 
 soul.'' 
 
 WISDOM JUSTIFIED. 
 
 ^^But wisdom is justified of her children J^ 
 
 Matthew, Uih chap. I9lh verse. 
 
 It is no objection against any institution, that the 
 clamours of men are loud again.st it, if they be found, 
 upon examination, to be the eft'ect of ignorance or 
 prejudice. The former cannot understand it tho- 
 roughly ; the latter will not represent it fairly. 
 
 The Christian system, and the conduct of its au- 
 thor, have been assailed from both these quarters; 
 and they appeal from their decision to the judgment 
 of the wise and upright, who have understanding 
 to comprehend their design, and candour sufficient 
 to judge impartially of their principles. Before 
 these judges, it is presumed that our Holy Religion 
 will bear the strictest scrutiny; and, that a full jus- 
 
240 WISDOM JUSTIFIED. 
 
 tification will be the event of the trial. On these 
 grounds our Saviour joins issue with the Scribes 
 and Pharisees; an<l he delivered the words which 
 are contained in the text, as an answer to the cavils 
 which they made on account of the different circum- 
 stances in which he and his fore-runner, John the 
 Baptist, made their a[>|)earance in the world. Their 
 objections are stated in these words: "John came 
 neither eating nor drinking: and, they say, he hath 
 a Devil." " The Son of Man came eating and 
 drinking; and, they say, Behold! a man glutton- 
 ous, and a wine- bibber, a friend of publicans and 
 sinners." 
 
 One would have thought, indeed, that the auste- 
 rity of their own manners should have prevented the 
 first of these objections ; for, they themselves are re- 
 presented as fasting often, or at least appearing to 
 do .so, by being of »^ a sad countenance, and disfigu- 
 ring their faces." At any rate, the first objection 
 should have precluded the second ; for, if John was 
 reprehensible, in their opinion, for not eating and 
 drinking, our Saviour might be expected to escape 
 their censure, for the circumstances of his appear- 
 ance were directly the reverse. Both of them toge- 
 ther, however, exhibited an evidence of rooted pre- 
 judice too strong to remove, and a perverseness of 
 temper too difficult to please. The matter is then 
 submitted to the judgment of the candid and sincere: 
 to those who have no prejudices to maintain, but are 
 open to the conviction of truth. This 1 take to be 
 the import of the text: "But wisdom is justified of 
 her children." This is the simple proposition which 
 1 am now to cou^ider. 
 
WISDOM JUSTIFIED. 241 
 
 One great end of our Saviour's mission from 
 Heaven, was to introduce and establish a religion 
 which would be acceptable to God ; to reform the 
 world, re-claim men from sin, and teach them the 
 things which belonged both to their present and their 
 future peace. Taking for granted, at present, the 
 tendency of his precepts to accomplish those objects, 
 1 deem it pretty evident, that wisdom would dictate, 
 .and reason justify, the measure of endeavoring to 
 conciliate, by his manners, the affection of those 
 whom he wished to benefit by his instructions. For 
 this purpose, the Son of God was found on Earth 
 in fashion as a man. He took every opportunity of 
 testifying his humanity, yet always supported his 
 dignity. He was condescending in his manners, but 
 never low; he did good without ostentation; he 
 was affable, yet always seasoned his discourse with 
 wholesome instructions, and the most unaffected pie- 
 ty. He was serious, but never gloomy ; and if, at any 
 time, he was cheerful, yet nothing of levity appear- 
 ed in his deportment. He was an enemy to vice, but 
 he was a friend to sinners. He reproved the former 
 by his innocence, and recommended virtue by his ex- 
 ample. Such was the character of the great teach- 
 er sent from God. Had he come to advance the 
 Jewish Church or nation only, we should have 
 expected to see something of the Pharisee in him, 
 which would no doubt have recommended him to 
 that sect. But, then, his wisdom would have been 
 confined to the Sanhedrim, and his good offices to 
 the Jews exclusively. On the contrary, he came to 
 bring the glad tidings of the Gospel to the world at 
 large ; and, therefore, made no distinctions, but con- 
 
 31 
 
242 WISDOM JUSTIFIED. 
 
 versed with all, and preached the Gospel to the 
 poor. He discoursed in private, or minified with 
 the croud, as opportunity oflPered, or necessity re- 
 quired. He sometimes honored a marriage with his 
 presence, and sometimes ate with publicans and 
 sinners. For the latter, he was reproached by the 
 Jews ; but, the reason which he assigned for it, w as 
 not only a justification of his own conduct, but a se- 
 vere reproof also to his revilers. " 1 came not to 
 call the righteous, but sinners to repentance; and 
 the whole need not a physician, but those that are 
 sick." His great object was to reform the vicious, 
 to instruct the ignorant, and open the eyes of the 
 blind. Accordingly, he was equally accessible to 
 all descriptions of men, and he ever mingled ten- 
 derness with reproof, benevolence with instruction, 
 and pleasure with utility. What, if his superior 
 excellence had been accompanied with pride, and 
 his wisdom with reserve? What, if he had asso- 
 ciated only with the great, conversed only with the 
 wise, and restricted his courtesy and benevolence 
 to the rich ? Where would the poor have found a 
 friend ? Where would the afflicted have found a 
 refuge? And from whom would the ignorant have 
 received information? Such a conduct would have 
 served only to foster the pride of a few ; the bulk of 
 mankind had been kept at a distance ; the benevo- 
 lent intentions of our blessed Saviour would have 
 been frustrated, and the object of his mission failed. 
 His holy religion would not have been established, 
 but the world, at this day, would have been over- 
 whelmed with darkness, and perplexed in the inex- 
 K'icable labyrinths of bigotry, superstition and enor. 
 
WISDOM JUSTIFIED. 243 
 
 Had our Saviour appeared in the circumstances in 
 whi( li the Jews expected he would, and wished he 
 sliould appear ; I mean with many outward badges 
 of pump, and power, and splendor as a great tempo- 
 ral Prince, he would have been well received by 
 them, indeed ; he might have relieved them from the 
 Koman yoke, have restored their liberties, and re- 
 established their government ; but, there his commis- 
 sion would have ended. A.ny wholesome regula- 
 tions he might have instituted, would have been con- 
 fined to one nation only, and would have been ge- 
 nerally attributed, not to any intrinsic excellencies ia 
 the things themselves above other institutions, but 
 only to the temporary influence which is always atten- 
 dant on power. Ciiristianity would, at this day, per- 
 haps, have been in little higher estimation than the 
 religion, if it may be called so, of Mahomet, which 
 was conceived in ambition, and enforced by the 
 sword. The private citizen of Mecca, though at- 
 tended by all the favourable circumstances of fami- 
 ly and fortune, made few or no proselytes to his 
 scheme, until he became, by a stratagem, the sove- 
 reign of Medina, and was placed at the head of an 
 army. Such a leader the Jews, it seems, would have 
 wished ; and if such had been the case, however 
 excellent might have been the institution, its credit 
 would soon have been destroyed by the very means 
 of its first propagation. Its adoption would have 
 been considered as the effect, not of choice, but 
 compulsion ; and its principles, not the dictate of 
 wisdom, but the prescriptions of power. Now the 
 conduct which our Saviour displayed and the means 
 which he used, were the reverse of all this. Tiicy 
 
244 WISDOM JUSTIFIED. 
 
 wore the occasion of much reproach in his time ; 
 yet, the wisdom of them is justified of all her chil- 
 dren by the event itself. He was not austere, but 
 affable in his manners, and his benevolence was not 
 restricted, but universal. His doctrines were new 
 indeed, but they were rational : they were not at 
 first popular, but they were sound. They did not 
 avail themselves of popular prejudices, but directly 
 encountered them. They were delivered by our Sa- 
 viour, with candour and fidelity, and he preached 
 them openly in the synagogue. They did not hide 
 themselves in mystery and darkness ; but with that 
 conscious integrity which is peculiar to truth, they 
 sought the light. They were the result of infinite 
 wisdom, and they were suffered by their author to 
 staud upon their own intrinsic excellence. He used 
 no weapon but truth, no argument but reason, no 
 art but persuasion. They had no powerful friends 
 to patronize them, no formidable armies to enforce 
 the reception of them. The station in life which 
 their blessed author assumed, was the most humble; 
 but, through that humility, the wisdom of his pre- 
 cepts shone the more conspicuous. This circum- 
 stance extorted the expression of wonder and surprise 
 from his enemies, ^* Whence hath this Man all this 
 wisdom ?'' His retinue was not a band of soldiers, 
 but a company of men, whom his innocence had cap- 
 tivated, whom his w isdom had enlightened, whom his 
 bounty had relieved, or his benevolence attached to 
 him: who were at once proselytes to his doctrine, 
 and tlie beneficiaries of his goodness. The propa- 
 gators of his gospel were not temporal Princes, nor 
 members of the Jewish Sanhedran, uor eloquent 
 
WISDOM JUSTIFIED. 245 
 
 Koman orators, nor refined philosophers of Greece ; 
 but a company of fishermen, neither armed with 
 power, nor dignified by station, nor accomplished in 
 human literature. The means by which the gospel 
 was propagated, have, some of them, been mention- 
 ed : Behold here the instruments ! Wisdom is here 
 again justified by her children. The conviction 
 which such men would produce on the minds of 
 others, can be resolved into nothing else than that 
 conviction which truth inspires, and the impression 
 must be lasting. When by their instrumentality the 
 gospel gained ground continually : when it con- 
 quered the most stubborn prejudices; when it with- 
 stood the frowns of human pride, and baffled all the 
 subtleties of human wisdom : if it made its way, 
 not only unaided by civil authority, but when the 
 powers of the Earth were combined against it ; it is 
 an evidence, that the doctrine itself is founded in 
 reason ; and a plain indication also, that the power 
 was not of man, but of God. 
 
 Now, let all these things be put together and du- 
 ly considered ; let us keep in view the great objects 
 of our Saviour's mission, and the means which 
 he used for their accomplishment, and see if they 
 do not correspond with the strictest properties of 
 wisdom. Wisdom consists in two things; first, 
 in the pursuit of a valuable object : and, secondly, 
 in employing means which are the best calcula- 
 ted to obtain that object. What more worthy ob- 
 ject could our Saviour have had in view, than to 
 maintain the government, and make honourable the 
 Law of God : to make atonement for sin, and pro- 
 cure Salvation for sinners ? The means he used, that 
 
246 WISDOM JUSTIFIEB. 
 
 men might partake of his Salvation, were instruction 
 to the ignorant, warning to the guilty, and encour- 
 agement to the penitent. If these means are deemed 
 improper, then let us for a moment substitute in their 
 place, those which the wisdom of this world would 
 have devised. Instead of the humble form of Jo- 
 seph, the carpenter's son, he should have assumed 
 that of a mighty Prince. In that case, he would 
 have been an example and a companion, only for 
 Kiiigs, His followers would have been a servile 
 herd of flatterers and sycophants ; of hypocrites and 
 knaves. The poor, would scarcely have ventured 
 to approach the splendid Palace. It would have 
 been guarded probably, by the proud, disdainful 
 Pharisee, who could pay his tithes ; and the poor 
 Publican would have smitten his breast in vain. 
 
 Again, he ought not have conversed with publicans 
 and sinners. With whom, then? why, the Pharisees. 
 But, he did not come to call the righteous, but, sin- 
 ners to repentance. If he had messages of Grace 
 to deliver; if he had ofliers of pardon to proclaim, 
 to whom should he have delivered such messages, 
 to whom should he have made such offers, but to 
 those, w ho were sensible of their guilt and misery ? 
 They would have been entirely lost, upon those 
 self-righteous characters, who made the objection 
 against him. But they were acceptable ; they were 
 glad-tidings to the **lost sheep of the House of Is- 
 rael." And if he was a Physician, surely the sick 
 were the proper objects of cure. 
 
 But, he ought to have conquered his enemies; he 
 should have compelled them to embrace his doc- 
 trines, whether they would or not. Yes, if it had 
 
WISDOM JUSTIFIED. 247 
 
 been liis object to render men more deceitful and 
 hypocritical than they were, this would indeed 
 have l)een the most ready way. We have had ex- 
 amples enough of such a plan, and have seen its 
 effects. We have seen religious establishments by 
 human authority : we have heard much of inquisi- 
 tions, of fines, penalties and imprisonments, in or- 
 der to procure a conformity in matters of religion. 
 And what has been the consequence? Why, 
 swarms of hypocrites on the one hand, and of 
 blood thirsty persecutors on the other. Religion 
 has never been found to flourish under such man- 
 agement. It suffers by it to this very day ; for, this 
 very circumstance has principally given rise to the 
 hackneyed reproach which is cast upon it by infi- 
 dels ; that it is a piece of priest-craft, and a trick of 
 State. Indeed, when the sincere and genuine 
 Christian considers what a dreadful engine of de- 
 struction it has been made, by wicked men: when 
 he casts his eye over the historic page, all besmear- 
 ed with human blood, shed by the hands of barba- 
 rous persecutors, he cannot help, if I may borrow 
 the expression, *^ wrapping himself up in the man- 
 tle of mourning," for the disiionor done to the benign 
 and Holy lieligion of our blessed Saviour. 
 
248 EXCELLENCY OF THE RIGHTEOUS. 
 
 EXCELLENCY OF THE RIGHTEOUS. 
 
 '< Hie righteous is more excellent than his neigh- 
 bor f but the way of the wicked seduceth themJ^ 
 
 Proverbs, Tilh chap. 26th verse. 
 
 An ambition to excel, seems to be common to all 
 men. In a competition for superiority, they all en- 
 gage ; but, it does not seem to be agreed amongst 
 them in what it consists, or what are the most pro- 
 per means of obtaining it. The rich generally claim 
 to be superior to the poor, and the sons of science 
 to the illiterate; whilst the man of fashion looks 
 down upon them all, as from some higher station. 
 Without deciding, however, upon their respective 
 pretensions, I shall beg leave, at present, to direct 
 your attention to a character which is represented 
 in the passage before us, as more excellent than any 
 other. It is found in a collection of maxims or pro- 
 verbs, by Solomon, the wisest of men, addressed to 
 his son. They are intended to form the mind of 
 the Prince for real greatness, and point out to him 
 the path in which superior honor was to be acquir- 
 ed. In his judgment, to be truly good and virtu- 
 ous, was alone to excel. Whether his circumstan- 
 ces in life were equal or not; whether he was afflu- 
 ent or indigent ; whether he lived in state, or were 
 the tenant of the most humble cottage, were matters 
 of inferior moment ; for, every consideration of this 
 kind being against him, the righteous man was still 
 
EXCELLENCY OF THE RIGHTEOUS. 249 
 
 more excellent than his neighbour, m ho should be of 
 an opposite description. 1 say of an opposite de- 
 scription ; because, if this is not directly expressed, 
 it is necessarily implied. The reason for which, in 
 the opinion of Solomon, one man was more excel- 
 lent than another, is, that he is righteous. In the 
 further prosecution of this subject, 1 propose, in the 
 jBrst place, to delineate, very briefly, the character 
 of the righteous man. And in the second, to main- 
 tain the position in the text, that the righteous is 
 more excellent than his neighbour. 
 
 1. As to the first of these, I begin with observing, 
 that when we speak of righteousness, we have re- 
 spect to some rule, by which the conduct of our lives 
 is to be regulated, and the purity of our hearts attest- 
 ed. To act agreeably to this rule, in all respects, is to 
 be perfectly righteous ; and he who deviates less 
 from it than another, is more righteous than the lat- 
 ter. There is no doubt at all, but that the will of 
 God is this rule to his creatures, whenever it can be 
 ascertained. 
 
 The question often agitated amongst Divines and 
 others, -whether the obligation of this rule, upon us, 
 is merely its being "the will of the Creator; or^.in 
 addition to tliis, its being consonant with what they 
 call the reason and fitness of things," is of little 
 moment in the present discussion ; it being always 
 admitted, that when this will is known, the rule is 
 ascertained. 1 must observe, however, that the 
 Scriptures of the Old and New Testament sufficient- 
 ly recommend themselves to us as a revelation of 
 the Divine will, if we consider the miracles by which 
 they were propagated, the sanction by which they 
 
 32 
 
250 EXCELLENCY Or THE RIGHTEOUS. 
 
 are enforced, tlie effects with which they have ever 
 been attended, the instruction they convey, their in- 
 herent purity, or their wholesome tendency. Their 
 precepts are such as we are obliged to approve, not- 
 withstanding the depravity of human nature, how- 
 ever little we may relish the severity of their re- 
 straints. -< " Thy word is truth," said our blessed 
 Saviour, and the sentiment of the Psalmist was, 
 " Thy word, O ! God, is a lamp to my feet and a 
 light to my path." Taking this, then, for our guide, 
 the following is in substance, the cliaracter of the 
 righteous man : he walks uprightly, and he hates 
 deceit; he loves mercy, and he acts justly. He 
 protects the helpless, befriends the fatherless, cheers 
 the afflicted and relieves the poor. Placable to his 
 enemies and faithful to his friends, he forgives free- 
 ly, and he loves sincerely. He follows peace with 
 all men, and whatsoever he would have them do to 
 him, that is the measure of his conduct towards them. 
 This is a part of his character, but this is not all. 
 To crown the whole, he is pure and upright in heart, 
 in the sight of his Heavenly Father. He loves the 
 Lord his God, with all his heart. He obeys from a 
 principle of love, and he loves from a principle of 
 holiness. Hence his benevolence to his fellow men, 
 whom he considers as children of the same family, 
 is not with him an empty name. His charity to the 
 poor, is not the effect of ostentation, nor his justice 
 of a selfish policy. Formed by the model of the 
 sacred Scriptures, his piety to God is genuine, and 
 his professions of benevolence to men, sincere. In 
 him you behold the pleasing union of piety and 
 good works, of prayers and of alms ; of the Apos- 
 
EXCELLENCY OP THE RIGHTEOUS. 251 
 
 tic in short, who toucliing the law, was blameless, 
 and, of the Israelite indeed, in whom there was no 
 guile. 1 shall conclude this head, with a short quo- 
 tation, on the character we 'have been considering, 
 from the Book of Job. " I put on righteousness,'' 
 says he, "and it clothed me. My judgment was a 
 robe and a diadem. 1 was eyes to the blind, and 
 feet was I to the lame. 1 was a father to the poor, 
 and the cause which 1 knew not, I searched out.'' 
 " When the ear heard me, then it blessed me, and 
 when the eye saw me, it bear witness to me ; because 
 1 delivered the poor that cried, and the fatherless, 
 and him that had none to help him. The blessing of 
 him that was ready to perish, came upon me ; and 
 I caused the widow's heart to sing for joy." 
 
 Such is the character of the righteous man. It 
 is truly amiable: and while we admire its beauty 
 and excellence, we cannot but regret, that it is so 
 rare on earth. Time was, when such was not the 
 case. Even in this day, there are some here and 
 there, it is to be hoped, who at least endeavour to 
 deserve it. But, indeed, now that the word and 
 spirit of God, which are necessary to form it, are, 
 the one, so much derided, and the other resisted, 
 they are, alas ! but few. 
 
 2. It remains now to shew, that these are the tru- 
 ly excellent ones of the Earth. This is, in sub- 
 stance, what I proposed under the second head of 
 this discourse, which was to maintain the position in 
 the text, that the righteous is more excellent than 
 his neighbour. I have observed already, that it ne- 
 cessarily goes on the presumption, that his neigh- 
 hour is of an opposite character. Contrasting this, 
 
252 EXCELLENCY OF THE RIGHTEOUS. 
 
 then, with that which has been described, it is evi- 
 dent, tliat a comparison between the two, is but a 
 comparsiou between the loveliness of virtue, and 
 the deformity of vice. '-Form in your minds, a con- 
 trast to the several traits which compose the de- 
 scription of the righteous man, and the result is ob- 
 vious. Let the crafty and insidious be compared 
 with the honest and sincere, the blasphemer with 
 the pious, and the charitable with the extortioner. 
 Collect all the treasures of dishonest gain, and com- 
 pare them with the peaceful pittance of the poorest 
 Saint. Let vice, attired in its most guady dress, be 
 brought into a comparison with the spotless robe 
 w hich adorns the righteous man ; and without wait- 
 ing your decision, itself will forthwith retire asham- 
 ed to the shades of night. Let the poor that cry, 
 let the fatherless, and him that had no helper, re- 
 late to you their several tales of woe, let them point 
 out the man who made their sorrows flow, and him 
 who soothed their grief and wiped their tears away : 
 let the solitary widow tell, who caused her heart to 
 bleed, and who it was that made it sing for joy, and 
 you will join with them to bless the man who had a 
 heart to pity and relieve them. There can be no 
 sort of competition between these two characters. 
 As well might the darkness of midnight contend for 
 brightness with the splendor of the sun : Nay, more, 
 the one resembles the merciful Father of the Uni- 
 verse ; the other, the common enemy of God and man. 
 The tendency of virtue to promote the happiness 
 of the world, and the long train of evils with which 
 vice is evermore attended, bear the most honorable 
 and pointed testimony to the superior excellence of 
 
EXCELLENCY OF THE RIGHTEOUS. 253 
 
 the righteous man, who is so in proportion as he 
 cultivates the one and discards tlie other. To give 
 a detail of these, and point out their connection with 
 human happiness, would protract this discourse to 
 too great a length. Suffice it just to say, that the 
 God of Nature hath established this connection, and 
 that the truth of it is confirmed by the experi- 
 ence of every day. Righteousness exalteth a nation 
 and ennobles the individual, whilst the effects of 
 vice are public calamity and personal disgrace. In 
 support of these remarks, so far as they respect in- 
 dividuals, 1 beg leave to offer you the concurrent tes- 
 timony of all nations and of all men, the most dis- 
 solute and licentious not excepted. The character 
 and respective merits of nations might, indeed, be 
 very justly ascertained by the same criterion ; but, 
 as these are not now put in competition, 1 shall only 
 mention a general maxim respecting them, which 
 some hold to be true, but which, nevertheless, is in 
 all probability false: it is, that things which are 
 morally evil may be politically good. This maxim 
 has, indeed, respectable authority to support it; but, 
 it seems contrary to the very nature of things, and 
 it yet remains for any community to experience its 
 truth, or to practice upon it with success; I mean, 
 for any length of time. It will ever remain true of 
 nations, that righteousness will exalt them, and that 
 sin will sooner or later prove the reproach of any 
 people. That places them on high and stable 
 ground, while treachery and fraud, if they do not 
 bring immediate destruction, will at least entail in- 
 delible disgrace. 
 
254 EXCELLENCY OF THE RIGHTEOUS. 
 
 Neither success nor reputation is reckoned amongst 
 the advantages, which tlie Carthagenians derived from 
 their proverbial Punic faith. It is true, indeed, that 
 brilliancy of talents and exploits may, for a while, 
 conceal the defects of moral character, from those 
 whose eyes are dazzled by their lustre ; but, a little 
 time will always discover, that they are the most 
 approved rulers, and those the happiest people, who 
 derive their politics from the ethics of the Gospel; 
 from the holy word of God. 
 
 But, as the proposition in the text seems to con- 
 template the respective merits of individuals, rather 
 than of communities, it is to the former that it is 
 principally to be applied. I proceed to observe, 
 therefore, that the righteous man is more excellent 
 than his neighbour, in the judgment of the world, 
 in the judgment of his neighbour himself, and above 
 all, in the estimation of God. 
 
 The concurrent testimony of all mankind is in 
 favour of virtue; and, when for any laudable pur- 
 pose, confidence is to be reposed, it is with the grea- 
 test security reposed in the upright man; in him, 
 who means to do what is right, and is disposed to 
 act conscientiously. Who does not at once disco- 
 ver and acknowledge the necessity of rectitude in 
 the magistrate, and of uprightness, as well as talents^ 
 in the judge? 
 
 It has ever been the art of those who would injure 
 the interest of their personal or political adversaries, 
 to take advantage of any defect, which they may have 
 discovered in their moral character, however low they 
 may be sunk in vice themselves. And this is an 
 
EXCELLENCY OF THE RIGHTEOUS. 255 
 
 homage which vice is evermore constrained to pay 
 to virtue; that it not only attempts to put on its 
 semblance, when any advantage is to be gained ; hut 
 looks up to it, as the solemn tribunal, from whence 
 tlie decisive sentence is to be pronounced. 
 
 In personal altercations between irreligious men, 
 it is never, if it can be avoided, one of their own 
 stamp, but the righteous man, that is appointed um- 
 pire. The aggrieved would be loth to submit the 
 decision of his cause, to an unprincipled tribunal, 
 for he knows that it is the part of wicked men, to 
 pervert judgment; nor would the aggressor himself 
 appeal to him with confidence, lest the superior in- 
 fluence of his adversary should extort, or entice 
 rather, from the judge a righteous sentence. In 
 cases more public and important, of judicial process 
 before a court of justice, every body must have ob- 
 served the prodigious influence of character, in the 
 estimation of men. If the upright, good man, be a 
 witness, the excellency of his character, corroborates 
 the particulars of his testimony, and sets the stamp 
 of truth on all that he says. Every body knows 
 him, and every body believes him. So powerful is 
 this principle, that as well as 1 recollect, it was de- 
 creed in Athens that the simple word of Aristides 
 should be received in evidence, without his oath. 
 This was owing to his established credit for veracity. 
 
 But, the righteous man may also be arraigned. 
 Here, the fairness of his reputation stands him in- 
 stead. As far as it goes, and as long as it remains 
 unimpeached, it answers the double purpose of re- 
 butting the charges exhibited against him, on the one 
 hand, and of strengthening, on the other, every legal 
 
256 COVETOUSNESS. 
 
 presumption of bis innocence. Now, if in your 
 minds you will for a moment reverse the picture, I 
 need not stay to point out to you the disadvantages 
 nnder which the profane and unprincipled must la- 
 bour, in either of the two cases supposed. 
 
 But, if the righteous is more excellent than bis 
 neighbour in the judgment, even of wicked men, 
 how much more so must be be in the estimation of 
 the righteous Lord, who loveth righteousness? 
 
 ON COVETOUSNESS. 
 
 ^^Jlnd ha said unto fhem^ Take heed, and beware of 
 Covetousness ; for, a man's lije consisteth not in 
 the abundance of the things which he possessethJ'^ 
 
 Luke, 12th chap. 15th verse. 
 
 There is nothing more plain, and yet nothing, 
 perhaps, more generally mistaken, than the proper 
 use of the good things of this world. Yet, the dif- 
 ferent points of view in which men of different casts 
 haA c accustomed themselves to consider them, have 
 seldom failed to carry them into extremes. The 
 unspeakable importance of the things of Eternity, 
 when compared with those of a temporal nature, 
 have sometimes led men of sober miuds into a false 
 
COVETOU8NESS. 257 
 
 estimatiou of the things of time; whilst, on the other 
 hand, the beauty and the accommodations of tlie 
 worhl, have drawn thousands into a fatal delusion. 
 
 The one class, through a mistaken notion, seek 
 future happiness by the austerity of penance, retir- 
 ing to seek God in the horrors of penury and soli- 
 tude ; aud, divesting themselves of all the necessa- 
 ry cares of life, they hold the world in absolute con- 
 tempt. They deny themselves the means of hap- 
 piness, which were designed for their use, and se- 
 quester themselves from all the busy and engaging 
 scenes of life, where the goodness of God is most ac- 
 tive, and his providence most conspicuously em- 
 ployed. 
 
 The other delusion, the reverse of this, and by 
 far the more dangerous and fatal, is of those who 
 put too liigh a value on temporal objects, and con- 
 sider those things as their enjoyment which are cal- 
 culated only for their use. Being drawn aside by 
 the allurements of pleasure, or the thirst of gain, 
 they sacrifice their intellectual and moral happiness, 
 to temporal acquisitions ; and, like the rich man in 
 the Gospel, choose their portion out of the good 
 things of this world. 
 
 Thus, whilst men of honest intention, but mista- 
 ken in their sense of duty, retire into solitary caves, 
 or hide themselves in secluded cloisters, the votaries 
 of pleasure and the pursuers of gain, would divide 
 the empire of the world between them. But, as 
 man is evidently designed for different stages, he is 
 called to act his part on both ; to attend to the con- 
 cerns of this world, and of the world to come, and 
 that with au ardour proportionate to the importance 
 
 38 
 
258 COVETOUSNESS. 
 
 of their different objects, and with a wise reference 
 from the one to the other. Thus, whilst some ac- 
 count it criminal to pay any attention to the things 
 of time, and others over-rate them, the path of duty 
 runs between the two extremes. To improve the 
 present as conducive to the future ; to use this world 
 in subservience to our final interest ; or, in the lan- 
 guage of Scripture, so to use it as not to abuse it, 
 is the business and duty of men on earth. 
 
 The one is to be considered in conjunction with, 
 or rather in reference to the other. But, dangerous 
 is the mistake, and fatal the delusion, when we direct 
 our aim and confine our views to present objects, to 
 the exclusion of the more important concerns of a 
 future state. For, the things of this world, though 
 requiring attention in a subordinate degree, bear but 
 little proportion to those of the world which is to 
 come. The former are temporal, the latter are eter- 
 nal ; the one gross and sensual, the other spiritual 
 and refined. 
 
 Were the interests of both equally in our view, 
 there could not possibly be any competition between 
 them, for the preference in our choice. But, it un- 
 fortunately happens, that men suffer themselves to 
 be led by present inclination, rather than by reason. 
 Hence, the things of time will ever have the advan- 
 tage with inconsiderate men, over the things of Eter- 
 nity, because the former are present, and the latter 
 future, the one at hand, the other at a distance ; the 
 one seen, the other invisible; the things of Time, the 
 objects of sense, those of Eternity, the objects of 
 faith. Hence it is, that the necessity of faith is so 
 often and strongly inculcated in Scripture ; for, it is 
 a lively faith alone, that can overcome the world. 
 
COVETOUSNESS. 259 
 
 There is nothing more inconsistent with our duty 
 to God, and more unfavourable to our present, as 
 well as future happiness, and at the same time a 
 more powerful temptation to the generality of men, 
 than the love of this world. The acquisition of 
 worldly advantages, is the fatal lure which the great 
 enemy of souls holds out to men, and with which 
 the thoughtless and narrow-minded, are generally 
 taken. However, for want of inclination, or through 
 fear of punishment, they may be able to withstand 
 other temptations which he may endeavour to prac- 
 tise upon them ; he no sooner exhibits to their view 
 the kingdoms of the world, than all their virtue fails, 
 and they fall down in worship. 
 
 It is no doubt on account of the baneful influence 
 of temporal objects, upon the miud, that we are so 
 often cautioned against Covetousness in Holy Scrip- 
 ture. And, indeed, when we say of other evils, 
 that they have slaiu their thousands, we may say of 
 this, that it has slain its ten thousands. In this, 
 as in other things which are not directly criminal, 
 the fault lies in the excess. 
 
 When the Almighty had created all things, he 
 looked upon the works of his hands and pronounced 
 them very good. To use them as such, therefore, 
 is reasonable and right. But, to worship the crea- 
 ture, instead of the Creator; to adhere to the former 
 and forsake the latter ; or, to be so much attached 
 to the things of the world, as to divert our attention 
 from the worship of God, and the enjoined duties of 
 religion, is, indeed, a very criminal prostitution of 
 love, and nothing short of idolatry itself. Accor- 
 dingly, the Apostle Paul, in warning the Colossians 
 
260 COVETOUSNESS. 
 
 against adultery, uncleanness, and evil concupis- 
 cence, adds to the list, Covetousness, which, says 
 he, is idolatry. 
 
 As this vice is so often reproved in Scripture, and 
 such frequent examples given us of the insufficiency 
 of outward circumstances to administer peace and 
 happiness, and withal, as it is a vice so generally 
 prevalent in the world, it will be worth our while 
 to attend a little particularly to it. 1 shall, there- 
 fore, endeavour, in the further prosecution of the 
 subject, in the first place, to consider, in a few words, 
 the nature of Covetousness: and, in the second 
 place, to enforce the exhortation of our Saviour, to 
 beware of the evil. 
 
 To define Covetousness under one comprehensive 
 term, we may do it, perhaps, with sufficient preci- 
 sion, when we call it an undue, or inordinate desire 
 of wealth, or any worldly object. It is common, 
 indeed, to confine it to an avaricious desire of that 
 which belongs to another. But, though it cannot 
 be denied that this is Covetousness, indeed, yet it 
 is certainly too much restricted. It is plain, that 
 our Saviour did not consider it in this contracted 
 view. For, wiien he was applied to by a certain 
 man to speak to his brother, that he should divide 
 the inheritance with him, he did not reprove him 
 for desiring what was not, by right, his own ; which 
 it is probable he would have done, had it been the 
 case. But, informing them that his business was of 
 a dificrent kind, he declined all interference in their 
 common dealings, one with another. And, observ- 
 ing, perhaps, too great anxiety about the iuheritance, 
 he took occasion from this incident, to caution them 
 
COVETOUSNESS. 261 
 
 both, against too great a concern about the things 
 of the worhl, and direct their principal attention to 
 the securing of their future interests. '^ Take heed," 
 says he, " and beware of Covetousness, or too great 
 an attachment to a worldly inheritance; for, a man's 
 life doth not consist in the abundance of the things 
 which he possesseth." Neither does Covetouuess 
 itself consist in the abundance of our possessions, 
 but in our sordid views before we have obtained 
 them, in making them the object of our unwearied 
 and main pursuit, and in the value we set on them, 
 and our excessive attachment to them after the ac- 
 quisition. The disorder lies in the mind, and not 
 in the possession. 
 
 Nature wants few things ; but office, and the dif- 
 ferent relations which we may sustain in life, may 
 require many. It is our duty, then, to bound our 
 desires by our necessities, and to use the bounties of 
 God's providence as things designed for our use, and 
 not our principal enjoyment. To do otherwise, is 
 to mistake the means of happiness for the end, and 
 to love the creature more than the Creator, who is 
 God over all, blessed forever. An excessive and 
 restless desire after more than is necessary is Covet- 
 ousness, and a mistaken estimation of worldly ac- 
 quisitions as our chief good, which is the case with 
 every avaricious man, is idolatry. What ought to 
 suffice the peasant, would be insufficient for the king. 
 For the king, then, to desire more than the pea- 
 sant is not a mark of avarice: but discontentment 
 with a competent portion, and an unceasing quest 
 of gain, argue a sordid love of money, and is Covct- 
 ousnessin both. In one word, Covetousness is jyi 
 
262 COVETOUSNESS. 
 
 attachment to the things of this world, as such, or 
 for their own sake; and differs in degree, according 
 as that attachment is stronger or weaker. 
 
 I proceed now, in the second head, which I pro- 
 posed, to enforce the exhortation of our Saviour, 
 ^'Take heed and beware of Covetousness." And 
 we should guard our hearts against the admission of 
 this destructive vice ; because, in the first place, it is 
 idolatry. Secondly, because it bars the door against 
 the exercise of charity, so often inculcated in Scrip- 
 ture, as the mark of a Christian temper. Thirdly, 
 because it debases the mind, and renders it incapa- 
 ble of intellectual improvement. Fourthly, because 
 it is a growing evil. Fifthly, because it is an un- 
 grateful use, or abuse, rather, of the mercies of God. 
 Sixthly, because it is an inlet to every other vice. 
 And, lastly, because a man's life doth not consist in 
 the abundance of the things which he possesseth. 
 This last it will be sufficient at present to consider. 
 
 When we say, that a man's life doth not consist 
 in the abundance of the things which he possesseth, 
 we mean that such abundance is neither necessary 
 to the true enjoyment of our earthly possessions ; 
 nor affords the least security for the continuance of 
 life itself. To this it may be added, that its ten- 
 dency is greatly to obstruct the attainment of life 
 everlasting. 
 
 It requires the assistance of Divine Grace to ena- 
 ble us, while engaged in the prosecution of our 
 worldly employments, to be contented with the por- 
 tion of goods that falleth to us. But, Covetousness, 
 like the grave which ere long will swallow us all, 
 has never yet been heard to say " It is enough." 
 
COVETOUSNESS. 263 
 
 The amount of pecuniary acquisitions which can 
 render men perfectly contented with their portion, 
 has never as yet been ascertained. This depends 
 on the state of our minds. Where this is not settled, 
 an increase of fortune will not be found suflBcient to 
 compose it. Experience, if I mistake not, has 
 evinced, that this does little else than to whet more 
 keenly the desire of further acquisitions. The pos- 
 session of one field renders another but the more de- 
 sirable ; or, as we suppose, more necessary to us. 
 Our desire of gain, then, like the thirst of dropsy, 
 only increases, it would seem by being gratified. 
 This state of mind, is not only ever restless, but it 
 frequently mars the enjoyment of what we already 
 possess, and endangers our life itself, in the eager 
 pursuit of more. 
 
264 THE CHARACTER OF CHRIST. 
 
 THE CHARACTER OF CHRIST. 
 
 ^^ Wliat think ye of Christ,^' 
 
 Matthew, 22d chap. 42d verse. 
 
 When it is considered, that a man's friends are 
 more or less numerous, and more or less zealous, 
 according to the estimation in which they hold him, 
 this will appear an enquiry of no little importance. 
 In this case, indeed, it cannot but be considered as 
 entitled to the most serious consideration : as not so 
 much his honour as our own interest is concerned in 
 the question, and will be decided by the answer. 
 As far as it respects him, it is of very little moment, 
 what may be the sentiment of a mis-judging world. 
 Once, indeed, at the time when this question was 
 proposed, he was found " in fashion as a man," and 
 the weakness of humanity to which he humbled 
 himself, exposed him to insult which he received, 
 and to pain which he endured, at the hands of men. 
 Then, too, the kind offices of his friends were wel- 
 come : his necessities frequently required them, and 
 they will be had in everlasting remembrance. But, 
 now that he has ascended on high, and resumed the 
 glories which he had with the Father, before the 
 world was, he is far above the scoffs of sinners, or 
 the praises of the Saints. These, indeed, he hum- 
 bles himself to receive; whilst the vices and the 
 scorn of wicked men, can only, for the present, 
 excite his pity. For the present, I say, for he is 
 still the same compassionate Saviour he ever was, 
 
THE CHARACTER OF CHRIST. 265 
 
 not willing that any should perish, but that all might 
 repent and be saved. 
 
 Considering him, then, as the Saviour of the 
 world, the opinion we entertain of him is, to us, all- 
 important ; for, to as many as receive him, he giveth 
 power to hprnmp. the sons of God ; but those who 
 reject him, must perish in their sins. ^' Ye will not 
 come to me," says he, " tliat ye may have life." 
 "What think ye" then of Christ? 
 
 That we may come to a decision on this subject, 
 and be prepared to give an answer to the question, 
 I must beg the favour of you to accompany me in. 
 surveying a little, the most prominent traits in the 
 Saviour's character, and the most remarkable inci- 
 dents of his life. When he entered on the duties of his 
 office, he informed us, that the end of his coming into 
 the world, was to seek and save that which was lost : 
 and that for this purpose he had come to the " lost 
 sheep of the house of Israel." On this account he 
 was called Jesus, which signifies a Saviour. By 
 the direction of God, this name was given him, be- 
 fore he was born ; ^' And thou shalt call his name 
 Jesus ; for he shall save his people from their sins." 
 He is also called Christ, which signifies anointed, 
 on account of his being especially appointed of God ; 
 and qualified for the work of redemption. This 
 name is given, probably, in allusion to the custom 
 which obtained with respect to the Kings of Israel, 
 who, upon their accession or appointment to the 
 Throne, was anointed with oil. As the Saviour of 
 ainners, he is called Jesus ; and his super-eminent 
 qualifications for this important office, have given 
 him the title of " the Lord's anointed." 
 
 34 
 
266 THE CHARACTER OF CHRIST. 
 
 This being the character in which he was intro- 
 duced to the world, you would naturally expect to 
 hear, tliat the circumstances of his appearance were 
 such, as you would judge to correspond with these 
 great preparations, and the importance and dignity 
 of the oifice which lie w^as appointpd to sustain. 
 Human wisdom, indeed, would have lavished upon 
 him all the pomp and splendor of its own greatness : 
 but, this, hov^ever, is not the only instance in which 
 the wisdom of this world has been accounted " fool- 
 ishness with God." 
 
 It is not my intention to present a detail, or 
 make an application of the prophecies which are con- 
 tained in the Scriptures, concerning Christ, to ena- 
 ble you to anticipate the state in which he was first of 
 all to be found. Suffice it to observe, at once, that 
 we find the fulfilment of them in the babe of Beth- 
 lehem. 
 
 It may, perhaps, oJBend the pride of philosophy, 
 and confound the more sober rea^on of man, but it 
 is not to be concealed, that he who was by Divine 
 appointment to be the glory of his people of Israel, 
 "Was of obscure parentage, and as far as external cir- 
 cumstances could make it so, of very humble birth; 
 for, he was born in a stable : yet, in a helpless infant 
 you behold the fore-runner of the future Saviour. 
 
 Sacred history has been very particular and ex- 
 plicit in recording this circumstance; for, when it 
 was announced by an Angel of the Lord, to the 
 Shepherds of Judea, that a Saviour was born unto 
 them, it was given as a sign by which they might 
 know him, that he was laid in a manger : " Ye shall 
 find the babe, wrapped in swaddling clothes^ ly- 
 
THE CHARACTER OF CHRIST. 267 
 
 ing ia a manger.'' And, " suddenly/' the historian 
 adds, " there was with the Angel, a multitude of 
 the Heavenly Host, praising God, and saying, 
 Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, 
 good will to men." The Shepherds, too, when 
 they had seen the bahe, '' returned, glorifying and 
 praising God :" and, good old Simeon, who was 
 *' waiting for the consolation of Israel," when he 
 saw the child soon afterwards in the temple, " took 
 him up in his arms, and blessed God, and said, 
 Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, 
 fi«(»ording to thy word, for mine eyes have seen thy 
 salvation." Being filled with the Holy Ghost, he 
 then uttered some phophecies concerning the child, 
 which have since been exactly fulfilled, but which 
 it does not belong to the subject at present to repeat. 
 You may find them, however, in the latter part of 
 the second chapter of Luke. The humble birth and 
 low estate of Christ, have been made, by some, a 
 pretext for rejecting, if not despising him, in every 
 age of the world. But, as little as we can depend 
 on the deductions of our reason, we may yet dis- 
 cern in these arrangements, the marks of superior 
 wisdom, and justly draw from them, conclusions of 
 Divine appointment, if we will but lay aside, for a 
 moment, our prejudice against poverty and the pride 
 of comparison. We, to be sure, would never have 
 devised such a Saviour as Jesus of Nazareth ; but, 
 would have had him that was Divine, on all occa- 
 sions to display the God. But, yet our rational 
 faculties may teach us to approve what we could 
 not originally have discovered. It is not invention, 
 but the power of examining thoroughly, of choosing 
 
268 THE CHAKACTEK OF CHRIST. 
 
 deliberately, and of deriding justly, that is the pre- 
 rogative of reason. The approbation of this, after 
 such a process, must be, to us, at least, an argument 
 of truth. 
 
 Bearing in mind, then, that we are considering 
 Christ Jesus in the character of a Saviour, we may 
 surely discover the reason of his assuming the "• body 
 which Grod prepared." If it be accounted reasona- 
 ble, that the same nature which had violated God's 
 law, should j^ield obedience, and that the same 
 should suffer the penalty which had contracted the 
 guilt, then, as St. Luke and the other Evangelists 
 express it, it " behoved Christ to suffer ;" and, in 
 order to be prepared for this, that he should be 
 found in fashion as a man. If any one, then, be 
 offended at this, he must surely have forgotten that 
 Christ was substituted in the room of sinners. 
 
 But, wherefore was he made an infant? Why was 
 he laid in a manger? Would it not have answered 
 these purposes effectually, if he had put on the fash- 
 ion of a man in all his vigor, and been created like 
 Adam, in full perfection? No; considering who 
 he was in reality, he ennobled poverty by the indi- 
 gence of his very birth, and rendered humility con- 
 spicuous by being wrapped in *' swaddling clothes." 
 
 Besides, as it was necessary that he should take 
 upon him human nature, it was reasonable, it was 
 right, it was wise, it was merciful, that he should 
 visit it in all its stages, and experience all its infir- 
 mities and vicissitudes, from the cradle to the grave : 
 That he should experience the helplessness of infan- 
 cy together with its innocence ; the bloom of youth, 
 together with its temptations ; and the strength, to- 
 
THE CHARACTER OF CHRIST, 269 
 
 gether with the cares of manhood. Who sees not 
 that by these things he was the better qualified for 
 the office of a Saviour? In this school is he in- 
 structed to succour them that are tempted, for he had 
 felt the same : to pity and relieve the sons and 
 daughters of affliction, as he had experienced sor- 
 row ; and to carry the lambs in his bosom, having 
 been himself a child. This is always considered 
 as a ?;reat encouragement to approach the Throne of 
 Grace, now that Christ is seated on high, and make 
 known our wants " by prayer and supplication." 
 To this purpose speaks the Apostle to the Hebrews. 
 *' Seeing then that we have a great high priest that 
 is passed into the Heavens, Jesus, the Son of God, 
 let us hold fast our profession. For we have not 
 an high Priest, which cannot be touched with a fel- 
 low-feeling of our infirmities : but was in all points 
 tempted-like as we are. Let us therefore come boldly 
 unto the Throne of Grace, that we may obtain mer- 
 cy, and find Grace to help in every time of need." 
 For this purpose it was the part of infinite wisdom 
 to ordain, that *' the Captain of Salvation should be 
 made perfect through sufferings." This was indeed 
 the lot of the Saviour of the world. He came into 
 the world in poverty, and he left it in pain. A man- 
 ger was his cradle, and his dying bed a cross. 
 
 Before I dismiss this part of his character and 
 history, I must invite your attention, to a very re- 
 markable incident of his infant state and the inter- 
 position of Divine Providence for his preservation. It 
 had long been prophesied, that " Out of Bethlehem 
 of Judea," should come a governor that should rule 
 the people of Israel. When^ therefore, there came 
 
270 THE CHARACTER OF CHRIST. 
 
 wise men from the East to Jerusalem, saying, 
 '* Where is he that is born King of the Jews ? for 
 we have seen his star in the east, and are come to 
 worship him," " Herod the King was exceedingly 
 troubled." Mistaking the nature of the Saviour's 
 authority, he became apprehensive for his throne 
 and jealous of the child. After making some fruit- 
 less attempts to discover him, he at length issued 
 the bloody decree, that " all the children that w-erc 
 in Bethlehem, and in all the coasts thereof of two 
 years old and under, should be put to death." He 
 sent off his officers in his vvrath, and had it executed. 
 Then was lamentation, and weeping, and great 
 mourning, indeed. Then many a Rachel was heard 
 weeping for her children, and refusing to be com- 
 forted. But Joseph, warned of God in a dream, 
 of the approaching danger, had taken the child and 
 his mother by niglit, and fled into Egypt, before the 
 executioners arrived. Thus Divine Providence 
 watched over him ; and indeed, who could have 
 seen the executioners on their way to Bethlehem, 
 and Joseph in his flight to Egypt, and not have 
 wished the child God speed ? 
 
 Upon the death of Herod, an Angel of the Lord 
 appeared in a dream to Joseph in Egypt, advising 
 him to take the young child and his mother, and go 
 again into the land of Israel. On this, I have only 
 to observe here, that it was the accomplishment of 
 an Ancient Prophecy ; ^' Out of Egypt have I called 
 my Son." 
 
 In the succeeding period of his life, we discover 
 such unusual marks of wisdom and of Grace, as are 
 truly surprising, and as may instruct us what we 
 
THE CHARACTER OF CHRIST. 271 
 
 ought to think of Christ. *^ The child grew," says 
 the sacred historian, *' and waxed strong in spirit 
 filled with wisdom ; and the Grace of God was 
 upon him." ** At twelve years old," he was found 
 **in the temple, sitting in the midst of the doctors, 
 both hearing them, and asking them questions." 
 These questions were not the effect of childish cu- 
 riosity, nor was there discovered in his answers, 
 any mark of childish weakness. Wisdom, more 
 than human, issued from his mouth, insomuch that 
 ''all that heard him," says the historian, " were asto- 
 nished at his understanding and his answers." 
 
 From this time until about the age of thirty years, 
 be lived in obscurity with his mother and reputed 
 father, working with him, as commentators suppose, 
 at his trade, which, it seems, was that of a carpenter. 
 At this time, after a lapse of eighteen years, he pub- 
 licly made known his commission from on high, pro- 
 claiming himself the promised Messiah, " sent of 
 God," to instruct a benighted, and to restore a ru- 
 ined world. " And Jesus returned," says the sa- 
 cred historian, " in the power of the Spirit into 
 Galilee : and there went out of him a fame through all 
 the region round about. And he taught in their 
 Synagogues, being glorified of all. And he came 
 to Nazareth where he had been brought up : and 
 as his custom was, he went into the Synagogue on 
 the Sabbath-day, and stood up for to read. And 
 there was delivered unto him the book of the Pro- 
 phet Esaias ; and wlien he had opened the book, 
 he found the place where it was written, ^'The Spirit 
 of the Lord is upon me, because he hath anointed 
 lae to preach the Gospel to the poor : he hath sent 
 
272 THE CHARACTER OF CHRIST. 
 
 me to heal the broken-hearted, to preach deliverance 
 to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind; 
 to set at liberty them that are bruised, to preach the 
 acceptable year of the Lord." He then closed 
 the book, returned it to the Minister and sat down. 
 And whilst the eyes of all that were in the Syna- 
 gogue were fastened on him, he said to them, "This 
 day is this Scripture fulfilled in your ears " 
 
 This Scripture to which Jesus Christ refers, you 
 may find in the 42d of Isaiah, 7th verse, and more 
 particularly, in the 61st of the same Prophet, of 
 which the words which I have read, are almost a 
 literal quotation. He then went from place to place 
 and from city to city, preaching the Gospel of the 
 Kingdom. He went about continually doing good, 
 administering consolation to the afl[licted in spirit, 
 wiping away the tears from mourners in Zion, in- 
 structing the ignorant in the way of everlasting life, 
 sympathizing with, and cheering the sad and discon- 
 solate. In confirmation of his authority, and to en- 
 courage poor sinners to put their trust in him, and 
 to convince them that God had sent him, he accom- 
 panied his kind offices by miraculous displays of 
 power and of Grace. Saint Matthew informs us 
 that on a certain occasion, when Jesus had gone up 
 on a mountain near the sea of Galilee, " Great mul- 
 titudes came unto him, having with them those that 
 were lame, blind, dumb, maimed, and many others, 
 and cast them down at Jesus' feet, and he healed 
 them : insomuch that the multitude wondered, when 
 they saw the dumb to speak, the maimed to be 
 whole, the lame to walk, and the blind to see : and 
 they glorified the God of Israel." Tlie opposition of 
 
THE MYSTERY OP PROVIDENCE. 273 
 
 the Jewish Sanhedrim, and of the Roman Senate 
 had not as yet been excited against him. His 
 countrymen, however, I mean more particularly the 
 rulers, when they became acquainted with the object 
 of the Messiah's mission, and the nature of his King- 
 dom — that he came, not to deliver them out of the 
 hands of the Romans, who had subdued them, but 
 to save them from their sins — to restore them to the 
 favour of God — to overthrow the Kingdom of Sa- 
 tan, and despoil the powers of darkness, immedi- 
 ately organized the opposition of the Sanhedrim, 
 who, by artful insinuations, excited against him the 
 jealousy of the Romans, by whom, he was at last 
 crucified. 
 
 THE MYSTERY OF PROVIDENCE. 
 
 '^ How unsearchable are Ms judgments, and his ways 
 past finding out,'^ 
 
 Romans, 11th chap. 33tl verse. 
 
 The most that we can know of God in this state 
 of darkness and imperfection is, that his nature is in- 
 comprehensible to the human mind, and his judg- 
 ments unsearchable. He is perfectly to be known 
 and comprehended by himself alone. " Canst thou 
 by searching find out God ?" says Job. '^ Canst 
 
 35 
 
274 THE MYSTERY OF PROVIDENCE. 
 
 thou find out the. Almi2;lity unto perfection? It is 
 as high as Heaven; what canst thou do ? Deeper 
 than Hell, what canst thou know ? The measure 
 thereof is longer than the eartli, and broader than 
 the sea." 
 
 To his judgments, however, it is the duty of all 
 men to attend, and endeavour, as far as possible, 
 to learn instruction from them. Our sources of in- 
 formation respecting them, are in general the com- 
 munications of God's word, and the dispensations 
 of his Providence. It was the Revelation of the 
 hidden mystery, as the Apostle calls it, to wit: The 
 purpose of (lod, in calling the Gentiles to be parta- 
 kers with the .Tews, of his Salvation ; his including 
 them all in unbelief, that lie might have mercy up- 
 on all, which extorted from him, tfie rapturous excla- 
 mation in the text. And, when we reflect on the 
 ways of God towards men, and view the dispensa- 
 tions of his common Providence, we cannot but be 
 filled with wonder and astonishment, and will find 
 sufficient reason for adopting the words of the text. 
 ^' How unsearchable are his judgments, and his 
 ways past finding out." These were probal)ly with- 
 in the general view of the Apostle, and in this view 
 I beg leave to direct your attention to them on the 
 present occasion. "The works of the Lord are 
 wonderful," says the Psalmist, " and they are sought 
 out of all them that take pleasure therein." Yet. 
 when we turn our thoughts to this subject, we shall 
 often find ourselves involved in inextricable difficul- 
 ties, and be obliged to adopt the language of the 
 same inspired writer; *< Thy judgments are a great 
 deep : Tiiy way is in the sea, and thy path in the 
 great waterS; and thy foot-steps are not known.'" 
 
THE MYSTERY OF PROVIDENCE. 275 
 
 Though God is surrounded with light, as with a 
 garment, yet we cannot comprehend it ; but to our 
 weak apprehension, clouds and darkness appear to 
 be round about him. He giveth account of his works 
 to none of his creatures, but maketh the darkness 
 his pavilion. His judgments are unsearchable, and 
 his ways past finding out. 
 
 The use which I would wish to make of these 
 words, is, in the first place, to give some general and 
 particular instances of the wonderful ways of God, 
 in the dispensations of his Providence : And, se- 
 condly, To adduce such reasons as may tend to vin- 
 dicate these judgments, and point out the duty of 
 man, to be resigned, and to adore. 
 
 And, in the first place, if we consider the general 
 Providence of God, as superintending the affairs of 
 the world, or his special Providence, as exercised 
 over individuals ; they will both appear to us mys- 
 terious and unsearchable. The rise and fall of na- 
 tions are frequently produced by the most unexpected, 
 and, even unpromising events ; and, are to be re- 
 solved only into the good pleasure of him who rais- 
 eth up, and pulleth down as he pleases. By avarice 
 and oppression they become great and powerful, and 
 their very prosperity becomes their down-fall. — 
 They flourisli and make a noise in the world, then 
 suddenly dwindle away, and are no more heard of 
 Some seem to have been raised to the very pinnacle 
 of Glory, as if for no other purpose than to declare 
 the power of God in their ruins. We read in his- 
 tory, both sacred and profane, of nations who bid 
 defiance to the God of Heaven, and were yet per- 
 mitted to prevail against his chosen people, who 
 
276 THE MYSTERY OF PROVIDENCE. 
 
 trusted in bis name, and to carry tliem captive into 
 a strange laud. Wlien we come down to more mo- 
 dern times, we observe events taking place, which 
 fall entirely without the calculations of the most ex- 
 perienced politicians. The best concerted plans 
 are frustrated ; the wisest councils are turned head- 
 long ; whilst on the other hand, the weakest efforts 
 are crowned with success. God exercises his won- 
 derful Providence, in promoting the low, and bring- 
 ing down the mighty, and in verifying the wise man's 
 maxim, that the race is not to the swift, nor the bat- 
 tle to the strong. It will occur to every hearer, that 
 the land in which we live, aftbrds in a great mea- 
 sure, an example of all this. The ways of God, 
 are, in this respect, past finding out. When a pow- 
 erful nation, and well skilled in war, rose up against 
 us, and threatened, in the Spirit of Pharaoh, " 1 
 w ill pursue, I will overtake, I will divide the spoil,'' 
 they were arrested in their career, and finally given 
 into our hands. The Providence of God interposed 
 for us, covered the heads of our soldiers in tlie day 
 of battle, and crowned their arms with success. As 
 then, so also now, his judgments are mysterious. 
 
 Again, when we consider the lot of individuals, 
 it seems to be shut up in impenetrable darkness. Al- 
 ternate hopes and fears, encourage and depress them. 
 The Divine Providence watches over every man, 
 yet he appears to walk in a vain show. The very 
 hairs of his head are all numbered, yet he is in- 
 volved in perplexities and doubts, and seems to be 
 given up to blind chance or accident, and often 
 knows not, on which hand to turn. He is thwart- 
 ed in his desires, his best devised schemes are frus- 
 
THE MYSTERY OF PROVIDENCE. 277 
 
 trated, and Jie is disappointed in his most sanguine 
 hopes. If he obtain the object of his wishes, it is 
 soon removed from him, or the possession of it proves 
 injurious or uneasy to him, from which he expected 
 the greatest happiness. How often do we hear the 
 tender parent mourning the loss of his most promis- 
 ing child ? And, how often do we see the helpless 
 infant left destitute by tlie removal of its parents ? 
 
 When we peruse the sacred writings, the Al- 
 mighty appears to have hidden himself in thick 
 darkness, with respect to his dispensations. The 
 history of Jacob and Joseph, of Abraham and Isaac, 
 of Job, and above all, of our blessed Saviour, ap- 
 pears a continued series of mysteries ; which at the 
 then present time, were past finding out. 
 
 2dly. The indiscriminate lot which falls into the 
 lap of righteous and wicked men, has of old been a 
 subject of wonder and perplexity. Prosperity and 
 adversity do not appear in any great measure, to be 
 distributed according to the respective characters of 
 men. It was a complaint of the Psalmist, that 
 the wicked flourished like a green bay tree, whilst 
 the righteous were involved in calamities ; and when 
 he sought to know this, he says it was too painful 
 for him. 
 
 We find the Prophet Jeremiah, also expostula- 
 ting with his Maker on this subject. "Righteous 
 art thou, O ! Lord," says he, " when I plead with 
 thee, yet let me talk with thee of thy judgments ; 
 Wherefore doth the way of the wicked prosper ? 
 Wherefore are all they happy that deal very treache- 
 rously?" We indeed are not very competent judges 
 of any part of this matter ; because on the one hand, 
 
278 THE MYSTERY OF PROVIDENCE. 
 
 there may be in many instances, much depravity of 
 heart concealed under a fair outside ; and on the 
 other hand, men may appear to others much worse 
 than they really are. Yet, as far as we are able to 
 judge, we seem to discover a very material difler- 
 ence in the characters and worth of men, and w^hen 
 we consider the Providence of God in the disposal 
 of their aftairs, it seems to be very wonderful, and 
 taken by itself, not to be unravelled. There are 
 those, who according to every candid construction, 
 are honest, virtuous men ; they are upright and con- 
 scientious in their dealings ; they are humane in 
 their disposition, and sober in their general de- 
 portment. Tliey appear also to fear God, to pay 
 respect to his authority, and reverence his name. 
 There are others agaiu who are evidently profligate 
 in their lives, unjust, insidious, cruel and oppressive; 
 and who appear neither to fear God, nor regard men. 
 We observe a material diiference in this respect, 
 yet the allotments of Divine Providence do not seem 
 in any measure, for the present, to be accommo- 
 dated to that difference. The former do not meet 
 with that approbation and support which might be 
 expected ; nor do the latter suffer those disappoint- 
 ments and afflictions, which one would think should 
 be the wages of their iniquity. Sometimes indeed, 
 the case is entirely reversed. Tears are the repast 
 of the Godly man, whilst the ungodly prosper and 
 abound. The rich man in the Gospel, who did not 
 fear God, nor regard man, fared sumptuously every 
 day, whilst Lazarus lay at his gate, a beggar, and 
 full of sores. 
 
THE MYSTERY OP PROVIDENCE. 279 
 
 "We are assured that the Lord doth love the up- 
 right, and that his eyes are continually over the 
 righteous ; and yet, when we read the history of 
 his Church, it seems that he had reserved for it tlic 
 very sorest of his judgments. His most pious and 
 faithful servants have sometimes appeared to be 
 singled out by his vengeance. He permitted that 
 they should suffer for their attachment to his cause. 
 He suffered their enemies to prevail against them, 
 and to drag them like sheep to the slaughter. 
 These, no doubt, were the Lord's doings, and truly 
 they are marvellous in our eyes. 
 
 On the other hand, those who set themselves 
 against God, do often prosper ; and though, as the 
 Psalmist says, they set their mouths against the Hea- 
 vens, they have all that heart can wish, whilst aflBiic- 
 tion seems to be the patrimony of the righteous. la 
 this world, says our Lord to his disciples, " ye 
 shall have tribulation." In the mean-time, it can- 
 not but seem singularly strange, that the favours of 
 the Almighty should, in so many instances, be the 
 only punishment of vice, and distress and tribula- 
 tion, the only recompence of virtue. Lastly, on this 
 head, the manner of God's 2;overnment in general, 
 seems of all things, to be to us the most mysterious 
 and incomprehensible : That all his purposes should 
 be accomplished without the least miscarriage, and 
 the freedom of the human will, be left entirely unim- 
 paired : That the most submissive, and the most 
 untoward and untractable temper, should both con- 
 tribute to the fulfilment of his gracious designs, with- 
 out tlie smallest restraint being put upon the inclina- 
 tions of either: That the most wise and holv ends of 
 
280 THE MYSTERY OF PROVIDENCE, 
 
 his Providence, should be answered by the most 
 wicked instruments, and by the perpetration of the 
 most impious deeds, and at the same time, that nei- 
 ther he sliould be liable to the imputation of being 
 the author of evil, nor the agents be in any degree 
 excusable, is truly astonishing : It passes all under- 
 standing, and as the Psalmist expresses it, is a deep 
 where all our thoughts are drowned. Of this, how- 
 ever, M'e have a striking instance, in the suflFerings 
 and death of our blessed Lord- The son of man 
 goeth, says the Scripture, as it is written ; but wo 
 to that man, by whom the son of man is betrayed. 
 Such, are the wonderful workings of God ! How 
 unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past 
 finding out ! 
 
 2. The second thing proposed in the opening of 
 this subject ; was to submit to your consideration 
 such reasons, as may tend to vindicate these myste- 
 rious Providences of God, and teach the duty of 
 man, to be resigned and adore. 
 
 And, in the first place, if we should resolve it all 
 into the good will and pleasure of the Almighty, it 
 should be to us a very sufficient reason. This should 
 teach us with reverence and humility to adore, 
 though we should not be able fully to comprehend. 
 He sits a Sovereign on his throne, and is under no 
 obligation to render an account to any of his crea- 
 tures. He made all things for his own glory : for 
 his will and pleasure, they are and were created. 
 He has therefore a right to conduct the affiiirs of 
 his government, and to dispose of the works of his 
 own hand, in whatever manner it may seem good in 
 his sight. AVe cannot, therefore, without presump- 
 
THE MYSTERY OF PROVIDENCE. 281 
 
 tion, pretend to pry into his secret councils, or say 
 unto him, " What dost thou ?" The question, with 
 which he challenges his creatures in this respect, is 
 altogether unanswerable ; ^^ May I not do what I 
 will with my own ?" — But, 
 
 2dly. What, if God chooses in this way to make 
 his power known, and lead his creatures by the mys- 
 teries of his Providence to the acknowledgment of 
 his name ? This could not be thought unworthy of 
 God, or afford just ground of complaint, though 
 thousands should fall on the left hand, and ten thou- 
 sands on the right. And besides, if all things hap- 
 pened precisely according to human calculation, and 
 in every instance agreeably to the stated course of 
 nature, men would be disposed to supplant religion 
 altogether by their vain philosophy, and lose sight 
 of the God of Heaven, who rules and presides over 
 all. 
 
 36 
 
282 THE VISION OF JESUS. 
 
 THE VISION OF JESUS. 
 
 " We would see Jesus.^^ 
 
 John, 12th chap. 21st verse. 
 
 When we hear the relation of great exploits, it 
 is apt to fill us with admiration, and excite in us a 
 strong desire of seeing the person to whom they are 
 attributed. 
 
 The achievements of our fellow-men, even in mat- 
 ters of indilference to us, will raise our curiosity to 
 see them, that we may behold with our eyes the 
 subject of that fame, which has often filled our 
 ears. But, when we ourselves are nearly concerned, 
 and the actions are such as tend to our own peace 
 and happiness, we consider ourselves as partakers 
 of the glory; and it inspires us with the most pro- 
 found and generous veneration of the person ; and 
 we wish for an opportunity, not barely of satisfy- 
 ing our ciu'iosity, but of paying our respect to the 
 patron of our cause. We have an instance of this 
 kind in the subject under our present consideration. 
 The fame of Jt^sus Christ, the great author of our 
 Salvation, had filled the world with astonishment, 
 and the mouths of generous men with loud accla- 
 mations in his praise. When it was known at Je- 
 rusalem that Jesus was at Bethsaida, where Laza- 
 rus was, the trophy of his power, of whom many 
 Dear record that he had raised him from the dead, 
 antl that he was coming to the city to keep a feast, 
 they welcomed his approach with loud eulogiums, 
 
THE VISION OP JESUS. 283 
 
 Hosanna in the highest, blessed be he that cometh 
 iu the name of the Lord. The sincere congratula- 
 tions of grateful men were a more glorious triumph 
 to the Prince of Peace, than ever graced the proud 
 processions of tlie conquerors of the world. Prin- 
 ces subdued and long trains of captives did not at- 
 tend the chariot-wheels of Christ in a forced com- 
 pliment; but as tropliies of his goodness, and as 
 grateful and voluntary tokens of respect, garments 
 and boughs of trees, were strewed on the way, that 
 their Saviour might ride, as on a carpet, to Jerusalem. 
 It is no wonder, then, that the Greeks desired to see 
 hira, whose fame was so renowned, and for whose re- 
 ception so great preparations were made. But, this 
 was not all. It was not to gratify a vain curiosity, 
 that they came to Jerusalem. They came not only 
 to see the person of Christ, but in him to see and 
 worship their Saviour and their King. The Greeks, 
 who made this request to Philip to introduce them 
 to the Saviour of the world, were such, as having 
 heard of him by the hearing of the ear, had been 
 converted from the idolatry of the Gentile nations. 
 They were what were then called proselytes of 
 the gate, or, as some suppose, proselytes of righte- 
 ousness, who were not entitled to all the immu- 
 nities of the Jews, but were suffered to live and 
 converse amongst them. They desired to see him 
 on whom, though they had not seen, yet they be- 
 lieved. No doubt, they were desirous of being ad- 
 mitted into his company, to receive instructions from 
 his mouth, respecting the things which belonged to 
 their peace. They, therefore, made application to 
 Philip, who was the constant companion of Christ, 
 
284 THE VISION OF JESUS. 
 
 that, through his iutroduction, they miglit gain ad- 
 mittance. And, as they were not entitled to all the 
 privileges of the Jews, lest it should be considered 
 as an intrusion, they first asked leave, and said with 
 a degree of diffidence, " Sir, we would see Jesus." 
 
 Having thus shortly opened the nature and cir- 
 cumstance of this request, I shall proceed to what 
 I principally intended ; to consider what it is to see 
 Jesus. 
 
 When I turn to the awful solemnity of the 
 scene which we have this day to exhibit, in which, 
 through the goodProvidence of God, we are favoured 
 with an opportunity of commemorating the death 
 and suffering of our crucified Saviour, methinks, were 
 1 to ask you what you would see? The answer of 
 many of you would be, we would see Jesus. And, 
 whilst many have come out of mere curiosity, 1 hope 
 some of you, my dear brethren, impatient of so long 
 an absence, are come with a sincere desire, to meet 
 your Saviour here, to see once more the light of his 
 countenance, and his stately steppings in his Sanc- 
 tuary, as you have seen them in times past. Had 
 we been told, that he was on the road and would be 
 here to-day, to keep the feast with us in his bodily 
 presence, how glorious would be the sight, how sweet 
 the entertainment ! What a Heavenly guest would 
 be the Son of God, and with what pleasure might 
 we gaze upon the Lord of Glory ! But, let us not 
 indulge these pleasing thoughts. He has left the 
 world ; he has gone where we shall never see him, 
 until we see him in his Father's Kingdom. But 
 yet, I hope you will not be disappointed altogether. 
 Though he has gone, he has not forsaken us. I 
 
THE VISION OF JESUS. 285 
 
 hope he will be here, though we see him not. Oh ! 
 keep on the wedding garment. Near eighteen hun- 
 dred years ago, he tabernacled in the flesh and was 
 seen of men. Old Simeon saw, and clasped his 
 Salvation in his arras. His presence often comfort- 
 ed his disciples : they always knew where they 
 might find a friend in every straight : He ever re- 
 ceived them with cordiality and friendship, and even 
 permitted John to lean upon his breast. For many 
 years he conversed constantly with men, until his 
 translation into Heaven, when a cloud intercepted 
 him from their view. With a mixture both of plea- 
 sure and of pain, they took their last look of their 
 ascending Lord, and gazed till all the stupendous 
 scene was over. " Yet a little while,'' says he, be- 
 fore his departure, ^* ye see me, and again, a little 
 while, and ye shall not see me, for where I go ye 
 cannot come." 
 
 But, though we cannot with our eyes behold him, 
 yet there is a sense in which we may see him still, 
 that is, by our faith and understanding : for, we 
 walk, says the Apostle, by faith, and not by sight. 
 In a word, those M^ho are so desirous, may see 
 Jesus in the ordinances of his institution, which he 
 has ordained as the medium of interview between 
 him, and those who sincerely seek him. Through 
 the Holy Scriptures, the New Testament in particu- 
 lar, we may maintain a Holy and a pleasant corres- 
 pondence witli our Heavenly Master. The Scrip- 
 tures, indeed, are hidden to many; to all such as are 
 spiritually blind : but, to those who read with a 
 sincere desire to profit by them, and to be instructed 
 in the things which belong to their everlasting peace, 
 
286 THE VISION OP JESUS. 
 
 they afford the sweetest entertainment, and a Hea- 
 venly vision in every page. As, when we peruse 
 the epistle of an absent friend, when we read the 
 effusions of his affectionate and tender heart, we 
 feel a pleasure little inferior to that of his personal 
 presence : so, also, when we read the Holy Oracles 
 which our blessed Lord has left us on record ; when 
 we read the assurances of his love and favour, and 
 the promises of his Holy Spirit, to co-operate with 
 our own endeavours, we may see him whom our soul 
 seeketh. By the sanctifying influences of his Grace, 
 and the illuminations of his Holy Spirit, we may as 
 in a vision behold the Lord Jesus Christ, opening 
 to us the glorious methods of Salvation, giving us 
 a view of the Heavenly Canaan, directing us into 
 the paths of peace, saying, " This is the way, walk 
 ye in it." In the works of nature, we may behold 
 the Great Creator, but in the Scriptures only can we 
 see the Saviour of the world. As the consciousness 
 of guilt, presents to the wicked the awful picture of 
 an offended God frowning in Justice, the sincere 
 penitent, may here see the blessed Jesus smiling in 
 mercy, aud inviting him, to a reconciliation with his 
 Heavenly Father, through the great atonement by 
 liis blood. He may here see Justice satisfied, and 
 the sinner saved : he may here see the Lord Jesus 
 Christ, his friend and advocate, standing as his 
 shield, between an offended God, and the offending 
 sinner, to ward off the blow. Well indeed, might 
 the Apostle say, " I am not ashamed of the Gospel of 
 Christ, for it is the power of God unto Salvation, 
 to every one that believeth." As in the open coun- 
 tenance of a friend; we view the index of a generous 
 
THE VISION OF JESUS. 287 
 
 soul, SO, on the other hand, in the tender effusions of 
 compassion and forsjiveness, of love and friendship, 
 in the Gospel of our Saviour, we may behold the 
 placid countenance of the blessed Jesus. 
 
 Secondly : We may also see Jesus in the solemn 
 and delightful exercise of secret devotion. In the 
 wide theatre of tlie world, the goodness of God is 
 most conspicuous, and his Providence most employ- 
 ed : but the secret retirement of the closet is the 
 scene, where we may converse with the Father of our 
 spirits, and the God of our Salvation. We may 
 retire from the hurry and bustle of the world, and. 
 enjoy a holy interview in private with our blessed 
 Saviour, where no human eye can see us. We may 
 there make known our case, unbosom all our com- 
 plaints to Jesus Christ, our tender and affectionate 
 friend, and commune with him who seeth in secret, 
 as it were face to face. If fortune frowns, or if the 
 world forsakes us, we may here find a friend, whose 
 compassions never fail, who himself knows what it 
 is to be forsaken of the world, and, who in pity of 
 his followers, administers in secret those sweet con- 
 solations which this world can neither give nor take 
 away. In this solemn exercise, we are permitted 
 to draw near to God, and he draws near to us. It 
 is the medium of sweet communication between Gotl 
 and the soul, in which we may, as it were, see the 
 face and taste the love of Jesus, who presents our 
 petitions in his own name, before the Father's throne. 
 The Christian here receives that Heavenly food 
 which the world knows not of, and the sweet conso- 
 lations of the Holy Ghost, which strangers to God 
 intermeddle not with, and which administers more 
 
288 THE VISION OF JESUS. 
 
 pure pleasure, than the men of this world receive, 
 in all the abundance of their corn and wine. 
 
 Thirdly : The face of Jesus shines in the worship- 
 ping assemblies of his people. He delights in the 
 praises of his Saints, and is wont to grace his sanc- 
 tuaries witli his own presence. This is the place 
 which he has chosen, in which to meet his people, 
 and dispense to every one according to his necessi- 
 ties. " It was good for me," says the Psalmist, '* to 
 draw near to God." He is ever to be found of those 
 who seek him ; but he is more especially to be seen 
 amongst his assembled worshippers, and has, as it 
 were, appointed his sanctuary as the place, w here he 
 will meet with such as desire to see his sacred 
 glory. He has promised, that when two or three 
 are met together in his name, there he will be 
 in the midst of them. His Holy Spirit often ac- 
 companies the preaching of his word, to make it 
 effectual in building up his Saints, in holiness and 
 comfort, through faith unto Salvation. This is a 
 near approach to God through the merits of our Re- 
 deemer ; and they who worship in the sanctuary, 
 have often good reason to say with his disciples of 
 old, " It is good for us to be here." Where should 
 we see the blessed Jesus, if not when we approach 
 his Holy Altar, the peculiar place of his abode ? 
 Though we can never be said to be far from God, for 
 in him we live and move, and have our being ; yet, 
 his house is the place in which he especially de- 
 lights to display his mildest glories in the plan of 
 redemption by his Son Jesus. 
 
 Before I proceed to the next particular, we may 
 pause a moment to consider, how unfavourable to 
 
THE VISION OF JESUS. 289 
 
 their own souls, is the conduct of those who absent 
 themselves repeatedly from the house of God. A 
 secret disinclination to the duties of religion, is often 
 covered by the trite excuse, that we can be as well 
 employed at home, and may even have an oppor- 
 tunity of reading a better sermon than we should 
 hear from the pulpit. Not to insist that this is no 
 more than a mere pretext, but allowing it to be the 
 case, that we should employ ourselves at home, in 
 reading and devout meditations, yet we would do 
 well to consider, whether we do not run a great risk 
 of losing the blessing of God by absenting ourselves 
 from the assemblies of his people, the place which 
 he has appointed to dispense his favours. Ought 
 we not to fear, lest we should lose the sight of Je- 
 sus, by abstaining from his sanctuary, where he 
 shews his face ? If we have an offering to make to 
 our Saviour, where should we offer it, but at his al- 
 tar ? This is an ordinance of Divine appointment, in 
 which our worship is accepted, through the merits 
 of our Redeemer. If, therefore, we would expect a 
 blessing, we should not forsake the assembling of 
 ourselves together, nor let our voice be wanting, 
 when CInistians meet to celebrate the praises of 
 their Saviour. 
 
 In the fourth place : They may be said to see Je- 
 sus, who are enabled, by faith, to trust the keeping 
 of their souls to his care. He that mourns under a 
 sense of his sins, who is sensible of his lost condi- 
 tion, may direct his eyes to the blessed Jesus, and 
 find a shelter under the shadow of his wings. He 
 is ever to be found of the returning sinner ; and he 
 that cometh to him he will in no wise cast out. 
 
 37 
 
290 THE VISION or JESUS. 
 
 Come unto me, says he, '^ all ye that labour and are 
 heavy-laden, and I will give you rest." He is ever 
 ready to heal the broken-hearted, and free the pen- 
 itent from the bonds of iniquity. *^ The Lord hath 
 sent me," says he, " to bind up the broken-hearted, 
 to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening 
 of the prison to them that are bound : To appoint 
 unto them that mourn in Zion, to give them beauty 
 for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, and the gar- 
 ment of praise, for the spirit of heaviness." 
 
 Oh ! how precious is the sight of Christ to the soul 
 that is bowed down under a sense of sin! How 
 sweet to hear his pardoning voice, " Son, be of good 
 cheer, thy sins are forgiven !" How happy the state, 
 to have the Spirit of Christ bearing witness with our 
 spirits, that we are no longer the heirs of Hell, but 
 the children of God, through the merits and interces- 
 sion of the dear Redeemer. If any are in my hearing, 
 who have thus seen the smiling countenance of Je- 
 sus, as 1 hope there are, O ! be thankful, and rejoice 
 in the God of your Salvation. If there are any who 
 would wish to see him, let me exhort you to seek 
 him diligently in the ordinances of his institution, 
 and ye shall find him. Oh ! if I thought there were 
 any that had set their faces Zion-ward, I would 
 gladly dwell upon this subject. I would rejoice, if I 
 could be instrumental in directing you to the Lord 
 Jesus Christ, the Saviour of sinners. But, if there 
 should chance to be one who would wish to see their 
 Saviour, let me encourage you to persevere. Be not 
 discouraged because your sins are great. This is a 
 suggestion, which the great enemy of your souls is 
 ever ready to throw in the way. He is apt to tell 
 
THE VISION OF JESUS. 291 
 
 the poor dejected sinner, that his crimes are so great, 
 he need not look for pardon. But, my dear brother, 
 it was for such sinners that Jesus died ; and his blood 
 is of sufficient efficacy to wash away your stains. 
 ** Come, let us reason together,'' saith the Lord; 
 *^ though your sins be as scarlet, I can make them 
 white as snow ; and though they be as crimson, I can 
 make them as wool." 0! come and see the Lord Je- 
 sus, for he is gracious. Come, guilty and heavy-la- 
 den as you arc, come with all your sins, for he is able 
 and willing to save to the uttermost. Come, plead 
 the merits of his blood, which was shed on purpose 
 for the remission of sin, which pleads in your be- 
 half, and if your crimes are great, you will only be 
 the richer trophy of his grace. Had men been 
 guiltless, Christ had not died: the whole have no 
 need of a physician, but those that are sick. Come, 
 therefore, under a deep sense of your sins, and my 
 dear brethren, you come well recommended. Let us, 
 therefore, be encouraged to wait upon him, without 
 weariness, and he will be found of us in his own 
 good time and way. *• He that cometh unto me," 
 says he, " 1 will in no wise cast out. 1 love them 
 that love me, and those that seek me early shall 
 find me." 
 
 5thly. The blessed Jesus is represented in a very 
 lively manner in the Holy Sacrament of the supper. 
 In the common ordinances of God's institution, the 
 face of our Redeemer shines in Glory, as head over 
 all things to his Church ; but in this mournful scene, 
 he is evidently held forth as crucified, before our 
 eyes, with his face marred by sinful men. He, here 
 lays aside the briglituess of his Father's glory, and 
 
292 THE VISION OF JESUS. 
 
 appears in the character of a distressed sufferer. Yon 
 have often heard of our Saviour's crucifixion, and 
 that it pleased God to lay on him the iniquities of 
 us all, and yet by his stripes we were healed. Be- 
 hold there the symbols of his broken body and shed 
 blood. In this sad spectacle, we may behold the 
 sufferings which our Saviour endured on our ac- 
 count. Look on his mangled body, and bedew it 
 with drops of unfeigned love and sorrow. Oh ! Chris- 
 tian, look on him whom you have crucified ; and 
 while your hearts melt under the sense of his love 
 in giving himself for you, let them be broken on ac- 
 count of your sins, which brought your Saviour to 
 that dreadful end. Oh ! look on him, whom you 
 have pierced, and mourn, as one mourneth for a 
 first-born, or for an only child. In these sad sym- 
 bols, we may, as it were, behold the bruised body of 
 our Saviour, and by faith in his blood, appropriate 
 his sufferings as the great atonement for our sins. 
 Like Thomas, we may put our finger into the print 
 of the nails, and cry out with a mixture of love and 
 sorrow, my Lord, and my God. In the elements of 
 bread and wine, we may taste and handle of the 
 word of life ; " for my flesh," says our Saviour, " is 
 meat indeed, and my blood is drink indeed." 1 would 
 not teach you, my brethren, that these consecrated 
 elements are the real body and blood of Christ, and 
 that as often as you eat the bread and drink the 
 wine, you do really eat his l)ody and drink his 
 blood. This would be, as the Apostle says, not to 
 discern the Lord's body. No, we are by faith to 
 look through the signs to the things signified by 
 them. It is designed as a feast, not for the body, 
 
THE VISION OF JESUS. 293 
 
 but for the soul, which does not feed upon substan- 
 tial food. Whoso eateth the body of Christ, shall 
 never hunger, and whoso drinketh his blood, shall 
 never thirst ; but, unless in the exercise of faith we 
 are enabled to discern spiritually the Lord's body, 
 we may eat this bread and drink this cup without 
 any profit to ourselves, but rather in so doing, eat 
 and drink judgment to ourselves. God has appoint- 
 ed these sensible signs, not from any real virtue in 
 themselves, but for the assistance of our faith, be- 
 cause they are familiar to lis, and well calculated to 
 bring to our remembrance in a lively and aiBecting 
 manner, the death and suflferings of our blessed Sa- 
 viour. The Apostle reproving the Corinthians for 
 their abuses of this holy ordinance, particularly in 
 profaning the Lord's supper with their own feasts, 
 tells them, that their meeting together in that case 
 was not for the better, but for the worse. " When 
 ye come together into one place," says he, "this is 
 not to eat the Lord's supper : for in eating, every one 
 taketh before the other his own supper, and one is hun- 
 gry, and another is drunken. What shall 1 say to 
 you ?" says he. " Shall I praise you in this ? I praise 
 you not." Then recalling their recollection to the 
 primitive institution, he informs them, " That the 
 Lord Jesus, the same night in which he was be- 
 trayed, took bread : and when he had given thanks, 
 break it, and said ' Take, cat : this is my body bro- 
 ken for you. This do in remembrance, or for a re- 
 membrance of me." This shows then that the Lord 
 Jesus is held forth in this ordinance as the object of 
 faith, and that he is not transubstantiated into the 
 elements, as some have vainly and superstiiiously 
 
294 THE VISION OF JESUS. 
 
 believed ; that these symbols are intended only to 
 bring the death and sufferings of the Lord Jesus, 
 more strongly and affectingly to our remembrance. 
 When we behold the broken bread and the wine 
 poured out, we are to understand by it, that the pre- 
 cious body of Christ was bruised, and that his blood 
 was shed for the remission of our sins. As we de- 
 rive our ideas in general from outward objects, so 
 these external signs are designed not to feed the 
 body, but affect the heart. 
 
 And, as the blessed Jesus is represented by the 
 symbols of bread and wine ; the one the staff of 
 life, the other calculated to cheer the heart, so, also, 
 they intimate to us, that we are to look to Jesus 
 Christ for spiritual food, who is the bread of life 
 which Cometh down from Heaven : To look to him 
 for that hidden manna which is the support of the 
 Christian life; for the influences of his Holy Spirit, 
 and the effusions of his Grace, which shall be suffi- 
 cient for us, which will make our broken bones 
 rejoice, and our hearts glad in the God of our 
 Salvation. When, therefore, you receive the ele- 
 ments, let your faith look through the signs, and 
 receive the Lord Jesus Christ as your all-sufficient 
 portion. And, further, inasmuch as we are com- 
 manded to eat the bread and drink the wine, we 
 may learn from hence the intimate union between 
 Christ and his people, and, that we are to be en- 
 grafted, as it were, into his body, and live a life of 
 Holiness by the assistance of his Grace. " 1 am 
 the vine," says he, " ye are the branches ; a!)ide in 
 me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit 
 of itself, except it abide in the vine ; no more can ye, 
 
THE VISION OF JESUS. 295 
 
 except ye abide ia me.'' Accordiugly, the Apostle 
 says, " To me to live is Christ." And elsewhere, 
 '* 1 am crucified with Christ ; nevertheless 1 live : 
 yet, not I, but Christ liveth in me : and, the life 
 which 1 now live in the flesh, I live by the faith of 
 the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for 
 me." 
 
 Once more, as the wine is an allusion to our Sa- 
 viour's blood, it is to be considered as a solemn 
 pledge of our allegiance to him. This is an usual 
 practice in confederacies amongst men- The seven 
 warriors round the walls of Thebes, plighted their 
 faith to be true to each other, in a draught of bul- 
 lock's blood ; and the Catalinarian conspirators 
 broached a vein in their arms, and, mixing their 
 blood with wine, pledged their faith in an oath of 
 horrid fidelity. But, what is the blood of bulls? 
 or, what the blood of a banditti of desperate men, 
 to the precious blood of the Son of God ? This is 
 the strongest and most solemn of all obligations, in 
 which we bind ourselves to be the faithful followers 
 of the Lord Jesus. I have been the more explicit 
 in this particular, in order to open to you, as clearly 
 as possible, the nature and design of this solemn 
 transaction. O! Christian, receive this Holy ordi- 
 nance in faith, and you will, indeed, see Jesus to 
 your comfort and unspeakable joy. 
 
 Lastly, under this head : There is still reserved a 
 more glorious sight for all the friends of Jesus ; that 
 is, the open vision of their Saviour in his Father's 
 kingdom. In the ordinances of God's institution 
 here below, we see, as in a glass, darkly ; but there, 
 we shall see face to face ; we shall see as we are 
 
296 THE GOSPEL NO CAUSE FOR SHAME. 
 
 seen, and know as we are known. Oh! how glo- 
 rious will be the sight of tliat precious body iu exal- 
 tation and glory, which once hung for us upon the 
 cross, and redeemed our souls from death. Here 
 we see him faintly by types and figures, in receiving 
 bread and wine ; but, there we shall drink new wine 
 with him in his Father's kingdom. Oh! this will 
 be the consummation of our faith and hope ; for, our 
 faith shall then be swallowed up of vision, and our 
 hopes terminate in complete enjoyment. Here, in 
 broken symbols we may contemplate his body ; but 
 there, we shall see our Redeemer as he is, and re- 
 semble him forever. 
 
 THE GOSPEL NO CAUSE FOR SHAME. 
 
 " For I am not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ." 
 
 Romans, 1st cliap. 16tli verse. 
 
 It generally happens in matters of religion, as it 
 sometimes does in the ordinary occurrences of life, 
 men are asliamed to acknowledge, in public, the oc- 
 cupations by which they earn their daily subsis- 
 tence, especially, if by the corrupted maxims of the 
 world, the idea of poverty or meanness be annexed 
 to them. So, also, in the concerns of religion, many 
 who can see no defect in the Gospel of Christ, and 
 
THE GOSPEL NO CAUSE FOR SHAME. 297 
 
 no impropriety or indecency in the performance of 
 their duty to God, are yet ashamed to practise the 
 one, or to profess the other, lest they should be ex- 
 posed to ridicule or contempt in the eyes of the 
 world, who consider it only as the business of the 
 sober and unpolished, to be religious, and of persons 
 of ignoble blood to profess the Gospel of a crucified 
 Saviour. Did we consider the nature and design 
 of the Gospel, and how necessary were its precepts 
 to our present and future happiness, we should im- 
 agine that it would readily be embraced by all the 
 world; yet, such is the corruption of human nature, 
 that mankind in general are ashamed of it. Al- 
 though they must be sensible, that they stand in great 
 need of the provision that is made, and the mercy 
 that is offered by Jesus Christ, they notwithstand- 
 ing reject them with scorn ; and, if they cannot 
 be saved by their own righteousness and good works, 
 they seem resolved rather to suffer, than to confess 
 their own impotency, or to purchase their happiness 
 at the expense of reproach, or the galling sacrifice 
 of human pride. What an ungenerous return do 
 they make, for the kindness of Jesus Christ, who 
 humbled himself even unto death, to purchase for 
 them the benefit of the Gospel, when they treat it with 
 contempt, and are ashamed to profess it ! So pre- 
 valent and universal is the contagion of evil maxims 
 and example, and such is the corruption of human 
 nature, that there are very few, if any, in our day, 
 who can say with the Apostle, " I am not ashamed 
 of it." 
 
 Surely religion is at a very low ebb ; its doctrines 
 are indefensible, or our faith is very weak, when 
 
 38 
 
298 THE dOSPEL NO CAUSE FOR SHAME. 
 
 men of the most shameful and abandoned character 
 are suffered to triumph over its professors. Surely 
 it is but a small sacrifice we make to religion, if, in 
 deliance of the ridicule of the world, we should not 
 be ashamed to profess and to support it, from which 
 our present subsistence and our future hopes are both 
 derived. If there are any in this assembly, who, 
 in their hearts, wish well to the cause of Christ, let 
 me have the assistance of your countenance and ap- 
 probation, whilst I stand forth this day in its defence, 
 against the libertinism whith so much prevails. Let 
 me encourage you to make open profession of your 
 faith in the Gospel, and, believe me, it shall not be 
 turned to shaoie, unless it be by the weakness of its 
 defence. If you believe in your he^irts, that the 
 Lord is Christ, and will not be ashamed to make 
 open profession of him with your mouth, you will 
 have reason to rejoice that the light of his Gospel 
 has reached your eyes, and that your ears have 
 heard its joyful sound. 
 
 Let tlie scoffers of the age exert their wretched 
 talents, in ridiculing the most important concerns of 
 religion ; but, let me caution them to beware, lest 
 they purchase their character as wits, at too dear a 
 rate, and joke themselves into everlasting destruc- 
 tion. Let me remind them, that the merit of the 
 Gospel is not a matter of empty speculation : it is 
 life everlasting to embrace it ; it is death to reject 
 it. It is, indeed, a distressing consideration, that 
 men, whose interests are the greatest of all other 
 creatures, should be the most blinded to tbem. The 
 irrational creatures, led by instinct in an unerring 
 tx'ack, pursue the objects that are most conducive to 
 
THE GOSPEL NO CAUSE FOR SHAME. 299 
 
 the happiness of their natures ; but, mankind, endu- 
 ed with the superior privilege of reason and under- 
 standing, instead of using them to the advancement 
 of their happiness, employ them, rather the more 
 eft'ectually to secure their own damnation. Surely 
 reason would not lead to so unwise a choice ; but, 
 such is the dreadful effect of sin, that it has set our 
 inclinations at variance with our better judgment, 
 and has subjected our reason to the dominion of our 
 passions. Suffering ourselves to be led blind-folded 
 by this blind guide, has been the occasion of so 
 many of us falling iuto the gulpli of libertinism and 
 infidelity, which make, in these degenerate days, 
 such rapid progress, that the Gospel is treated 
 by the very witling, with contempt, and our most 
 Holy religion has become the laughing-stock of 
 fools. And, as the Gospel of Christ is so gene- 
 rally neglected and treated by many with every 
 mark of contempt, one would be led to imagine, 
 that it was, indeed, ridiculous or absurd, especially 
 as the scoffers would persuade us, that their con- 
 tempt of it was the effect of their superior reason. 
 I shall, therefore, attempt to vindicate it against 
 this charge, and fix the reproach where it is justly 
 due. In order to prepare the subject for this pur- 
 pose, I shall endeavour to consider, in the first place, 
 what the Gospel implies : Secondly, to consider 
 the reasons that induce men to be ashamed of it : 
 And, in the third place, to show on what account 
 the Apostle Paul, and Christians in general, so 
 far from being ashamed, should rather glory in it : 
 "For, I am not ashamed," says he, "of the Gos- 
 pel of Christ." 
 
300 THE GOSPEL NO CAUSE FOR SHAME. 
 
 And, under the first head^ the word Gospel, being 
 a corruption of, or derived from the old Baxon 
 word Godspel, literally signifies glad tidings, or good 
 news. This too, is the literal import of the word 
 Evangelion, in the original Greek, which, in the 
 Bible, is translated Gospel. Accordingly, the Dis- 
 ciples of Christ are called Evangelists, or the pub- 
 lishers of good news. It surely was glad tidings to 
 the world polluted with transgression and exposed 
 to the wrath of Almighty God, to hear that he was 
 yet willing to be reconciled to sinners. Was it not 
 an agreeable, a joyful surprise to the guilty sons of 
 men, already under the awful sentence of condem- 
 nation, to hear that they had obtained a reprieve, and 
 the hopes of pardon with an offended God were of- 
 fered to them through Jesus Christ? Conscious of 
 our guilt and ill desert, when the eternal Son of 
 God came into the world, must we not have quaked 
 with the fearful apprehension, that he had come to 
 bring a sword for our destruction, and to take ven- 
 geance for his broken law ? Had it been so, his 
 sword ere now had been drunk with our blood. 
 But, O! hear the good news, hear it with joy and 
 gratitude, he came to bring the Gospel or the offer 
 of peace, of pardon to us, of reconciliation with an 
 offended God, and of eternal happiness in Heaven, 
 instead of being doomed without hope of mercy, to 
 the dismal abodes of Hell. Who would not have 
 supposed, that the awful ministers of justice com- 
 posed the vindictive retinue of the Son of God, to 
 execute vengeance on the human race, who had most 
 ungratefully rebelled against his Father? But in- 
 stead of the minister of justice, behold the angel of 
 
THE GOSPEL NO CAUSE FOR SHAME. 801 
 
 mercy. The air is filled with the glorious sound. 
 O ! hear, tlie joyful proclamation, " 1 bring you glad 
 tidings of great joy, peace on earth and good will to 
 men. Unto you is born this day a Saviour, which 
 is Christ the Lord.'' It certainly would be a joy- 
 ous message to prisoners under sentence of human 
 laws, to hear that their pardon had been granted and 
 the prison -doors were opened ; and should we not ac- 
 count them mad to the last degree, should they begin 
 to throw in objections against the propriety of the 
 proclamation, and refuse to come out ? On generous 
 minds, the goodness of God iu sending a Saviour 
 would have the good effect of leading them to re- 
 pentance, and causing them to regret the first trans- 
 gression. Certainly, then, we are the more unpar- 
 donable and worthy of the more dreadful condemna- 
 tion, if we should reject the mercy purchased at so 
 dear a rate, and sin against so great a salvation. 
 Did we consider the dreadful fate to which we were 
 exposed ; could we realize the horrors of the aw- 
 ful dungeon which was prepared for the Devil 
 and his Angels ; could we see the iron-gates of 
 Hell, and hear the groans of damned ghosts, with 
 what eagerness would we seize any opportuni- 
 ty of flying from that place of torment ? Horrid as 
 this picture is, it is but a faint, rather than an exag- 
 gerated representation. And, this is the doom to 
 which we were exposed ; and this is a state, from 
 which a deliverance is provided in the Gospel of Je- 
 sus Christ. This being the case, could we believe, 
 that any could be found so mad as not to embrace 
 it ; that so much pride could consist with so much 
 distress, as to induce sinners, doomed to destruc- 
 
802 THE GOSPEL NO CAUSE FOR SHAME. 
 
 tion, to be asliamed of this glorious plan of salva- 
 tion ? Yet, unhappy experience abundantly evinces, 
 that the only effect it has had on the generality of 
 persons, is to put them to the trouble of inventing 
 excuses, or of filing exceptions against it. 
 
 Let us, therefore, proceed to examine, under the 
 second head which I proposed, what it is in the 
 Gospel of Christ, that has given such general offence 
 to the world, or induced them to be ashamed of it. 
 In the first place, the poverty and meanness of our 
 Saviour's birth, and appearance in the world, was 
 as early, and will, probably, be as lasting a preju- 
 dice, as any that have been taken up against the 
 Gospel. The little pomp and grandeur of earthly 
 riches will give a sanction to the words of the most con- 
 summate ignorance and weakness ; whilst the words 
 of wisdom itself, however necessary and wholsome, 
 ■will be treated with contempt or ridicule, if they 
 proceed from the mouth of one who is poor and de- 
 pressed. The heathen oracles, because the inven- 
 tion of human wisdom, were implicitly obeyed, and 
 the splendour of the shrine was accounted sufficient 
 to illuminate the darkness of their absurd and am- 
 biguous answers. The very obscurity of the re- 
 plies received from them, inspired the vain and su- 
 perstitious with the most solemn veneration for their 
 profound, unfathomable wisdom : But, how differ- 
 ently did they treat the oracles of the Divine Teach- 
 ers sent of God ? Though he spake as never man 
 Bpake, being wise in their own conceits, they ac- 
 counted it as altogether foolishness : professing them- 
 selves to be wise, they became fools, and esteemed 
 the meanness of his birth, and the poverty of his cir- 
 
THE GOSPEL NO CAUSE FOB SHAME. 303 
 
 cumstances, as weighty arguments against the truth 
 an«i wisdom of his doctrines. ** Is not this," say they, 
 ^^ Joseph the carpenter^s son ? Can any good come 
 out of Nazareth ? or any prophet out of Gallilee ?" 
 Thus, the only return they made to his instructions, 
 was reproach, on account of the meanness of his 
 birth and parentage, and the obscurity of the coun- 
 try from which he came. Yet, so weighty is the 
 force of truth, that it would have prevailed in time 
 over all opposition ; and it did even astonish his 
 enemies, and extorted from them the involuntary con- 
 fession, that never man spake as he spake : but, 
 what little credit his low birth, and the necessity of 
 his circumstances left him, was totalljtdestroyed by 
 his suflferiugs and death. When the hour of his 
 suflFering was approaching, and he was bowed down 
 with affliction, they openly and cruelly insulted 
 over his distress, and with a malicious mockery, 
 triumphed over his pretensions to save the world. 
 " Thou who destroyest the temple, and buildest it up 
 in three days," now '^ save thyself." ♦< If thou be 
 the Son of God, come down from the cross." 
 
 2dly. This, then, is another cau§e of offence 
 against the Gospel : If the wisdom of our Saviour's 
 instructions, and the sanction of miracles in support 
 of his mission, could not procure him obedience and 
 respect, we need not be surprised if it proved inef- 
 fectual in his Apostles to preach Christ crucified. 
 This was to the Jews a stumbling block, and to the 
 Greeks foolishness. The Jews looked for a great 
 temporal deliverer from the galling yoke of bon- 
 dage. They, therefore, would confide in none, nor 
 would they receive any to rule over them, but a great 
 
304 THE GOSPEL NO CAUSE FOR SHAME. 
 
 and splendid personage, whose appearance would 
 have spoken his power and dignity. They had no 
 need, as they supposed, of such a Saviour as Jesus 
 Christ, who seemed to be even now, more miserable 
 than themselves, and notable to rescue himself from 
 the most ignominious and accursed death. To the 
 Greeks also, it was foolishness. The men of Athens 
 sought after wisdom, and they could see but little 
 of that in the simplicity of our Saviour's doctrines, 
 and nothing but foolishness in the cross. So blind- 
 ed were they with the ideas of worldly greatness, 
 that they conceived of the majesty of God, according 
 to their own notions of power and dignity. When 
 they made their Jupiter to speak, his voice forsooth 
 was thunder, and his grand appearance was a blaze 
 of fire. The oracles of their Apollo, were too mys- 
 terious and too sacred to be communicated to vulgar 
 ears. But in Jesus Christ, there was no such ap- 
 pearance; his majesty was not supported by such 
 little helps of outward pomp and grandeur as the 
 mock-majesty of men requires. His voice was mild- 
 ness and mercy, instead of thunder; instead of 
 lightning, he exhibited a human appearance, for he 
 was found in fashion as a man ; his oracles were 
 not wrapped up in mysteries and obscurity, but his 
 doctrines were plain and simple, they were calcula- 
 ted to purify the heart, to give wisdom and under- 
 standing to the simple ; they were communicated to 
 every ear, and the poor had his Gospel preached to 
 them. It is easy to see, how exceptionable these 
 parts of the Gospel are to the world in general, who 
 are pufl'ed up witli vain notions of wisdom and pow- 
 er. They take offence at the author of our salvation. 
 
THE GOSPEL NO CAUSE FOR SHAME. 305 
 
 because he appeared in poverty and not in honour 
 and majesty, with a splendid retinue whose very ap- 
 pearance might command respect and credit. 
 
 3dly. Tbe doctrine which the Grospel contains? 
 of the future punishment of the wicked, is another 
 source of great oflFence. They, therefore, would 
 frame an excuse for continuing in sin, by turning 
 the Gospel to shame, or endeavouring to persuade 
 themselves into the disbelief of it. To purchase 
 indulgence in sin, at the constant expense of the re- 
 bukes of conscience, is indeed an intolerable situa- 
 tion to continue in. It, therefore, has become the 
 art of the world, to find shelter in the forlorn hopes 
 of infidelity, that they may enjoy the poor pleasures 
 of sin, without being disturbed by the fears of pun- 
 ishment. I need not enlarge upon this : you know 
 how common it is, and can easily see how absurd 
 and dangerous. And, passing over in silence many 
 other particulars that might be mentioned, for offen- 
 ces against the Gospel are almost innumerable, I 
 shall proceed to observe, in the last place, 
 
 That the desire of being accounted wise or witty, 
 is another very common source of prejudice against 
 the Gospel. Tlie age in which we live will afford 
 a sad proof, how prevalent offences of this kind are, 
 and how catching the spirit of libertinism is. So 
 vitiated and so depraved is our taste, that we em- 
 brace infidelity as a mark of superior sense, and will 
 barter the salvation of our immortal souls, for the 
 sake of a dull and silly joke. Such kind of folly^ 
 of all others, is the most inexcusable. They who, 
 to be accounted uncommonly wise, from a petulant 
 itch for singularity, profess themselves infidels, take 
 
 39 
 
306 TUE GOSPEL NO CAUSE FOR SHAME. 
 
 great paius to shew how little they esteem the Gos- 
 pel of Christ, and represent it as the want of spirit, 
 or the want of genius to be religious. Their chief 
 merit, and the greatest mark of wisdom, as they con- 
 ceive, consists in contradicting the opinion of all the 
 world respecting religion, and representing any at- 
 tachment to tlie Gospel of Christ, as a narrowness 
 of mind, or the prejudice of education. There are 
 not wanting persons of this character, in every pro- 
 fession, art and science, whose mark of wisdom lies 
 in contradicting opinions that are commonly received ; 
 but, they are much the most numerous in the things 
 of religion. The common professions of life are 
 much divided, and few, comparatively, are concern- 
 ed about them. These, then, are not sufficient ob- 
 jects for the wisdom of libertines and infidels; for, 
 their conquests would be too limited : but, religion 
 is the universal concern of all mankind, and here 
 their ambition leads them to triumph over all the 
 world. With all their freedom of thinking, they 
 do not so much as consider either the merits or de- 
 merits of religion ; but, finding that it is generally 
 received, they set themselves in opposition to it, for 
 uo other reason than because it is generally received. 
 Their ambition is to shew, tliat they only are wise, 
 and to convict the whole world of an error. They, 
 therefore, profess themselves greater infidels than 
 they are capable of being. It is vain to urge upon 
 them the reasonableness of endeavouring to serve 
 and please their Maker ; it would spoil their glory 
 to listen to the dictates of reason ; for, how then 
 would they be accounted wiser than others, if they 
 believed the same things which they believe ? Such 
 
THE GOSPEL NO CAUSE FOR SHAME, 307 
 
 are governed by no other principle than that of op- 
 position ; and to avoid a conformity to the common 
 opinion in matters of religion, they choose the piti- 
 ful and costly pre-eminence of being singularly bad. 
 The bare profession of their disbelief of the Gospel, 
 is their exclusive title to wisdom ; and to conceal 
 from the world their fears of punishment by openly 
 blaspheming the name of Christ, is their desperate 
 mark of courage. 
 
 Having thus enumerated some of the causes for 
 which men are ashamed of the Gospel of Christ, 
 I proceed to consider, in the last place, on what ac- 
 count, so far from being ashamed, we should rather 
 glory in it. And, here we need no better reason 
 than that which the Apostle has assigned ; " for, it 
 is the power of God unto salvation to every one that 
 believeth.'" To this purpose, also, was the reply 
 of Peter, to the question of our Saviour, at a time 
 when many of his Disciples had taken offence and left 
 bim; "Will ye, also, go away?" "Lord,'' says 
 he, ^^ to whom should we go, but unto thee ? Thou 
 only hast the words of everlasting life.'' This, 
 surely, is a sufficient reason why we should glory 
 in the Gospel of Christ. If it be the power of God 
 unto salvation to them that believe, we need not 
 envy the lot of the infidel, to whom it is the savour 
 of death unto death. If faith in the Gospel of Jesus 
 Christ will procure the salvation of our immortal 
 souls, we shall not lose by resigning that share of 
 applause, which is due to those who ridicule or blas- 
 pheme it. Let others be ashamed of him on account 
 of the poverty and mean appearance of the Great 
 Author of our salvation ; but^ we will not be asha- 
 
308 THE CiOSPEL NO CAUSE FOR SHAME. 
 
 med to reverence and adore him ; for, he has decla- 
 red himself to be tlie Son of God with power. We 
 need not be ashamed of his humble station ; for, he 
 humbled himself that he might exalt us to the 
 Throne of Grod. If we would judge rightly, we 
 must look beyond the veil of flesh, which conceal- 
 ed his excellence from the eyes of prejudiced men, 
 and through the thin disguise we may behold the 
 Lord of Glory. 
 
 In the second place, Christ crucified was to the 
 Greeks foolishness^ and to the Jews a stumbling 
 block ; but to those who believe, he is the power of 
 God. The blinded and inveterate Jews could see 
 nothing but blood aiid water gushing from his side; 
 but to those who believe in him, salvation flows from 
 every vein. In the w^orks of creation we may see 
 the power, the goodness, and by natural inference, 
 the justice of God ; but his power is a terror to the 
 weakness of sinful flesh : from his goodness, we 
 learn our baseness and ingratitude in abusing it, and 
 bis justice affords no consolation to the guilty. That 
 which may be known of God is manifest in his 
 works ; for, the invisible things of him are clearly 
 manifested by the things which he has made from 
 the foundation of the world ; but mercy, in which we 
 can have any hope, is seen only in the cross. It is 
 only by this shedding of blood, that we can receive 
 remission of our sins, and justification in the sight of 
 God. In the cross of Christ, mercy and truth have 
 met together; righteousness and peace have kissed 
 each other. In this we may rather glory, than be 
 ashamed of it; for, justice is satisfied, it is rendered 
 more awful by the punishment of sin, and mercy 
 
THE GOSPEL NO CAUSE FOR SHAME. 309 
 
 more amiable by the salvation of the sinner. The 
 Jews, who stumbled at the cross of Christ, acquiesced 
 in the blood of bulls and goats. When men make 
 an oflering to the Almighty, nothing more could be 
 expected ; and when our King stands at the altar, 
 why should we be ashamed of a royal sacrifice? 
 Here is rather our ground of joy and rejoicing; and 
 we Will say with the Apostle, *' God forbid, that I 
 shoiml glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus 
 Christ." 
 
 3dly. We need not be ashamed of the Gospel of 
 our Saviour, for he has declared himself to be the 
 Son of God. So much was the world deceived by 
 their vain notions of dignity and power, that they suf- 
 fered the glories of the Son of God to be concealed 
 by the veil of flesh, which he condescended to put 
 on. Accustomed to judge according to the ideas 
 that are familiar to them, they could not conceive 
 it consistent with the majesty of God, that his em- 
 bassador should appear in the fashion of a man, 
 and even put on the form of a servant. Similar to 
 this spirit, was that of Naaman the Syrian, when he 
 applied to Elijah to be cured of tiie leprosy. The 
 Prophet directed, that he should wash seven times in 
 the river Jordan, and he should be clean. The haugh- 
 ty Syrian, in the greatness of his wisdom, rejected the 
 easy cure, and disdained the Prophet. " I thought, 
 surely,'' said he, " he will come out to me, and call 
 on the name of God, and stretch his hand over the 
 leper, that he might be healed.'^ He, therefore, turn- 
 ed away in his wrath. But, his servants expostula- 
 ting the case with him, said ; " my father, if he should 
 tell thee do some great things w^ouldest thou not do 
 
310 THE GOSPEL \0 CAUSE FOR SHAME. 
 
 it? How much more, when it is only, Wash and 
 be clean." When, therefore, he was prevailed on to 
 try the experiment, wliich he so much despised, he 
 was cured of his leprosy. Similar to this, are the 
 scutiments of those who object against the Gospel, 
 on account of the humanity of our Saviour, and the 
 simplicity of his doctrines. But, if we would judge 
 rightly, the more plain and easy is the plan of sal- 
 vation, and by how much more unlikely the means, 
 so much the more visible is the power of God. The 
 waters of Jordan had no special, natural virtue, to 
 heal diseases, nor was there any inherent virtue in 
 the rod of Moses to divide the sea : but at the ap- 
 pointment of God, the waters of Jordan were made 
 clTectual, and the sea fled back at the touch of 
 Moses's rod. Surely, when the weak things of the 
 world confound the things that are mighty, it is the 
 more evident, that the power is of God, and not of 
 man. Thus, the works which Jesus did, testify of 
 him, that he was the Son of God, though clothed in 
 the weakness of human flesh. 
 
EVIL SOCIETY. 311 
 
 EVIL SOCIETY. 
 
 '^ Blessed is the man that walketh not in the, counsel 
 of the ungodly, nor standeth in the way of sinners, 
 nor sitteth in the seat of the scornfuL^^ 
 
 1st Psalm, 1st verse. 
 
 The general tendency of this Psalm, is to describe 
 the character, and declare the blessedness of the 
 religious man ; with which is contrasted the misery 
 of the wicked, both here and hereafter. The gra- 
 dation by which the royal Psalmist has risen in 
 his description, in the verse which contains our text, 
 denotes the progressive steps by which men attain to 
 the utmost pitch of wickedness that they are capa- 
 ble of in this world. 
 
 And, whereas the text says, "Blessed is the man 
 who walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly." 
 We observe the most positive meaning in these 
 negative terms. The unhappy lot of the contemp- 
 tuous sinners seems more emphatically declared, 
 than if all the terrors of the law had been directly 
 denounced. If he may be called blessed, who walk- 
 eth not in the counsel of the ungodly, what must be 
 his portion that deviseth mischief ? If the very com- 
 pany of sinners be so infectious, how great must be 
 their pollution, and how odious their character ? If a 
 man cannot, with impunity, associate himself with 
 such, how dreadful must be their condemnation, who, 
 in addition to their own immediate crimes, have also 
 the blood of others on their Iieads ? 
 
812 EVIL SOCIETY. 
 
 That this sentiment may not be reckoned invidi- 
 ous, and that whatis to follow ma.v be guarded against 
 misconstruction, I would observe, here, that by the 
 society of wicked men, 1 mean not a kind and friendly 
 communication with them, a courteous demeanor 
 towards them^, or a respectful attention to them^ 
 which is all necessary and proper ; but, only such a 
 connection as immediately implies, or is necessarily 
 attended with a fellowship in their crimes. Having 
 premised this, I proceed to a further consideration 
 of the subject. 
 
 The clue which the Psalmist affords, leads us di- 
 rectly to consider, in the first place, the various 
 steps by which men ascend to eminence, or more 
 properly speaking, sink to infamy in vice. And, 
 
 2dly. The danger with which the company of 
 such is attended. These two considerations will oc- 
 cupy the present discourse. To each of these, I 
 Avill speak a little in order, and then conclude with 
 some short improvement. 
 
 In the first place, then, the various steps by which 
 men advance to a confirmed, and almost hopeless 
 state of wickedness, are designated in the text, not 
 only in their most natural order, but in the most 
 striking manner of expression. The wicked man is 
 introduced in the beginning of his career and pur- 
 sued to the end of it. First, he *• walketh in the 
 counsels of the ungodly." He yields to their soli- 
 citations, and for want of reflection advances in their 
 way. We are then led to behold him standing in 
 the way of sinners. He not only doth not forsake 
 their company, but seemeth deliberately to choose ; 
 or, perhaps from his posture, to be watching for it. 
 
EVIL SOCIETY. 313 
 
 At last we find him seated in the scorner's chair ; 
 not only in the highest possible degree of guilt, but 
 with a determined resolution to keep possession. 
 So easy and so sudden is preferment in vice ! 
 
 It is a common observation, and one that is gene- 
 rally admitted, that no man becomes very wicked all 
 at once. Together with the native deformity of vice, 
 the force of early education, and the Universal autho- 
 rity of conscience, there are many bairriers which must 
 be broken through, before he can enter fully into the 
 practice of iniquity, and make great proficiency in it. 
 We may add to this, that the world at large seemeth 
 to agree with the voice of reason and revelation, in 
 condemning a wicked and abandoned character. 
 As long as tlie influence of these remains, the efi'ect 
 is a comparatively regular and harmless life. 1 do 
 not say, tliat any, or all of these considerations to- 
 gether, will be sufficient to produce a love of virtue ; 
 but, they will certainly avail to prevent any great 
 deviation from it in practice. If they do not render 
 true religion amiable, at least they spread an awful 
 glory round it. They impress such a sense of its 
 majesty and excellence, as makes the young prac- 
 titioner of vice to stand in awe, extorts his respect 
 at least, and we would think, should forever defend 
 it against contempt and scorn, the very last degree 
 of human guilt. But, thougli men enter cautiously 
 on a course of sin, they seldom stop short of the 
 scorner's chair. A wretched station this, which none 
 but men can fill ! The J3evils believe, and tremble ; 
 profligate men believe and sneer. 
 
 Wherever this takes place, however, it is never 
 at the entrance, but always at the conclusion of a 
 
 40 
 
314 EVIL SOCIETY. 
 
 wicked course. The counsel of the ungodly, and 
 the solicitations of greater proficients, prepare the 
 way. These draw the young and unwary, insensi- 
 bly into the snare, which they have laid for youth- 
 ful virtue. They insinuate themselves into their fa- 
 vour and confidence ; they expatiate on the pleasures 
 of sin, and have already learned to rail every reli- 
 gious scruple a'childish weakness. All these things 
 co-operating with the inherent corruption with which 
 human nature is imbued, too often prove a poAverful 
 temptation, and engage the unpractised youth to lis- 
 ten to the counsel of ungodly men, and to walk in it. 
 
 This first step being taken, necessity impels him 
 to advance. When innocence is gone, conscious 
 shame takes place. He shuns the company of his 
 sober friends whom he has deserted. He fears an 
 interview, because he deserves rebuke. He stands 
 aloof from those by whose remonstrances and entrea- 
 ties he might be reclaimed, while his conscience was 
 yet tender and his lieart susceptible of good impres- 
 sions. He adheres to his new companions, as the 
 only refuge from the consciousness of guilt, and the 
 uneasiness of remorse. Timid and cautious at first, 
 it now becomes his interest to give a loose to licen- 
 tiousness, in mirth and wine ; to stand in the way 
 of sinners, that their company and counsels may 
 bear him up against the rebukes of conscience, and 
 divert the gloomy reflections of a wounded mind. 
 
 But, not to dwell longer on these intermediate 
 steps, experience has shown, that the sad propensity 
 to vice becomes strengthened and confirmed by in- 
 dulgence in a profligate course of life. It is a great 
 unhappiucss, that, while guilt is increased, the heart 
 
EVIL SOCIETY. 315 
 
 is hai'dened. The conscience becomes seared, and 
 leaves us at liberty to persevere in a course of sin Avith- 
 out remorse or controul. The transition now is short 
 and easy. Free from those restraints which religion 
 imposes ; free from those qualms of conscience, and 
 those little religious scruples which restrain the li- 
 berty and destroy the peace of weak and timid 
 minds, with all the unfeeling majesty of triumphant 
 guilt, we take possession of the scorner's chain We 
 laugh in our turn, at those doughty fears which once 
 appalled us, and keep the vulgar multitude in awe. 
 We make a mock of sin. We bestow upon the Bi- 
 ble all the sprightly epithets, which malice has in- 
 vented, and ignorance proclaimed. We despise the 
 ordinances of the Gospel ; we ridicule those that at- 
 tend them, and call them mighty good. With ma- 
 lignant wonder, we behold, and with sullen pride, 
 disdain, the weakness of our fathers and religious 
 friends, who make a conscience of their duty to God 
 and have a reverence for religion. We could wish 
 them more polite accomplishments ; that they were a 
 little acquainted with the world, and were more agree- 
 able companions. And, with respect to all others, 
 with whom we are happily not connected, we call 
 them fools, fanatics, hypocrites ; or, if we would re- 
 proach them still more, we call them Saints. If in- 
 stances of this were wanting, what has been said 
 might be considered as a fictitious rant. But, alas ! 
 allowing for what maybe inaccurate ill the picture, 
 there can be no doubt of the original from whence it 
 is drawn. Attend to the conversation of such as 
 call themselves men of the world, upon this subject, 
 and, what is it else ? If religion be indeed a weak- 
 
316 EVIL SOCIETY. 
 
 ness, we certainly live in an age of no little refiue- 
 ment. 
 
 But if, on the other hand, religion be not a weak- 
 ness ; but the glory and ornament of man; and of 
 that vast importance to our future welfare, of which 
 we are told it is, then, to be sure, the conduct of 
 such must be reprehensible in itself, and destructive 
 in its consequences. Their example is unworthy 
 of imitation; nor is their company safe. This is 
 what I proposed to consider, under the second head 
 of discourse. 
 
 The proposition is, that the wicked courses of 
 ungodly men are not only fatal to themselves, but 
 very pernicious to others, who, in the language of 
 the text, stand in their way. This will appear 
 from two considerations : First, the immediate influ- 
 ence of their example ; and, secondly, the various 
 advantages for a religious life, of which their fellow- 
 ship deprives us. 
 
 Mankind, in general, are exceedingly prone to 
 imitation. There is a contagion in example, with 
 which we become infected, crc we are aware. — 
 Universal experience and observation have confirm- 
 ed this truth, that by degrees we insensibly imbibe 
 the principles, and are assimilated to the manners 
 of those with whom we associate. 
 
 The irreligious lives of wicked men are too con- 
 sonant to the inherent depravity of human nature, 
 not to prove a very alluring bait. And, though the 
 habits of a virtuous education, like habits of every 
 kind, are strong ; yet, they are not an impregnable 
 fortress, unless they are confirmed by a renovation 
 of the heart. They yield to the solicitations of 
 
EVIL SOCIETY. 317 
 
 guilt, and fall an easy prey to the power of tempta- 
 tions. Let us suppose a youth, then, just dismissed 
 from the care of pious parents, and entering on the 
 theatre of life, to act his part. On the very stating 
 of this case, we feel ourselves interested in his wel- 
 fare, and apprehensive, particularly on account of 
 his virtue. We are very sensible of the great jeo- 
 pardy in which it stands, from an ensnaring world ; 
 and secretly wish, that God would be pleased to 
 preserve him from tlie society and stratagems of 
 wicked men. If, as I have stated, the parents of 
 the youth have true religion, or a reverence for it, 
 the father or mother will hold to him, at parting, 
 in substance, the following discourse: "My son, 
 you are now about to leave us, and act for yourself. 
 We doubt not, but that by industry and prudence 
 in your calling, you will make a livelihood. But, 
 we shall be particularly glad to hear that you be- 
 have well. Be religions, ray son, and God will 
 bless you. Keep company with religious people ; 
 they will prove your truest friends ; they will as- 
 sist you with their advice, and they will have a ten- 
 der care of your morals. But, O ! beware of wick- 
 ed company. They w ill endeavour to draw yoii in ; 
 and, if you join with them, they will certainly work 
 your ruin. If you would be a comfort to your parents 
 in their old age, and to all your religious fiiends, let 
 us never hear that you keep company with the pro- 
 fligate and impious." This, or language like it, 
 will be their last affectionate charge to their beloved 
 child. Such, also, was the wholesome counsel of 
 the wise man : " My son, if sinners entice thee, con- 
 sent thou not." 
 
318 EVIL SOCIETY. 
 
 Let US now add to the immediate influence of bad 
 examples, the loss to be sustained by associating 
 with wicked men, as to opportunities of improve- 
 ment in religion. There is something in the rea- 
 sonableness of religion, which teaches us to adore 
 our Maker and love our benefactor; and, more es- 
 pecially, in its necessary connection both with our 
 present and our future peace, which sliould entitle 
 it to the respect, and recommend it to the choice of 
 every reflecting mind. To aid ns in the attainment 
 of this religion, or in progress in it, several direc- 
 tions arc given us in Scripture, which are intended, 
 amongst other things, for the rule of life. Two of 
 them will be suflicient for my present purpose, and, 
 therefore, I shall not mention more : One of them 
 is secret retirement, and the other is the company 
 of godly men. Wq are directed to commune with 
 our own hearts ; and the Psalmist, to secure and 
 crown his religious attainments, concludes his reso- 
 lution in these words: "I am a companion of all 
 them that fear thee, and of them that keep thy law.'' 
 And, great are the advantages of such associations. 
 They assist, encourage, and support one another. 
 They bear each other's burdens, assist their good 
 resolutions, relieve their doubts, encourage their 
 hopes, dissipate their fears ; they assist the weak, 
 and cheer the disconsolate. Now, these are great 
 and special advantages, of Avhich the society of 
 wicked men effectually deprives us. If we go with 
 them, we have no time, and but little inclination for 
 serious reflection. We must give up the means of 
 grace for those of sensual gratifications. We must 
 employ our time and talents to the service of sin, 
 
THE RESURRECTION. 319 
 
 instead of the service of God. We hear nothing 
 that savours of religion, from the scorner's chair. 
 If it be mentioned, it is only in contempt or ridicule. 
 If we walk in the counsel of the ungodly, we hear 
 no good advice : if we stand in the way of sinners, 
 evil overtakes us ; and, the seat of the scornful is 
 the station of death. 
 
 THE RESURRECTION. 
 
 *^And God hath both raised up the Lord, andivill 
 raise up us, also, by his own jJoiverJ' 
 
 1st Corinthians, 6th chap. 14lh verse. 
 
 Although it is sufficiently evident, that man, as 
 a rational creature, will also be accountable for his 
 actions, and there is something implanted within him, 
 which shrinks back with horror at the thoughts of a 
 dissolution, which painfully forebodes a future judg- 
 ment, and intimates an eternity to come ; yet, the 
 consideration of the mortality of man, the separation 
 of his soul and body, and the dissolution of the lat- 
 ter into dust and ashes, have occasioned some objec- 
 tions against the doctrine of Immortality ; since, ac- 
 cording to the present state of things, it must depend 
 upon the Resurrection of the body. The Immortality 
 
320 THE RESURHECTION. 
 
 of the soul, indeed, is not aflfected even by death ; for, 
 as far as we can see, it docs not deprive it of any of 
 the properties of an immaterial, thinking substance. 
 But, a very material alteration takes place in the 
 body ; and the Resurrection of it from the grave after 
 being dissolved into dust, does not, indeed, appear 
 to be evident, upon the bare light of reason or na- 
 ture ; for, we do not see in nature any such simili- 
 tude as dust and ashes rising into life. This difficul- 
 ty has given occasion to many curious speculations, 
 as to what is the man. They who would support 
 the doctrine of Immortality and a future judgment, 
 from the original intimations of nature ; or, in other 
 words, from what passes in our own breast ; in or- 
 der to get over the difficulties which the dissolution 
 of the body throws in their way, have endeavoured 
 to prove that the soul only is tlie man. They allow, 
 that human nature is composed of soul and body ; 
 that this soul is of two kinds, sensitive and rational ; 
 and contend that tlie latter only survives the common 
 wreck of nature, and lives beyond the grave. But, 
 though their apprehensions of futurity be founded 
 in nature, so much 1 think cannot be said for the 
 manner in which they attempt to support them, by 
 endeavouring to rid their doctrine of the difficulties 
 which death occasions, in which nature's most san- 
 guine hopes arc blasted ; for, it does not seem a very 
 reasonable and satisfactory conclusion, that simple 
 thought should make tlie individual, in a future 
 state, which in this is composed of body, sensation 
 and thought. Others again, because the Resurrec- 
 tion of tlie body cannot be ascertained by clear and 
 undeniable intimations of nature, as they suppose, 
 
THE RESURRECTION. 321 
 
 and which I am willing to allow to be the case, have 
 denied that there is any hereafter, and disbelieve 
 the assurances that are given us in Scripture, of the 
 resurrection of the body ; because, they contend, 
 that it contradicts the original law of our nature. 
 We shall consider, presently, the force of this argu- 
 ment. The truth is, the original and universal voice 
 of nature is, that man is designed to be immor- 
 tal, though nature cannot get over the difficulties 
 that are occasioned by the dissolution of the body, 
 nor tell how to preserve, for a future state, those 
 very individuals which we see evidently destroyed 
 by death. The question, then, is, are not the Scrip- 
 tures founded upon the original law of our nature ; 
 or, can we suppose that the all- wise Creator made 
 nature at first imperfect, and found it necessary, up- 
 on experience, to amend his plan? There is no 
 doubt, that all things came perfect from the hand of 
 God ; and the obscurity of the light of nature must 
 be attributed to another cause. This cause is death ; 
 andj as death is certainly a breacli upon the state of 
 nature, it is no wonder it should be a difficulty in 
 the religion of nature; for, the religion of nature 
 was most certainly adapted to the original state of 
 nature. 
 
 The wise man tells us, "That God made not 
 death : for, he created all things that tliey might 
 have their being, and the generations of the world 
 were healthful, and there is no poison of destruc- 
 tion in them, nor the kingdom of death upon earth: 
 for, righteousness is immortal ; but, ungodly men 
 with their works and words call it unto them." 
 If, then, immortality were the condition of the crea- 
 
 41 
 
822 THE RESURRECTION. 
 
 tion, and death came in as a surprise upon nature, 
 it is no wonder if slie stands silent and astonished 
 at the fatal change, and seems neither willing to 
 part with her hopes of immortality, nor yet quite 
 able to support them. Thus, it is evident, that the 
 coming in of death obscured the original light of na- 
 ture, and made a revelation necessary to supply the 
 defects of nature ; and with great propriety, indeed, 
 may it be said, that life and immortality have been 
 brought to light by the Gospel. So far, then, is this 
 from being an argument against revelation, that every 
 candid person must allow it to be an argument in 
 its favour ; and, instead of cavilling against it, we 
 should rather adore the goodness of God in giving 
 us a sure and lively hope that we shall never die. 
 
 There is nothing better calculated to support the 
 spirit, under all the trying vicissitudes of human 
 life, and defend us against the natural fears of death, 
 than the blessed hope that is given us in the text of 
 a resurrection from the grave. Death, in itself, is 
 a great enemy to human nature, in as much as it 
 puts an end to all our enjoyments, and dissolves 
 that tender and intimate connexion that subsists be- 
 tween the soul and body, the nearest and the best 
 of friends. There is implanted in the heart of man, 
 a natural desire of happiness : and if, after a few 
 years, a final end was to be put to our existence, 
 and we were to sink into our primeval nothing, it 
 would cast a melancholy gloom on our most pleasing 
 prospects : the apprehensions of a dissolution would 
 mar all our enjoyments ; and, through the fear of 
 death, we should, indeed, be all our life subject to 
 bondage. But, blessed be God ! he has given our 
 
THE RESURRECTION. 323 
 
 souls a lively hope, that they shall never die ; and, 
 though our bodies be consigned to the dust, we have 
 yet the fullest assurance that they, also, shall rise 
 again : " For,'' says the text, ^^ God hath both rais- 
 ed up the Lord, and will raise up us, also, by his 
 own power." 
 
 In the further prosecution of these words, I shall 
 consider a little more fully, these two propositions 
 in order to shew : 
 
 1st. That God hath actually raised up the Lord, 
 2dly. In consequence of this, that he will raise up 
 us, also. 
 
 In the first place, then, we are to consider the 
 resurrection of our blessed Lord. As this is a great 
 and important event on which the Christian's hope 
 relies, (for, if Christ be not risen, his hope is vain,) 
 so it is an event which, to the wicked, is big with 
 terror and dismay. The interests of the two are 
 widely different ; the hopes of the one are support- 
 ed, and the hopes of the other are totally blasted, 
 by the resurrection of Christ. Accordingly, the 
 enemies of religion have summoned up all their 
 malice to confute the arguments and proofs that are 
 to be produced in its support : but, being driven 
 from this resource, they have taken shelter in the 
 most unpardonable obstinacy, and shut their eyes 
 against the clearest light of reason and revelation. 
 They pretend to despise the arguments whit h they 
 cannot refute, and unreasonably contend, that the re- 
 surrection of the dead is a thing in itself impossible; 
 and, therefore, that no arguments in its favour, however 
 plausible, deserve any serious consideration. They 
 endeavour to repel the truth, by refusing to see it, 
 
324 THE IIESUKKECTION. 
 
 lest it should disturb their dangerous security, and 
 are just like little childreu, who shut their eyes lest 
 you should see them. 
 
 It would be an endless task to examine all the ar- 
 guments, that are to be found on this important sub- 
 ject. A few of the most direct proofs, drawn from 
 the word of God, 1 suppose would be sufficient for my 
 present purpose; but, as infidelity has now become 
 a fashionable vice, and many of our youth, especi- 
 ally, are so unhappy as to esteem it a mark of po- 
 liteness and refined wit to cavil against the Scrip- 
 tures and dispute their truth, I shall first beg leave^ 
 for a moment, to enter the lists with such, upon their 
 own ground, and try if it will not appear, from rea- 
 son itself, of which they boast so much, indepen- 
 dently of revelation, that the resurrection of the 
 dead, however extraordinary, is a thing in itself by 
 uo means impossible. 
 
 If, then, we attend to the voice of reason only, we 
 must acknowledge, that before we pronounce pe- 
 remptorily on the possibility or impossibility of any 
 thing whatever, we are to take into consideration, 
 not only the difficulty of the thing itself, but the pow- 
 er of him whom we expect to accomplish it. The 
 resurrection of the dead, it must be granted, is a 
 great and extraordinary act of power. When the 
 breath is once departed, not all the charms of medi- 
 cine, nor strength of man, are able to restore it. 
 Noah and Abraham, and all the ancient Patriarchs, 
 have long mouldered in the dust, and are still the 
 prisoners of the grave; and, should we endeavour 
 to restore a dead man to life, we, indeed, should 
 judge but weakly of the extent of our abilities. 
 
THE KESURRECTION. 325 
 
 With man, indeed ; weak, feeble man, this is im- 
 possible ; but, with God, all things are possible ; for, 
 surely we are not to scan the power of Omnipotence 
 by our own weakness and infirmity. Herein do we 
 err, not knowing the Scriptures and the power of 
 God : for, that Almighty voice which once sounded 
 into the dark caverns of the grave, and said, '^ Laza- 
 rus, come forth," need only say, the dead man sleep- 
 eth, and awake him from his slumbers. 
 
 They who would thus restrict the power of God, 
 would make him to be altogether such an one, as 
 themselves. And, as well might children say, it 
 is impossible for man to raise a house, because their 
 own strength is unequal to the task, as for men to 
 pronounce it impossible for God to raise the temple 
 of our Saviour's body, because it surpasses the ut- 
 most stretch of their abilities. 
 
 But, to come nearer to the point : Let those who 
 thus dispute the power of God, or rather measure 
 by their own, for once make trial of their strength in 
 the works of a creation^ Let them stretch out new 
 Heavens as a curtain ; let them make the clouds 
 their chariot and ride upon the stormy winds ; let 
 them lay foundations for their earth, and appoint a 
 place in its bosom for the deep ; then let them sum- 
 mon up their magazines of fire and storm, to form 
 the artillery of their skies. Does their strength fail 
 them for this ? And, are not these the works of 
 God, and marvellous in our eyes ? These are not 
 matters of empty speculation ; they are notorious 
 facts which all nature proclaims aloud. The un- 
 wearied sun from day to day, shews that the hand 
 which made him is Divine, and publishes his Ma- 
 
826 THE RESURKECTION. 
 
 kers praise through every land, in a language which 
 every nation, tongue and kindred understand. And, 
 should he see proper again to destroy these works 
 of his creation, might we not say, with equal pro- 
 priety, that that Almighty power which only spake 
 and it was done, which but commanded and it stood 
 fast, was not able to repair their ruins ? And, do not 
 men argue with as little reason, when they daringly 
 set bounds to Omnipotence in the resurrection of the 
 dead, and pronounce it impossible for (rod to effect? 
 
 Once more : All men, (a few excepted who are cal- 
 led Atheists, and w horn it is not my province at pre- 
 sent to consider,) allow themselves to be the work 
 of God. And, is not this, if properly considered, a 
 sutHcient acknowledgment that he has power to 
 raise the dead? For, surely it does not require a 
 greater exertion of power to make a dead body live 
 again, than it required at first to fashion it out of 
 clay, and breathe into it the breath of life. 
 
 Having thus endeavoured to remove this objec- 
 iion of the impossibility of raising the dead, let us 
 now see, if we have not sufficient proofs in Scripture, 
 that God hath actually raised up our Lord. 
 
 The death of our Saviour is the first thing in 
 point of order, which I should have to prove ; but, 
 this men are ever ready enough to allow. But, did 
 they deny it, we could produce a cloud of witnes- 
 ses who were spectators of the horrid scene, when 
 he hung upon the tree; who saw him bow his sa- 
 cred head, when he cried, " It is finished,'' and gave 
 up the ghost. Die, then, he certainly did ; but, he 
 rose again. , He died that we might live, and rose 
 again to bring back the pardon which he purchased 
 
THE RESURRECTION. 327 
 
 with his blood. The ascension of our Lord from 
 the grave, comes now to be a matter of fact ; for, 
 we can produce enough of witnesses who saw him, 
 conversed with him, and handled him after he had 
 risen. God so ordered it in wisdom, that he was 
 put in a new sepulchre in which no man had lain, 
 that we might have the fullest assurance that it was 
 he who was to save Israel, and not another ; and to 
 baffle the cunning and subtlety of his enemies, who 
 otherwise would have contended, that it was some 
 other that was removed out of the sepulchre, and 
 not that despised Nazarene, who three days before 
 expired as a malefactor on the accursed tree. But, 
 there was no other in the tomb : it was the same 
 Jesus who arose, that his followers might be able 
 to give an account of the hope that is in them, and 
 know assuredly in whom they trusted. Now, for 
 the proof of this, let us examine the testimony of 
 Mary Magdalen, and Mary the mother of James 
 and Joses. When Joseph of Arimathea, who was 
 also a disciple of Jesus, had obtained his dead body 
 of Pilate, and brought it to the sepulchre, they were 
 sitting over against it and saw the interment of the 
 Lord of Glory. And, in the end of the Sabbath, 
 towards the first day of the week, Mary Magdalen 
 and the other Mary went to see the tomb, and be- 
 hold, there was a great earthquake ; "for, the Angel 
 of the Lord descended from Heaven, and rolled away 
 the stone from the door of the sepulchre, and sat upon 
 it. And, for fear of him, the keepers did shake and 
 became as dead men. But, the Angel said to the wo- 
 men, fear not ye, fori know that you seek Jesus which 
 was crucified ; but he is not here, for he is risen.'' 
 
328 THE RESURRECTION. 
 
 And, as tliey departed quickly from the sepulchre, 
 with fear and great joy, to tell it to the disciples, be- 
 hold, Jesus met them: And, thatthey might be certain 
 it was not an apparition only, they caught him by the 
 feet, and then they worshipped him. Next, he ap- 
 peared to the eleven disciples on a mountain in Gali- 
 lee, where he had appointed to meet them before he 
 died ; and, there they saw, and there they worship- 
 ped their living Lord. 
 
 The same testimony is also recorded in the Gos- 
 pel according to St. Mark and Luke : but, as 1 have 
 not time to examine them all, I shall only further 
 offer you the testimony that is given by John, which, 
 in some things, is a little more particular. He also 
 informs us of our Saviour's appearing to Mary, as 
 he turned from the sepulchre, and afterwards to 
 the disciples. It seems they did not, as yet, fully 
 understand the Scriptures, about his rising again. 
 They, therefore, knew not how to believe so extra- 
 ordinary an event, upon the testimony of Mary, 
 who first was favoured with the vision of her Lord. 
 Thomas in particular was hard of belief, and said, 
 " Unless I see in his hands the print of the nails, 
 and put my finger into the print of the nails, and 
 thrust my hand into his side, I will not believe.** 
 Here, then, we have abundant scope for the full 
 proof of the reality of his resurrection ; and, he 
 who is satisfied in these particulars, surely cannot 
 doubt. Have we, then, these proofs ? Yes : In 
 eight days afterwards, Thomas and the rest of the 
 disciples were all together. Jesus came and stood 
 in the midst of them, and said, " Peace be unto 
 you," And, to Thomas he said in particular ; 
 
THE RESURRECTION. 329 
 
 •^ Reach hither tby finger and behold my hands, 
 and reach hither thy hand and thrust it into my 
 side, and be no longer faithless, but believing." The 
 incredulous Thomas then was satisfied ; his faith 
 was fully established, and he answered and said, 
 '^^ My Lord and my God." 
 
 Thus, then, the resurrection of Christ appears to 
 be a matter of fact ; and, however wicked men may 
 argue speculatively against it, yet on this rock we 
 may venture to build our hopes, and the very gates 
 of Hell shall not be able to prevail against them. 
 The ascension of our Lord from the grave, is well 
 confirmed by the plainest testimony. 
 
 When we see a man walking before us, when we 
 hear him conversing, and observe him performing 
 the usual offices of life, we must certainly believe 
 the testimony of our senses, and can no more doubX 
 whether he is alive or not, than his enemies could 
 doubt whether he was dead or not, when he had 
 given up the ghost; and, we are at no more loss to 
 determine this point, than whether those we see and 
 converse with every day, are alive. As for us, in- 
 deed, we have not the same kind of testimony ; but 
 we have it confirmed by the same kind of evidence 
 upon which we know and believe most things in the 
 world, which come under our direct knowledge. 
 Thomas had sufficient reason to believe our Lord's 
 resurrection before he saw him ; for, he had it con- 
 firmed to him by the rest of his disciples, as well as 
 by Mary ; and, our Saviour's reply to him on that 
 occasion, is well worthy our most serious considera- 
 tion. " Because thou hast seen me, Thomas," says 
 
 42 
 
330 THE RESURRECTION. 
 
 he, " thou believest ; but, blessed are they who, 
 though they have not seen, yet have believed." 
 
 Now, you will please to lay all these considera- 
 tions toj;ether, and add to them the promises of God, 
 to give us life ; his ability to perform his word, and 
 the confirmation of our hopes by the resurrection of 
 our Lord ; and I see not, what further is necessary 
 to make this an article of our rational belief. 
 
 I proceed, now, to the second thing which I pro- 
 posed, which was to shew you, in consequence of 
 this, that God will raise up us, also, by his own 
 power ; or, in other words, that our hopes of a re- 
 surrection are well supported by the resurrection of 
 our Lord. 
 
 Although the death and sujfferings of Christ were 
 a sufficient atonement for the sins of the world, and 
 his blood of sufficient efficacy to wash away the 
 deepest stains, yet his resurrection was absolutely 
 necessary to establish our faith, by which only, his 
 sufferings and obedience could be imputed to us for 
 righteousness. In the time of our Saviour's abode 
 upon earth, we find it was a dispute whether he was 
 Moses or Elias, or one of the Prophets ; and, his 
 dying a violent death by the hands of men, after a 
 life of the most perfect innocence, and teaching the 
 great duties of religion and morality, was common 
 to him, with others before him, from the days of 
 righteous Abel to the Holy Prophets, who were al- 
 so raised up to be shining lights in the world. Yet, 
 the blood of Abel and the Prophets, speaks not the 
 language of peace and reconciliation, but calls for 
 vengeance on an unrighteous world. Had our Lord, 
 then, died like one of them, and never been heard 
 
THE RESURRECTION. 331 
 
 of any more, we should not have had whereon to 
 build our faith, nor have known that he was the true 
 Messiah, who was to save Israel, and to give re- 
 pentance and remission of sins : But, when, like a 
 glorious conqueror, he rose in triumph from the 
 grave, and declared peace and pardon to the world, 
 then did we know assuredly, in whom we trusted, 
 and that he was of a truth, the Son of God. 
 
 The most incredulous and inveterate of his ene- 
 mies only desired, that he would come down from 
 the cross, and they would believe him. It was 
 necessary for him to die, that we might live. This 
 was the errand that brought him to the earth; and, 
 therefore, he did not come down from the cross. 
 But, he did what is far more a proof of his power ; 
 he rose from the strong hold of the grave. " Thus," 
 as the Apostle expresses it, " he was delivered for 
 our oflfences, and was raised again for our justifica- 
 tion." His resurrection, then, though not the effi- 
 cient cause of our justification before God, is yet ab- 
 solutely necessary to establish our faith, by which 
 only we could be justified in his sight. This is the 
 sure sheet-anchor of the soul, on which our everlast- 
 ing happiness depends : for, if the Lord be not 
 risen, my preaching is vain, and your faith, also, is 
 vain ; we are yet in our sins. Unless he rose to 
 confirm the doctrines which he had preached, we 
 should not have known that he was the Great 
 Teacher ; and unless he returned to bring back the 
 pardon he had purchased by his death, we should 
 have had no confirmation that the great atonement 
 he offered on the Cross, had been accepted of God. 
 
332 X THE RESURRECTION. 
 
 It was glad tidings of great joy that the Angel 
 of the Lord brought to the world, when he proclaim- 
 ed, to the Sliepherds, "Unto you is born this day, 
 in tlie city of Bethlehem, a Saviour, which is Christ 
 the Lord." And old Simeon rejoiced when he saw 
 the babe and clasped his salvation in his arms. 
 But, when he fell a victim to the rage and malice of 
 his enemies, and was put to the most excruciating 
 torments under which he also expired, in that doleful 
 day the hopes of men were blasted ; the disciples 
 were disconsolate, and Mary wept : tlieir hopes all 
 fell with their expiring Lord, and were buried with 
 him in the tomb. All nature mourned when the God 
 of nature suffered. The Sun, unable to endure the 
 moving scene, veiled his face in midnight darkness : 
 the Eartli did quake, and the very rocks were rent, 
 and many bodies of the Saints who had slept in 
 hope, felt the shock and rose from their graves, 
 as if conscious that their everlastiug happiness was 
 then in suspense. O ! my brethren, had he still re- 
 mained a prisoner of the grave, we had now been 
 hopeless : we might now join in the lamentations of 
 Mary, weeping for her Lord, and enquiring where 
 they had laid him. Instead of contemplating the 
 glories of his resurrection, I might this day invite 
 you to the funeral of the Lord of Glory. But, let 
 me raise your thoughts to brighter objects. Halle- 
 lujah ! Your Lord is risen ; he conquered when he 
 fell, and rose again ; and, he rose not only from the 
 grave, but ascended up to God in triumph, and took 
 his seat on the right hand of the Majesty on high. 
 Many were present when he was taken up, and 
 
THE RESURRECTION. 333 
 
 gazed in raptures on their ascending Lord, till a 
 cloud intercepted him from their view. 
 
 And, as our Lord is risen, so shall we, also, rise 
 again. Our blessed Saviour, to whom all power is 
 given, will come again the second time, to raise up 
 all his Saints. *' This is the will," says he, " of 
 him that sent me, that every one who seeth the Son 
 and believeth on him may have everlasting life, and 
 I will raise him up at the last day." And, before 
 he was taken up, he promised, he pledged himself 
 to his disciples, that he would come again and re- 
 ceive them to himself, that " where he was, there 
 they should be also." Supported by this hope, the 
 Apostle Paul was made superior to the fear of death, 
 and was willing to endure affliction for the sake of 
 Christ,' having respect, withal, to the recompense of 
 reward which God, who cannot lie, hath promised. 
 In order to prevent immoderate sorrow for the dead, 
 he says in his epistle to the Thessalonians, "1 
 would not have you ignorant, brethren, concerning 
 them which are asleep ; that ye sorrow not, even 
 as others, which have no hope : for, if you believe 
 that Christ died and rose again, even so, them also 
 which are asleep in Jesus, will God bring with 
 him." Under the prospect of a glorious resurrec- 
 tion, one might even dare to die, looking forward to 
 the second coming of our blessed Saviour, knowing, 
 that when Christ, who is our life, shall come, we, 
 also, shall appear with him in glory: when this 
 corruptible body shall put on incorruption, and this 
 mortal immortality : when, also, shall be fulfilled 
 that saying, " that death is swallowed up of vic- 
 tory." 
 
CHRISTIAN HEROISM. 
 
 -►»«©•«•- 
 
 A SERMON 
 
 OCCASIONED BY THE DEATH 
 
 OF THE 
 
 REV. JO»»r D. BIAIR, 
 
 Delivered by the Rev. JOHN BLAIR HOGE, 
 In the Presbyterian Church, Shockoe-Hill, Jan. 1823. 
 
 '^ For I am now ready to he offered^ and the time 
 of my departure is at hand.'' 
 
 II. Timothy, 4th chap. 6lh verse. 
 
 The venerable Paul was now, the second time, 
 a prisoner at Rome. He had already travelled far 
 in the pilgrimage of life. There was little ground 
 for the hope, that he could escape the unsparing per- 
 secution which, instigated by the bloody Nero, was 
 now raging against the Christian cause. Nor is it 
 unreasonable to conjecture, that he had been Divine- 
 ly admonished, that he should soon exchange a mor- 
 tal, for an immortal life. 
 
 With this event distinctly in his view, he sets down 
 to write an affectionate letter to his beloved son 
 Timothy. Doubtless,' he will now pour out all his 
 
336 CHRISTIAN HEROISM. 
 
 heart. If a mask had heretofore hidden from the 
 world his true character, he will now lay it aside, 
 and disclose his genuine feelings. If the ardour of 
 his mind had impelled him to espouse an unworthy, 
 or a doubtful cause, the damps of his prison will 
 now have chilled his blood and frozen him into pru- 
 dence ; and he will endeavour to arrest his young 
 friend in a course which had proved so disastrous 
 to himself; or, if embarked in a good cause, he had 
 been transported by the extravagance of his zeal, 
 into dangers which it became him to avoid, he will 
 erect his own experience as a beacon for the warn- 
 ing of one whom he tenderly loved. But, instead 
 of this, he animates Timothy, by the prospect of 
 his own departure, to perseverance and to fidelity. 
 " I charge thee, therefore, before God and the Lord 
 .Tesus Christ, who shall judge the quick and the 
 dead at his appearing and his kingdom : Preach the 
 word ; be instant, in season, and out of season ; re- 
 prove, rebuke, exhort with all long suffering and 
 doctrine." " But, watch thou in all things, endure 
 afflictions, do the work of an Evangelist, make full 
 proof of thy ministry." He does not lament his 
 own hard fate, nor execrate the folly by which he 
 had brought it on himself. Nor, does he sit down 
 in the temper of a savage, resolved that his enemies 
 shall see no token of yielding in his fierce and fiery 
 spirit; but, blending together the tenderness and 
 the dignity of the Christian character, he exclaims, 
 " For 1 am now ready to be offered, and the time 
 of ray departure is at hand." 
 
 Ever since his introduction into the world. Death 
 has been the king of terrors. With instinctive ap- 
 
CHRISTIAN HEROISM. 337 
 
 prehension, mortals shrink from his presence and 
 strive to evade his stroke. In their estimation, 
 death is so awful, that, for the most part, they are 
 reluctant to contemplate it, in relation to themselves* 
 When, in the course of that reflection into w^hich 
 even the unthinking are sometimes led, the image 
 of death crosses the path of their minds, they sud- 
 denly strike out some new channel for their thoughts. 
 Death wrenches from us the possessions which we 
 have garnered up on earth ; unlocks our grasp on the 
 hand of friendship and affection ; closes our eyes on 
 the fair scenes of this splendid creation ; shuts up 
 our senses, and removes us forever^ from all the ob- 
 jects with which we have been familiar. A view- 
 less, formless foe, he stands in our path, ready in an 
 unexpected hour to dart upon his victim. Beyond 
 him lies an untried, unexplored region, where is 
 erected the tribunal of a Righteous .Tudge, who will 
 in no wise clear the guilty. And, if there be a 
 Heaven for those whom he approves, there is also 
 a Hell for those whom he condemns. " Their worm 
 dieth not, their fire is not quenched.'' These are 
 some of the considerations which sharpen the sting 
 of death, and deepen the horrors of the grave. — 
 With all this lowering upon him, is it strange that 
 a sinful mortal should shudder at death ? Rather, 
 is it not strange, that any should fail to shudder ? 
 And yet, there are some who seem to meet death 
 without alarm. Ignorant of his own character, and 
 of his relations to God, his Maker, and reckless of 
 the prospect before him, a man may die without fear, 
 because he will not permit himself to think. Per- 
 verted by scepticism or unbelief, he may have toil- 
 
 43 
 
338 CllKlSTIAN HEROISM. 
 
 ed so earnestly to persuade himself that he has no- 
 thing to dread beyond the grave, that God may have 
 given him up to Ids own strong delusion. Accom- 
 plished in the dreadful work of hardening his own 
 heart and searing his own conscience, God may have 
 consigned him, judicially, to that indifference which, 
 he has coveted ; and, he may pass untroubled 
 through his last hour, because no visitation of mer- 
 cy comes to give movement to his fears. He, whose 
 native timidity made him tremble when his eye met 
 the grave, may, by some strong excitement, be lift- 
 ed above his fears. Glowing with patriotic ardour, 
 or panting to have his brows encircled with the 
 chaplet of fame, or driven by some other powerful 
 impulse, the warrior may advance courageously to 
 meet the array of death on the plain of battle. — 
 Apart from all external stimulus, a man may have 
 such tension of nerve, and such daring of character, 
 that the prospect of death will not shake his natural 
 fortitude. All this may be true : and, still to man- 
 kind in general, death may be inexpressibly awful. 
 But, where is the heroism evinced in all this ? Is 
 it a proof of heroism for a mortal to die, trifling with 
 all that is venerable and holy ; unthinking, indiffer- 
 ent and asleep, when the mental eye should turn all 
 its power of vision on the future, and when his own 
 eternal destiny trembles in the scales of an irrever- 
 sible decision? Then, the pilot is a hero, who, 
 warned of the breakers that are in his course, re- 
 mains supine, until the shock is felt which wrecks 
 his vessel. If the sceptic be true to his professions, 
 he cannot be afraid of death, and can exhibit no 
 heroism on its approach. And yet, even he hai 
 
CHRISTIAN HEROISM. 339 
 
 been known to tremble, when a solitary speck arose 
 to obscure the horizon of life. It is no certain proof 
 of courage, or contempt of death, when he is volun- 
 tarily encountered on the field of blood. Thousands 
 who have braved him at the cannon's mouth, have 
 afterwards trembled to meet him in retirement. 
 What, I pray you, is the moral value of that animal 
 courage, which depends on nerves too insensible to 
 be shaken, or on blood too sluggish to be accelerated 
 through its accustomed channel ? But, enough of 
 this. We all must die. The sentence has gone 
 forth, and we cannot he. reprieved from its execu- 
 tion. We are all naturally afraid of death. We 
 want something that can reconcile us to this event, 
 and support us under this shock; something that 
 can solace the aged and cheer the young; something 
 that can add a Heavenly charm to natural fortitude, 
 and transform timidity into calmness and confidence; 
 something that can adapt itself to the peculiar state 
 of each, and tender substantial comfort to every 
 mortal in that fearful hour, when, for the most part, 
 consolation yields to despair. Where shall we 
 seek that moral heroism which can achieve this vic- 
 tory over man's last foe, and adorn with the badge 
 of triumph him, who, though he falls beneath re- 
 sistless power, yet falls with such dignity and gran- 
 deur, that he sinks from the view of mortals in a 
 blaze of Glory ? Where ? In the religion of Je- 
 sus Christ; that religion which lived in the heart, 
 breathed in the thoughts, glowed in the words and 
 shone in the life of the heroic Paul ; and, which 
 enabled him to exclaim, not only with submission, 
 
340 CHRISTIAN HEROISM. 
 
 but with triumph, ^* I am now ready to be oflPered, 
 and the time of my departure is at hand.'' 
 
 This declaration was not the offspring of a sudden 
 impulse, or a late attainment. Thirty years had 
 now elapsed since Paul had surrendered his hostili- 
 ty to the Cross, and had become a Christian and an 
 Apostle. Previous to this time, he had a desire to 
 depart and to be with Christ ; and his whole de- 
 portment evinced, that he was triumphant over the 
 fear of death. We, it is true, are not called to be 
 Apostles, or to encounter the difficulties which op- 
 posed his course : but, we arc required to be Chris- 
 tians ; and, it is our privilege, as it was his, to de- 
 rive from the all-sufficient grace of God, prepara- 
 tion to say, each one for himself, " Yea, though I 
 walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I 
 will fear no evil : for, thou art with me ; thy rod and 
 thy staff, they shall comfort me." Multitudes, 
 ** who, through fear of death, have been all their 
 life-time subject to bondage," have been emancipa- 
 ted from it by that Grace to which Paul ascribed 
 his victory ; the world has faded from their sight ; 
 Heaven has opened to their eyes ; and, out-flying 
 in their desires the rapid wheels of time, they have 
 pressed forward to that verge, from which millions 
 recoil, and joyfully throw themselves into eternity. 
 Charge not this experience with enthusiasm. What 
 can be more reasonable, than that the soul, leavened 
 with the. truth, and cast into the mould of the Gos- 
 pel, should serenely, and even exultingly follow 
 through the grave, the Redeeming Messenger, who 
 beckons it to the skies, where angelic spirits sweep 
 
CHRISTIAN HEROISM. 341 
 
 their harps and sweetly sing, " Sister spirit, come 
 away." 
 
 But, we have not yet done justice to the heroism 
 of Paul. He knew that the time of his departure 
 was at hand. And, he was not ignorant of the steep 
 and rugged path which he was about to scale. The 
 last agony, unsoothed by a single opiate, was to be 
 encountered, not in the bosom of a peaceful home, 
 nor environed by sympathising friends, but on a 
 scaffold, reeking with tlie blood that had flowed in 
 Christian veins. He resigned himself to death, not 
 when it should become inevitable, when nature had 
 worn herself out, or when disease had quenched the 
 fountain of life; but, to a voluntary and a violent 
 death, which he might have averted by proving re- 
 creant from his faith, and forswearing his allegiance 
 to his Heavenly Master. 
 
 From this peaceful era of the Christian Church, 
 when the Gospel of Christ has accomplished an as- 
 tonishing revolution in the sentiments and feelings 
 and practice of men, from sympathy in which, even 
 they are not excluded, who neither entertain its doc- 
 trines, nor obey its precepts, we look back with hor- 
 ror on the past trials of tlie Church ; and with ad- 
 miration on the fidelity of those of her members who 
 " loved not their lives unto death," we read the his- 
 tory of the martyr ; we dwell with indignation on 
 the story of his wrongs. Applauding his unbend- 
 ing integrity, we follow him to the desecrated spot, 
 where the sacrifice of his blood is to be consumma- 
 ted. There, we gaze on his transfigured counte- 
 nance, and mark the fire of confidence that gleams 
 in his eye : we see the Heavens cleaving above him, 
 
342 CHRISTIAN HEROISM. 
 
 and the portals of his celestial mansion unfolding to 
 welcome him : and as he falls beneath the axe, we 
 cover him with that glory, which now, invests the 
 cause in which he bled. What would be the result, 
 if the ban of proscription, were once more published ; 
 if the arm of persecution were once more bared ; if 
 the trial were once more instituted, whether profes- 
 sing Christians, love most, their lives, or their Chris- 
 tian honour, and the Glory of that Saviour, who, 
 for them endured the Cross? Mark those inglorious 
 desertions ! See how the columns of the Christian 
 host are melting away ! Many are found unable to 
 endure this baptism, who had said in the hour of 
 security, Lord, we are ready to go with thee to pri- 
 son, to judgment, and even to thy Cross. But, if it 
 would be difficult to pass this ordeal now, when the 
 sympathies of the Cliurch and the world, have pre- 
 pared for the sufterer, a bed of roses, and a Crown 
 of triumph, what must it have been, when, on the 
 immolation of a solitary and an excoriated victim, 
 the orgies of the rabble were echoed from the impe- 
 rial throne? Yet, under these appalling circumstan- 
 ces the Apostle declared, that he was " ready to be 
 oflfered ;" willing to be poured out, as a libation on 
 the altar of God. " Blessed man, indeed ; who could 
 look upon the j)ouring forth of his blood, as the li- 
 bation of a sacrifice, of thanksgiving, on which he 
 could call for the congratulations of his friends, ra- 
 ther than their condolence ; who could loosen from 
 these mortal shores, and set sail for eternity with a 
 shout," * Here was true heroism ! 
 
 * Doddridse. 
 
CHRISTIAN HEROISM. 343 
 
 Soon after this period, Paul suifered at Rome, the 
 martyrdom which he anticipated. " He counted not 
 his life dear, that he might finish his course with joy? 
 and the ministry Avhich he had. received of the 
 Lord Jesus, to testify the Gospel of the Grace of 
 God.'' This was, doubtless, indisputable proof of 
 his sincerity, which in its turn, demonstrates the di- 
 vinity of the Christian religion. An individual may, 
 indeed, be so wedded to an erroneous creed, that no 
 terrors can divorce him from it : but Paul was a mar- 
 tyr, not only of the opinions, which he avowed, but 
 of the facts which he professed to be a witness, and 
 in relation to which, he could not be mistaken. If, 
 then, Paul was sincere, the facts which he reported, 
 and the doctrines which he published were true ; and 
 if they were true, the religion of Christ is divine; and 
 if the religion of Christ be divine, here is the rock on 
 which we may securely build our confidence for eter- 
 nity, and which the billows of death can never shake. 
 
 But, what is there of mystery in the heroism which 
 Paul exhibited? The Grace of God was adequate 
 to sustain him. He who abases the proud and ele- 
 vates the humble, could easily transform, even a 
 trembling, to a triumphant faith. And to him, when 
 exulting over death and the grave, Paul carried the 
 ascription of praise, "Thanks be unto God, who 
 giveth us the victory, through our Lord Jesus 
 Christ." Still we are able to render a reason of the 
 confidence that was in him. It is reflection on the 
 past, or apprehension for the future, that gives death 
 his utmost power to agitate the bosom of a mortal. 
 But, standing on the margin of both worlds, whether 
 he turned his eye backward or forward, Paul saw 
 
344 CHRISTIAN HEROISM. 
 
 nothins;, but what was calculated to assure, and to 
 animate him. 
 
 In the retrospect of his life, he perceived nothing 
 that could render death terrible. True, he had once 
 been without God in the world ; he had reviled and 
 persecuted Christ and his cause ; he had waged war 
 with the most precious interests of Earth and Hea- 
 ven : but, when convinced of his error, he had re- 
 nounced it ; his sins were washed away iu the blood of 
 expiation ; he had become a new creature ; a Holy 
 influence now pervaded his character and directed 
 his conduct ; he maintained a conscience void of of- 
 fence towards God and towards man : not having yet 
 attained, he was pressing " towards the mark for 
 the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus 
 our Lord." Impeded by no difficulties and dis- 
 mayed by no opposition, he made his career pro- 
 gressive to the end. To his efforts as a Christian,, 
 were added his uuparralelled losts and sufferings 
 as an Apostle : and in reference to both, he had ad- 
 hered to the truth and preserved his fidelity invio- 
 late. This, indeed, was not the ground of his con- 
 fidence. He who had taught that " other foundation 
 can no man lay than that is laid," well knew that 
 Christ was his only foundation : but a re- view of his 
 past life, brought to him the evidence, that he had 
 built on this solid basis, and not on the sand. He 
 had therefore no reason to fear, for he could say, '* I 
 have fought the good fight, I have finished my course: 
 I have kept the faith." 
 
 Guided by the light of Divine Revelation, he could 
 explore the invisible world, and anticipate tlie events, 
 in reserve for him there. He beheld an august tribunal 
 
CHRISTIAN HEROISM. 345 
 
 aud an Omniscient Judge. He saw the smoke of 
 Tophet, ascending up for ever and ever. But he 
 knew, that the Christian character, which had been 
 graciously conferred upon him, would evince his in- 
 terest in the righteousness of the Lord Jesus Christ; 
 he could regard even the Judge as his friend ; and he 
 felt assured that the rectitude of the Divine Govern- 
 ment would forbid his perdition. He knew, there- 
 fore, that when his " Earthly house of this taberna- 
 cle should be dissolved, he had a building of God, 
 an house not made with hands, eternal in the Hea- 
 vens.^' Why should he be afraid of death, who 
 could say, " Henceforth, there is laid up for me a 
 crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the right- 
 eous Judge, will give me in that day.'' 
 
 Thrice happy mortal ! standing on the confines of 
 the grave, the recollection of the past planted no 
 thorns in his conscience ; and the anticipation of the 
 future, cast no dimness over that crown of glory, 
 which he was soon to wear and to wear forever. To 
 this happiness we may all aspire. We may not re- 
 semble him in all the high qualities by which he 
 was distinguished ; but we may be partakers of the 
 joy, which chased away all sadness from his last 
 hour ; and in those rewards of Grace in which he 
 now exults. Let us imitate his example. Choosing 
 that good part which he chose, let us cleave to it as 
 an invaluable possession. Let us run with patience 
 the race set before us. Let us fight the good fight, 
 finish our course, keep the faith, in imitation of his 
 example, and for us there shall be " laid up a crown 
 of righteousness which the Lord, the righteous 
 Judge, will give us in that day ; and, not to us only, 
 
 44 
 
346 CHRISTIAN HEROISM. 
 
 but to all who love his appearing." And when 
 summoned to leave the world, we may accommo- 
 date to our own condition the dignified exclamation, 
 " I am now ready to be offered, and the time of my 
 departure is at hand." 
 
 From the martyrdom of the Apostle, let us now 
 turn to contemplate the death of a minister of the 
 Gospel, who has been recently translated from this 
 Church, we trust, to the General Assembly of the 
 Church of tiie First-born, which are written in Hea- 
 ven. This event should not be permitted to mingle, 
 unheeded, with the croud of incidents that make up 
 the history of our lives. I see many by whom it 
 will not be forgotten. But, the most affectionate 
 remembrance of this bereavement is not enough. A 
 dispensation so signal, of the Providence of God, to- 
 Avards this Church, demands to be pondered : and, 
 all its intentions in regard to us will not be fulfilled, 
 unless we derive improvement from it. This day 
 has been set apart for that interesting purpose ; and 
 you are now admonished to profit by his past min- 
 istry, and his recent death. 
 
 On the present occasion, a tribute is due to de- 
 parted worth, which, I acknowledge my inadequa- 
 cy to render. It is only within the last few years 
 of his life, that I had the advantage of knowing your 
 late pastor. Of that period, the last three months 
 have furnished me the only opportunity of an inti- 
 mate acquaintance witli his cliaracter. During that 
 period, I knew him only on the coucli of affliction, 
 and under the oppressions of disease. Of this sea- 
 son of his life, 1 could speak from personal observa- 
 tion. For his earlier history and character, I should 
 
CHRISTIAN HEROISM. 347 
 
 be indebted to others. Testimony in the highest de- 
 gree respectable, and for aught I know, universal, 
 would warrant me to say, far more in his favour, 
 than is contemplated in the present service. Should 
 I attempt no delineation of his character, your know- 
 ledge on that subject would supply the deficiency. 
 And if I exhibit a diminished and imperfect portrait, 
 you will be able to expand it to its just dimensions, 
 and to apply to it those assimilating touches, which 
 will render it a more perfect likeness of the original. 
 The Rev. John Durburrow Blair, a native of 
 Pennsylvania, was born October, 15, 1759. The 
 family from which he descended, has furnished the 
 Church with several distinguished Ministers, of 
 whom his father was one. He enjoyed the advan- 
 tage of an early education at the College of Nassau 
 Hall, in New- Jersey, then under the presidency of 
 the venerable Dr. Witherspoou. Having gradua- 
 ted, while yet in his minority, he was appointed one 
 of its tutors. President Witherspoon having been 
 requested to recommend some one, to take charge of 
 the Academy of Washington Henry, in Hanover, 
 designated Mr. Blair for that service ; who, accor- 
 dingly came to Virginia, and entered upon the du- 
 ties of the office to which he was appointed. In his 
 youth he had made a profession of religion, and di- 
 rected his views to the ministry, in preference to other 
 pursuits, more (gainful, or more honourable, in the 
 view of the world. These views he prosecuted du- 
 ring his residence in Virginia. About the year 
 1785, he was introduced into the ministry by the 
 Presbytery of Hanover, and inducted to the pastoral 
 charge of the Church of Pole Green; in Hanover, 
 
348 CHRISTIAN HEROISM. 
 
 which at a former period had enjoyed the pastoral 
 services of the Rev. Mr. Davies ; and which was one 
 of the earliest Presbyterian establishments in Virgi- 
 nia. About thirty years ago, Mr. Blair removed to 
 Richmond. Since that time, he continued, until re- 
 cently, to supply the Church in Hanover, and also 
 officiated in the Capitol in this City. In this latter 
 service, he was, for many years, most harmoniously 
 associated with the late Dr. Buchanan. On the 
 completion of this Church, of which Mr. Blair may 
 be regarded as the founder, he devoted to it his 
 whole services, and felt the strongest interest in its 
 prosperity. But Providence did not intend, that he 
 should much longer bear the burden and heat of the 
 day. And his ministry was now hastening to its 
 close. For nearly a year, his health has been de- 
 clining ; and the exhausted lamp of life at last went 
 out. The solemnities of the last Sabbath, are yet 
 before our eyes. We yet seem scarcely to have lost 
 sight of that long and melancholy procession which at- 
 tended his remains to this temple, and from this tem- 
 ple, to the cemetery, where we committed liis body 
 to the ground, ^* earth to earth, dust to dust, ashes to 
 ashes." But he is not dead. He only sleeps. 
 That body shall be reared again, and occupied by 
 the spirit which once dwelt there, shall meet us in 
 eternity. 
 
 I cannot here repeat all that I have been told of 
 his worth, and of the estimation in which he was 
 held. As an amiable and excellent man, he de- 
 served to be esteemed. Correct in principle and 
 uniform in deportment, he pursued through life the 
 even tenor of his way. Covetous neither of gain nor 
 
CHRISTIAN HEROISM. 349 
 
 applause, he was contented and unambitious. Mild 
 and conciliating, benevolent and disinterested, pa- 
 tient and forgiving, liberal and catholic, the sterner 
 passions seemed to have no hold upon his character. 
 In the domestic circle, and in general society, he was 
 well fitted to attract aflfection, and to secure respect. 
 Without ascribing to him a perfection that belongs 
 not to mortals, and without instituting invidious 
 comparisons between him and others, it may be 
 safely aflBrmed, that his character was marked by 
 the predominance of those qualities which consti- 
 tute a high degree of moral excellence. 
 
 In preaching the Gospel, he inculcated the essen- 
 tial doctrines of the Christian system. In this of- 
 fice, he displayed a sound and well cultivated mind. 
 He avoided in his discourses, the extremes of ab- 
 struse discussion and of empty declamation. Their 
 object was to enlighten, to convince, to persuade ; 
 these effects they were calculated to produce. In 
 many instances, especially, as I have been informed, 
 in his most vigorous days, he displayed a highly 
 impressive eloquence. But, his last sermon has 
 been delivered ; and, the results of his ministry shall 
 be developed in eternity. 
 
 One trait of character has not been distinctly no- 
 ticed, which, on the present occasion, it were unpar- 
 donable to omit. It is personal religion. Without 
 this, the most splendid and lovely human qualities 
 perish in the grave : with this, they become immor- 
 tal ; and, transferred to a nobler theatre, they shine 
 and attract forever. 
 
 The work of final judgment belongs not to us. 
 It were far better to examine, solicitously, our own 
 
350 CHRISTIAN HEROISM. 
 
 condition and our future prospects, than to pry into 
 the destiny of others. As we are not bound to infer 
 that every thing which assumes the name, is the reali- 
 ty of religion ; so, we are not authorised to denounce 
 as spurious, whatever fails to accord with our views. 
 It is only when our judgments are enlightened by 
 Scriptural truth, and a knowledge of the facts in a 
 given case, that we are safe from error. 
 
 An undue power to control the events of eternity, 
 is often attributed to a few of the last scenes of life. 
 Yet, these scenes are not w ithout their interest. In 
 some cases, a disguise which had been long worn, 
 is at last withdrawn, or a foundation on which hope 
 had long reposed, is unsettled. In others, a seal of 
 confirmation is affixed to the evidences of preparation 
 for Heaven, which the previous life had furnished. 
 It is, therefore, natural to enquire, and it may be 
 profitable to know, how our friends felt and acted 
 at the close of life. This congregation is, doubtless, 
 solicitous to know how he who was wont to admon- 
 ish them to prepare for their last hour, met his own. 
 Could 1 only tell you that, having long professed to 
 be a Disciple and Minister of the Lord Jesus Christ, 
 and having given evidence of his sincerity, this evi- 
 dence remained unimpaired by the events of his last 
 trial, tliis ought to be sufficient. Even the shrink- 
 ing of nature from this shock, ought not to out- weigh 
 the evidences of a pious life. Far be it from me to 
 depreciate that triumphant grace, which is often af- 
 forded to mortals in their final conflict ; but this, 
 pre-eminently desirable as it is, is not indispensable 
 to salvation. 
 
CHRISTIAN HEROISM. 35i 
 
 On this subject I may, without impropriety, ex- 
 hibit the views which your Pastor has disclosed. 
 Instead of gathering up the fragments of repeated 
 conversations, reference shall be made to one spe- 
 cific occasion ; not for the purpose of finishing off 
 his character, or making an ostentatious display, 
 but in order that his death may be useful, as well 
 as his life. Suffer me, then, for a moment, to rend 
 the veil of domestic privacy, and introduce you as 
 witnesses of a scene, which it was my privilege to 
 witness. An affectionate father, worn down with 
 disease, collects his afflicted children around him ; 
 and, feeting that the time of his departure is at hand, 
 thus addresses them : 
 
 '* I have little to say to you ; much less than I 
 expected, in consequence of my weakness. In the 
 contemplation of death, you are present to my mind. 
 To part with you will be a painful scene. My 
 manner of life, and my doctrine, and the exhorta- 
 tions I have given you, you know. I have nothing 
 new to add to these now. Your reliance for the 
 pardon of your sins, must be on the Lord Jesus 
 Christ. To him, alone, you must look. But, this 
 is not enough. You must be sanctified. You were 
 born in sin, as I was. This must be overcome ; for, 
 nothing unholy can enter the kingdom of Heaven. 
 The grace of God alone is sufficient to sanctify you, 
 to rectify the disorders which sin has introduced, 
 and to implant in your hearts new principles, de- 
 stroying the power and the love of sin. This grace 
 is ever to be sought with humble, fervent, penitent 
 hearts. In addition to this, and in consequence of 
 this, you will find your highest delight in God, and 
 your highest pleasure in his service. 
 
352 CHRISTIAN HEROISM. 
 
 ^^ As for me, I have reason to believe that I was 
 early made a subject of Diviae Grace. 1 have not 
 been without my faults. My aberrations were chiefly 
 in practical religion. When I was young, I was 
 very enthusiastic. 1 had the folly to think, that if 
 they would suffer me to preach, I could convert the 
 world. But, God was pleased to show me my in- 
 sufficiency. When I began to preach, 1 converted, 
 nobody. I could not do it. Yet 1 hope that God 
 lias been pleased to make me an instrument of good 
 to many souls. When I came to maturer years, 
 my religion became rather a calm and settled con- 
 viction and habit, than a matter of feeling and an 
 ebullition of love. And now, after I am gone, when 
 it is asked, if I made any remarkable speech, you 
 may tell them no : but, that I am not without hope 
 and confidence. I depend on liim in whom I have 
 believed. I think 1 have a right to plead his pro- 
 mises of mercy. He has never left me, nor forsaken 
 me ; he has supported rae all along, and I believe 
 will still do so. I know that I must pass through 
 the dark valley of the shadow of death. But, I 
 trust lam prepared for God's will, and that I shall 
 be ready whenever he shall call me hence. Lord 
 Jesus ! into thy hands I commend my spirit.'^ 
 
 After giving some instructions respecting his fu- 
 neral, and advice on other subjects, he added, *' 1 
 should like once more to speak to the congregation, 
 but 1 shall not be able to do tliat." 
 
 In ilropping the curtain around this scene, suffer 
 me to repeat the message from his dying bed, which 
 was announced on the day of his interment. He 
 wished you to recall to recollection the doctrines 
 which he had preached to you, and to be assured, 
 
CHRISTIAN HEROISM. 353 
 
 that be saw no reason to retract them. In this mes- 
 sage, he has sent to you his last testimony of their 
 truth and importance; and his last exhortation that 
 you should cherish them. 
 
 This discourse shall be closed with a few remarks, 
 in relation to his Christian views and Christian 
 character. 
 
 The opinion is extensively current, that a good 
 moral deportment is a sufficient preparation for death. 
 I would not detract from the value of sound moral- 
 ity. But, whatever purposes it may answer here, 
 something more may be necessary for eternity. This 
 was the sentiment of him, whose loss we deplore. 
 He makes no allusion to his personal merit as the 
 ground of his confidence, although he was better 
 entitled to do this, than multitudes, who build on 
 this as their only foundation. Even when he speaks 
 of his own attainments as evidences of his safety, he 
 employs the language of humility and confession. 
 He asserts no claim to perfection. He concedes, 
 that as a Christian, he has not been faultless ; and 
 that he has erred in practical religion. His is the 
 spirit, not of the Pharisee, but of the Publican. 
 Who among us, whatever may be our attainments, 
 could venture into eternity without a similar confes- 
 sion ? " God resisteth the proud, but giveth Grace 
 to the humble."' Accordingly, his dependence^ was 
 not on himself, but on "Divine Grace;'' on the " pro- 
 mises of mercy ;" or the Saviour, into whose hands 
 he commended his departing spirit. This is the 
 only foundation for one who feels himself to be a 
 sinner. And, on this he must establish himself at 
 lust, as he did at first. " All else is yielding sand.f' 
 
 45 
 
354 CHRISTIAN HEROISM. 
 
 Religion, though uniform in principle, is various 
 in its influences. There is one spirit, but a diver- 
 sity of operations. In every instance it regulates 
 the intellectual and moral and active powers of its 
 subject ; but its influence is often more manifest iu 
 one department than another. It may appear to be 
 chiefly the reign of conviction, or affection, or ac- 
 tion. In one case calmness, and in another tri- 
 umph, is its fruit in the last period of human life. 
 Thus, in the case before us, it seemed, according to 
 his own account, less to excite feeling, although it 
 could not fail to do that, than to direct the convic- 
 tions of the judgment, and to influence the habits of 
 the life. In view of death, his deportment was 
 uniform. Habitually patient under an oppressive 
 disease, he at no time exhibited the least symptom 
 of alarm. His evangelic confidence did not forsake 
 him. He even expressed his solicitude that the 
 scene might close, and the world retire from him 
 forever. In a sense, accommodated to his own con- 
 dition, he might have said, " I am ready to be of- 
 fered, and the time of my departure is at hand." 
 As far as mortals can judge, his end was peace. 
 
 Let, then, the aflSicted family that mourn this be- 
 reavement, while they sorrow not as those who have 
 no hope, remember the instructions, the example and 
 the prayers, of their head : let them trust in the God 
 of their father, as they are taught in the Gospel ; and 
 he will be their friend and unfailing portion. 
 
 Let the congregation, whose Pastor has been re- 
 moved from them, enquire how they have profited 
 by his ministry ; and prepare for the account which 
 awaits them in the last day. 
 
CHRISTIAN HEROISM. 355 
 
 Let the Ministers of the Gospel, one of whom has 
 been removed from his watch-tower, remember that 
 their time is short ; that their work is great ; and 
 that it becomes them to do quickly, whatever they 
 meditate for the salvation of their fellow-men, and 
 the Glory of their Lord and Master ! 
 
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